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David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 01

By: Thorilla



It was late autumn of 1960 and I was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had been staying with an old school friend in rural Buckinghamshire and was spending the morning in a beech wood overlooking a dry chalk valley in the Chilterns. 

I was having a fairly successful day until I decided to strike out across farmland further to the east. With my bird diary and binoculars I settled down in a grassy meadow in the intense sunlight surveying the hedgerows for some 'long-tailed tits' which I'd noticed previously. 

Lying on my stomach I focussed on a small group of these tiny birds foraging daintily amongst tall grasses. I was aware of human voices approaching but thought nothing of it. So intent was I on the tits that I didn't notice a pair of legs step over me and stand immediately in front of me blocking my view.

"So it looks as if we've stumbled across a dirty little Peeping-Tom Fiona," the girl in front of me said looking down. I stared up slowly. My eyes focussed on a pair of three-inch heels in patent leather. Above these two long athletic legs encased in fine denier black stockings disappeared under a navy blue knee-length tartan skirt. I also notice petticoat lace peeping out from under the hem.

"Oh no not another bloody private girl's school," I thought thinking back to my dreadful experience at Spathford Grange a few weeks earlier. 

I looked up into the expressionless eyes of a dark haired girl and five others who had surrounded me. I turned over on my back and stared up at them. They all appeared from my low angle to be at least six feet tall. They moved toward me so that I was blocked in by a forest of legs. I looked up their skirts. 

As they moved and swayed above me I was treated to glimpses of white lacy petticoats, suspenders and black stocking tops. Hilary, as the first one was known, put her foot on my chest as if to claim me as captive. The others joined in, and gently, but firmly, smeared their soles and heels over my face. Their shoes smelt of new-mown grass.

"Let's get 'Mr. Pervert' to the headmistress and hear what she has to say," said one of them as they pulled me to my feet.

I noticed as soon as I stood up that they were all actually six-feet tall or taller. Being relatively short and puny I began to feel quite vulnerable imagining I would have to possibly 'service' these young beauties just as I had been forced to do at Spathford Grange Academy. 

I was frog-marched uphill across the meadow which abruptly became a hockey field and, just as suddenly, the main school buildings came into view. It was a vast two storey rambling affair. It was a country manor which had been extended to each side creating a symmetrical structure fronted by a massive timber portico. It appeared like a film set to 'Gone with the Wind'.

Girls in hockey skirts and navy blue knickers stared at me as they ran past. They appeared to be well above average height. There were other girls wandering about wearing their school uniforms which consisted of v-neck grey sweaters over crisp white blouses. They all wore smart flared pleated navy-blue tartan skirts which ended on the knee. They wore black stockings and court shoes and they all had very long legs.

I looked at their skirts imagining I had my head under them, licking their inner thighs and rubbing my nose vigorously over their cotton knickers breathing in their natural female odours. 

Immediately I felt my penis stiffen. My trousers had suddenly become a tent; a veritable 'big top circus tent', I thought. I found it uncomfortable to walk and felt extremely self conscious and embarrassed.

I was led into the main entrance hall where I managed to persuade them to stop so that I could read a notice board.

"Hurry up pervert, we are not going to let you go you know," said Hilary.

The heading to the notice board read 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years.'

"Oh my goodness." I thought reading on.......

'Dentwood School acknowledges the fact that girls who are six-foot tall or over can often experience lack of confidence and self-esteem, and difficulties in making, and retaining, friendships or relationships or fulfilling their full potential. 

It is the aim of the school to reverse these negative assumptions and attitudes and to turn out well-rounded balanced young ladies able to contribute to modern society'

I was beginning to feel as if I was half my normal size standing next to these long-legged athletic firm-thighed 18+ year olds girls. The headmistress' office was along a narrow corridor and faced towards the rear of the school.

The shrill sound of "Enter," came from behind the oak door as Fiona knocked timidly and walked in. I heard snippets of conversation punctuated by "Oh really?", "Binoculars?", "and Tits?" from the headmistress.

I was manhandled into the large room and tried to shake my captors off. I must have created a very bad first impression. My face was daubed with grass and mud. I had a pair of large binoculars round my neck and exhibited an erection between my legs which resembled, in my eyes at least, the size of cricket bat handle. 

From behind her desk Miss Amelia Wiff-Naseford stood up. She was about forty, was elegantly dressed in a white blouse and long grey tweed pleated skirt. She was about six foot two inches tall, slim and wore black one-inch kitten heeled shoes over dark brown stockings. Her greying hair was in a bun. She wore steel framed glasses.

"So err.. Mr. err um?" she enquired.

"Shaw, miss," I replied.

"So Mr. Shaw, you are in a great deal of trouble. Judging by your appearance I would say you are a menace to all respectable young women, What do you say?"

I had no energy to argue my case and I considered that the police may be more lenient as my old school friend could vouch for me. I also had my ornithological reference books back at his cottage. I agreed with her that I was a 'menace to all young women'. 

Miss Wiff-Naseford picked up her telephone and I prepared myself for her call to the local police station. I stood before her looking pathetic as she stared down at my stonking erection which was 'staring' straight back at her. 

"Celia, yes it's A W-N here. See who's in the staffroom and bring them in please, thank you." 

Four members of staff appeared. All of them were very tall women in their thirties or forties. They wore similar clothes. Their extremely long curvaceous legs disappeared under box-pleated or A-line skirts. They all wore dark stockings and court shoes.

"Mr, Shaw, I believe that the school does actually have a policy for dealing with Peeping-Toms. Either you follow these disciplinary rules or else I call the police. What is it to be? "

I chose the former as I did not want further hassle. 

Miss Wiff-Naseford walked up to her antique bookcase and removed a grimy volume of the school rules. She blew the dust off it and opened the contents page. Clearly this old book had not been referred to for many years. 

"P?....Parents Day, Payments, Peeping Tom, ah yes, here it is, apparently last referred to in 1911. Shall I go on? Sit down everybody."

The other members of Miss Wiff-Naseford's staff sat on two sofas opposite me while I sat on an upright chair in front of the headmistress's desk. I noticed that all the tall ladies sat in a similar way with one foot tucked under the other. There was no glimpse of petticoat or any other item of underwear to be seen unfortunately.

Miss A W-N explained that according to the school rules there should be a box labelled 'Peeping Tom' in the 'old store room' and asked Miss Cartwright to collect it. 

It was a largish wooden box, made of mahogany with brass hinges. Inside were four lengths of thick rope attached to eight leather straps. Each strap had an adjustable buckle. There was also a narrow, solid looking pillow which appeared very old and stained.

"According to the guidance notes," she said to me and the others over her spectacles "there should be four small iron tethering rings in this office under the windows and next to the bookcases. These are attached to the floorboards near the skirting board. She looked about the room and eventually found three of them. Miss Muriel Browne found the fourth behind a sofa. 

I was beginning to wonder where on earth this was all leading to and began to think that I should have got the police involved instead.

"We need to attach the straps to the rings like so," and held up a diagram. 

My heart sank as I saw some poor naked soul spread-eagled on his back, legs and arms apart unable to move. 

They hooked up the straps to the rings and pulled them towards the centre of the room where they almost met in front of the headmistress's desk. There appeared only just enough space for someone to lie on their back with space around them for people to walk about. 

Miss A W-N summoned Matron and told her to help me off with my clothes. Matron was a smiling motherly type and asked me my age. I told her that I was twenty and she appeared extraordinarily surprised. 

I stood stark naked in front of the head's desk with my erection carefully hidden behind my hands. Amelia W-N continued reading from the school rules and persuaded the other staff members, Matron and I to move her heavy Victorian desk away from the centre of her study to allow more space for me to be tied down.

I lay on my back as her teachers adjusted my straps so I was tightly constrained in the middle of the office. As they squatted above and around me I noticed between their spreading knees that several teachers wore white or cream lacy French knickers. Matron's bottom was encased in a large pair of shiny white nylon panties which contrasted with her thick black nurses' stockings. My stiffness grew with every glimpse of petticoat and other item of underwear.

Matron slid the narrow pillow under my head and neck which raised them six inches off the floor. I still couldn't work out what the punishment was. 

Amelia W-N whistled in astonishment at another diagram in the book. She showed it to the others and matron could only mutter "Well I never, poor Mr. Shaw, poor lad." 

I was beginning to wonder whether I couldn't just bribe myself out of my predicament. Perhaps an annual gift to the school may be sufficient.

"Would someone explain what I have to do?" I exclaimed in a frightened nervous voice. 

Miss Browne walked over to me and squatted down, displaying her underwear and, held the book open so I could just about see the illustration. 

It showed a Victorian gentleman wearing a moustache, completely naked, strapped to the floor. Above him a schoolgirl in voluminous petticoats and dress was squatting on his face, her linen drawers held in her hand. His tongue was up the girl's vagina and dribbles of vaginal juice were flowing onto his face. Behind the girl were other similar looking girls waiting in line for the same treatment. The headmistress was also shown sitting in a low chair observing the procedure with a list in her hand.

"It appears Mr Shaw that you are obliged to 'orally pleasure' the whole school beginning with me," said Amelia Wiff-Naseford in a stifled and somewhat surprised tone.

She stood up and referred to the diagram and walked purposefully towards me. "I think we'll draw the line at full orgasm as it will take forever with the 120 girls and fifteen staff members," she exclaimed, "perhaps the 'free flowing of vaginal juices' may be an appropriate stage to stop," she said to me wondering whether I understood what she meant.

She reached under her skirt behind her and slid her lacy French knickers off. "I'm feeling quite hot just thinking about it" she smiled and laughed at the other staff members.

"Muriel you'd better take note as I know you've not had male company for many years."

Amelia checked the diagram again and placed one foot to one side of my face and the other to the other side of my face. She looked down at me and winked. 

I stared straight up her long tweed skirt and white slippery lace edged slip as she parted her knees and brought her hairy vagina down to rest on my mouth. Her brown stockings seemed to be the same colour as her pubic hair. "Oh heavenly," she sighed as she realised that the narrow solid pillow was pushing my nose between her outer lips at just the right height and angle. 

I felt afraid that she may damage me if she applied too much weight but in her natural squatting position with her shoes resting firmly on the carpet there was not too much danger of that happening. At least Matron seemed to be at hand anyway. 

Above me her parted legs allowed me to examine the underside of her white slip trimmed with nylon lace, which made a swishing scratching sound as it rubbed against her dark stockings and suspender clips. Her vagina exuded a strong pervasive attractive odour which instantly caused my penis to stiffen up. She rubbed herself rocking backwards and forwards over my upturned face.

"Go and get class 1A, Cordelia, they'll have finished hockey by now. By the time they've organised themselves we will be finished here," spluttered Miss Wiff-Naseford breathlessly to her mathematics teacher.

Her juices flowed freely and my face became slippery. Her labia opened wider as she slid her long legged pubic area backwards and forward. My legs were fettered wide apart and I seriously wanted to masturbate. Here indeed was a punishment I had not thought possible to withstand. Above me and over me a mature woman was slowly and deliberately bringing herself to orgasm and I felt like a mere sexual plaything, a marital aid to enable her to fulfil her sexual climax.

She was well into her stride and her rubbing became more insistent. Her skirts, petticoat and underwear passed backwards and forwards over and above me in a flurry. I closed my eyes as her buttocks spread her moisture into my hair and over my cheeks. 

"Muriel you can...be...next...oh...oh..oh...aaghhh," she shouted as I felt her muscles spasm over my sticky slimy slippery nose. I pulled from side to side trying to breathe but she remained firmly clamped to my face as she allowed every last deep shudder to pass from her.

She stood up and I could hear her knees cracking, while she shook her skirts and underslip down above me. Up went her skirt as she pulled her knickers back on, leaning against her desk to balance herself. I watched her crotch turn transparent as she straightened it over her suspender belt. Down came her underslip which she adjusted so that the rear slit was central. Down came her skirt which she smoothed and swivelled. She tucked her blouse in and smiled at her staff.

"Well." she said, "That was very satisfying, and I may treat myself to a further session later on, now Muriel, knickers off."

(Continued in part two)   

David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 02



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been captured by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being a Peeping Tom in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. 

I had decided not to get the police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the 'traditional' punishment rules of the school. This involved being stripped naked, spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet and fettered to the floor with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in the floorboards. I was then required to orally pleasure the whole school. This is part two of my tale.)

*

Muriel Browne was a timid looking teacher. I gather she taught classics. Amelia W-N had ordered her to lower her knickers and straddle my face. The headmistress sat on a low leather chair behind me so she could witness the punishment take place more clearly.

Anyone squatting on my face with knees apart would present a clear open view of their underwear and my face to her. 

Miss Amelia Wiff-Naseford took it upon herself to decide when to end each session and to keep records of each member of staff or pupil who took part. She read the rules again. The English was a little archaic.

"1, The Peeping Tom shall remain shackled to the floor until every female member of the school and staff is completely sated to climax and are spent emotionally and physically within their genitalia......

2, Climax shall be enforced by fierce rubbing of the exposed outer vaginal labia upon the upturned face of the 'Tom'......

3. The 'Tom' is required to explore the inner labia and clitoral area vigorously with his tongue. Failure to do so will result in all the sessions being repeated from the beginning.....

4.  Each session will last a minimum of three minutes of the clock.....

5.Female staff will include mistresses, and other learned staff but shall also include all chambermaids, ladies maids, parlour maids, cooks, scullery maids and laundry maids. 

Geraldine Maxine Bliss-Frampton, Headmistress 1889."

"Well Muriel what are you waiting for? Get on with it woman" said Amelia in an exasperated, annoyed tone. 

Miss Browne stood above me, legs apart so I could see clearly up her tweed pleated skirt. She reached under and nervously slid her knickers down which landed across my face tightly stretched between her ankles. She tried to extract her shoe from a knicker leg but it was too tight and she struggled above me on one leg, her knee raised. 

The head teacher's eyes on her did not help the awkward situation. 

She muttered, "Sorry," to me for almost treading on my neck and shoulder. Eventually she managed to extricate her feet from her shoes and her knickers from her legs. She spread her legs above me and lowered her bottom firmly onto my face. Above me was her 'petticoat world' of ivory coloured nylon and delicate nylon lace which drooped over me. 

Her thick tweed skirt obscured any light from her beyond her buttocks or to either side. My torso and outstretched arms felt the tweedy roughness of her clothes as she began rubbing herself over my face.

"Well Muriel It's not so bad is it?" 

"No Amelia, it's quite pleasant actually," she said flinching as I exposed her clitoris.

Her vaginal secretions began to flow and glisten above me. Her stocking welts rubbed against my face as she built up her rhythm. My penis throbbed almost painfully as I was denied from relieving myself. With all this tactile, visual and aural stimulation above me and my wrists firmly fettered I could not work out how I was going to last the rest of the day. 

Suddenly Miss Browne's vaginal muscles spasmed and I felt an orgasm grip her from deep inside. My neck and hair were running with fluid as she screamed out unexpected violent expletives and collapsed on top of me her legs spread out leaning back on my torso whimpering.

I looked down and saw the inner parts of her thighs were gleaming wet and had seeped into her dishevelled petticoat. A suspender clip had come loose and a stocking was sagging. 

"Well 'Tom' you certainly know what to do." Said Amelia, clearly enjoying the spectacle before her.

" We've got Class 1A waiting outside and as soon as Muriel's cleaned herself up we'll bring them in. Come on Muriel get those knickers back on," she barked at her Classics mistress.

Celia, the school secretary put her face round the door as Muriel, red faced and shaking, resumed her seat on the sofa.

"1A are here now, shall I show them in?"

"Yes do," the head teacher retorted, fearful of the amount of time required for me to pleasure all her girls. 

"Matron, clean him up a bit can't you," she said as Matron squatted down in front of me and wiped my face with a face flannel she had the foresight to have with her. 

My eyes wandered to her magnificent lace covered crotch. She had a wide gap between her thighs and I secretly looked forward to thrusting my tongue into her later on.

I heard a shuffling and clatter of high heeled shoes as about twenty young eighteen year olds walked in. They appeared to fill the lower end of Amelia Wiff-Nasefords large Victorian office. The girls were whispering to each other nervously and one giggled and was immediately shushed.

"Girls, as you are aware we have caught a Peeping Tom in our grounds this morning and following our '1889 School Rules on Punishment' the school is obliged to administer a somewhat archaic but effective mode of dealing with such perverted intruders...."

She explained what they had to do and arranged for them to line up in alphabetical order. "Which one of you is menstruating at present?" A few girls said that they were. 

"Thank goodness," I thought, "that's a few less to have to 'service'".

"Well if you are menstruating, or are just about to have a period, you may keep your knickers on!" she explained to my horror. I did not want bloodied knickers rubbed over me or squelchy sanitary towels.

"Mary Appleby, step forward please." A tall blonde girl walked purposefully towards me and stood between my open legs staring rather embarrassedly at my erection. 

"Take off your knickers please Mary," her hands disappeared under the back of her navy-blue tartan pleated skirt and removed her white nylon panties. The atmosphere was electric. I struggled against my tethers pulling hard against the leather straps and rope. Mary looked rather fearful. 

"Is it safe Miss Wiff-Naseford? "she asked in a soft sexy Scottish accent staring down at my face. I reassured her that I would not bite, but she still appeared nervous and apprehensive.

"It will be fine Mary now place your feet on either side of the 'Toms' head, bend your knees and squat on his face."

Above me her pleated skirt descended and I entered another 'petticoat cave'. She wore a pink petticoat trimmed with white lace which draped all around me except for the opened leg view towards Miss Wiff-Naseford. Her black seamed stockings slid over my ears and hair.

"Rub yourself over the 'Tom's' nose and mouth as if you were scratching an itch down there," the headmistress told her.

Mary started off slowly and clearly picked up the rhythm instinctively and naturally. I responded to her young thighs and vagina by slurping my tongue blade around her outer lips and penetrating her inner lips with my merciless tonguings and nosings. 

I felt Mary relax above me as we both pushed on towards her climax. Five minutes of persistent fierce stimulation eventually paid off. She tensed up above me her buttocks clenched tight as she spasmed and screamed out lots of little screams in her delightful Scottish accent above me. 

I was in awe of the powerful force she had unleashed and she was clearly surprised at her emotions. Gasping she lifted her heavy body off my face and grinned to her headmistress who winked at her smiling. Matron gave me another view of her large lacy knickers as she wiped down my face.

"Jennifer Bentley, please step forward please,"

A second eighteen year old tall slim girl stood in front of me between my legs. Her hair was cut in a long bob and she had very deep brown eyes.

"You know what to do so knickers off Jennifer if you please"

Miss Wiff-Naseford was in her element. Clearly this was far more interesting than her main hobby of horseracing. She summoned Celia and asked for some tea to be brought in for her, for Matron and the other staff. Muriel Browne appeared to be in need of a stiffer drink I thought.

Jennifer Bentley lifted up her pleats at the back and slid her knickers off. They were very lacy and pale blue in colour. She dropped these on the floor next to my knee. She walked up to me and looked down. 

"No biting please," she said in a Yorkshire accent staring down. 

She looked the height of the ceiling from my low vantage point as she towered above me. Matron made a swift adjustment to my pillow which had slipped slightly. I peered up her pleats to where her pale blue slip was hidden; her black stockings appeared to ascend for ever until gripped by four suspender clips. Her lacy suspenders were pale blue also. 

She placed her three inch heels firmly against my neck as her naked buttocks and vagina descended onto my waiting face. Her body odour was intense, almost overpowering. 

She smelt of sweat and urine. I moved my nose away gasping for fresh air but she took this to be part of my stimulation. She reached down and gripped my head and held it firmly against her writhing pubic hair. 

I tongued her for the benefit of her head teacher who was clearly intent that her girls should receive similar attention. Jennifer came to an orgasm in twenty juddering thrusts which I thought could have damaged my neck. My penis was dripping with precum and was almost stuck to my belly. Mercifully Matron cleaned me up and was treated to another view of her huge thighs and stocking tops.

"Delia Chapman, please step forward."

A third eighteen year old stood between my legs. She was clearly intrigued at my penis which was almost reaching up to shake her hands. This girl was stunning. Her face was angelic with pouting lips and very bright sparkling eyes. Her hair was pulled back behind an Alice band and appeared very long behind her back.

She shook her head in order to keep her hair out of her face; she clearly couldn't take her eyes off my penis and kept glancing down at its exposed purple head and testicles which appeared to have a life of their own. My ginger pubic hair contrasted with my other body hair and I often wondered why.

"Knickers off please Delia." Said the headmistress sitting behind me. 

Delia told Miss Wiff-Naseford that she had started her period and that should she keep them on. 

Miss Wiff-Naseford asked Matron to have a look under her skirt but apart for a bit of staining she should be alright. I was not too pleased at the situation but had little choice.

Delia walked up to my chest and placed one foot next to my ear. She swung her foot over me and placed her other foot next to my other ear. She gripped me with her three inch patent leather heels. 

I stared up her wide flared pleated skirt above me and examined the underside of her white flower-laced petticoat which hung down around her stockinged thighs.

Her stockinged legs appeared like slim black columns supporting a petticoat ceiling. She bent her knees and opened them widely as her knicker clad vagina landed on my mouth. 

I noticed in the half light underneath her tartan uniform that her knickers did have brown bloodstains on them and other stains. I was also aware that she was wearing a sanitary towel attached to a little narrow belt above her suspender belt. 

The towel felt damp and clammy and I wondered whether it was at all possible to tongue her. I felt that Delia should take the initiative. I prodded her with my nose and moved it up and down. She took the hint and having said something to the headmistress continued bucking her buttocks over my face. 

After several minutes I noticed vaginal discharge soak into her knickers and she mewed slightly, but clearly I had not taken her to orgasm.

I felt disappointed for her and heard her headmistress say something about another go without her knickers later on. She stepped off, lifted her shoes, swirled her pleats above me exposing her suspenders and stockings and returned to her classmates near the door.

The tea arrived and Miss Wiff-Naseford dismissed the first three eighteen year olds and they left with Miss. Browne. 

Matron gave me neck massage and scratched various parts of my body which had become uncomfortably itchy. She wiped my face down with a flannel and sprayed me with Eau de Cologne to keep me fresh smelling. A she stood up her huge bottom beckoned me as my penis probed the air desperate for attention.

"Gillian Goulding-Ashby please step forward," said the headmistress sipping her tea. I looked down the room to see another long legged eighteen year old striding towards me.

(Continued in part three)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 03



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been captured by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for apparently being a Peeping Tom in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. 

I had decided not to get the police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the 'traditional' Punishment Rules of the School. This involved being stripped naked, spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet and fettered to the floor with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in the floorboards. I was then required to orally pleasure the whole school. This is part three of my tale)

*

"Gillian Goulding-Ashby please step forward," said the headmistress sipping her tea.

I looked down the room to see another long legged eighteen year old striding towards me.

She looked like a young model. Her blonde hair was in a French Pleat which exaggerated her slim elegant neck. Her skirt twirled and flared about her slim waist as she swayed dangerously close to my exposed testicles and penis. 

Her legs appeared to extend vertically forever and her skirt hem was well above her knees. Presumably the school uniform shop did not sell the correct length for supermodels. To emphasise her grace she twirled around and her pleats flared out to reveal her wide white lacy underslip and jet black stockings. 

"OK. OK that's enough Gillian, you are not in one of your brother's photo-shoots now madam." Said Miss Amelia Wiff-Naseford curtly behind me. 

Gillian pushed her hips forward and struck a pose. So she was clearly an amateur model after all, I thought in awe. She looked rather disdainfully down her nose and mouthed "Pervert" to me silently. 

I was actually afraid of her. Clearly she was spirited and confident and I felt ill at ease. I looked at Matron as she sat on a sofa some distance away.

"Alright Gillian, knickers off please."

The eighteen year old schoolgirl model towered over me as she stared at me in the face. She twirled round and placed her four inch heels next to my ears facing my feet. I looked up at her arse which jutted up above me hovering. 

She wore exquisite white French knickers in delicate nylon with deep stiff lacy hems which almost concealed her exposed thighs above her stockings. 

I frantically wanted to wank myself into oblivion at the sight above me. 

She wiggled her bottom from side to side as her pleats swung out like concertina shapes above me. Her petticoat emphasised and exaggerated the swirling movements of her skirt. She looked down at me over her shoulder and whispered "Pervert" as she swung her French knicker clad buttocks over me again and again.

My penis was almost pumping precum by now and I wondered if my heart might give up as I was so excited sexually. I desperately wanted to come inside her. 

My eyes focussed on her crotch and pubic hair as she swivelled her body above me. She placed her shoes in the usual squatting position so that they now faced my head. She squeezed my ears hard between her heels and pulled in her skirt in and mouthed "Pervert" one more time and smiled like a tiger. 

Slowly, above me, her hands lifted her skirt and petticoat. I saw her knickers slowly being pulled down towards my face. She shook her legs so that they slid down her smooth black stockings and covered my face and nose. She looked down at me. Hands on hips and again whispered "Pervert". 

For some irrational reason the word made my penis rise again and I felt as if I could conduct an entire orchestra with it.

"Come on Miss Goulding-Ashby, get on with it please," pleaded the headmistress clearly realising that things were taking a lot longer than envisaged initially at the outset of my 'punishment' session. 

Gillian kicked off her expensive knickers and settled her bum on my face. She was already damp and rubbed her slimy lips over my nose and tongue. She clearly knew what she was doing and reached her orgasm efficiently and effortlessly. 

I thought that she was clearly in control and probably had had many boy friends who had enjoyed themselves between her legs and I wished I had been one of them. She left the room to join her class.

"Elizabeth Greenberry please step forward."

I looked down the room to see a fifth eighteen year old walking towards me. She was average looking and appeared a bit bored with the situation. I could tell that she probably wished she was back in her classroom or dormitory. She glanced down at my penis but wasn't interested or surprised at what she saw. She stifled a yawn as her head teacher ordered her to remove her knickers.

"Straddle the 'Tom' Elizabeth and try and show some interest," sighed Miss W-N behind me putting down her teacup. 

"More tea anyone?" she enquired.

She put one shoe next to my neck and lifted her other shoe over. Her movements were sloven and slipshod. I didn't care for her at all. She looked very morose and sullen.

She stood above me as I stared up her skirt and petticoat. Her long legs seemed to extend forever but I noticed one of her suspender clips was loose. I wanted to tell her but her bottom came down onto my face and I was swamped under damp pubic hair. Her vagina was almost lost amongst her thick coarse hair. 

Her white nylon petticoat spread across her splayed stockinged legs contrasted with the 'jungle' which lay above me. Her hair appeared to block my nostrils as I sniffed loudly trying to clear them. I probed about with my tongue to find a path to her inner lips. 

After a minute her inner lips opened and her juices began to flow. Elizabeth seemed to settle into my rhythm and we made a dash towards her orgasm. Her vaginal secretions were very powerful and I had problems breathing through her slimy hair. Again I snorted to try and clear an air passage. 

Sweat was pouring off me as her stockinged thighs slid noisily over me over and over again. Eventually I felt her buttocks clench and her muscles tighten around me. Then 'whomp', she orgasmed and, at the same time, broke wind above me. Inside her tartan skirt the stench was overwhelming but she continued to push down on my face further until her final muscular spasm had passed. 

She seemed to take an age to get off me. 

I felt I was fighting for breath as Matron sauntered over with a fresh face flannel and wiped me thoroughly. She massaged my neck as I salivated at the sight of her flabby inner thighs above her stockings. I would have given anything to lick her thigh flesh.

"Natasha Grzesiczek please walk forward," I heard the headmistress yell out at the gaggle of girls at the far end of the room who were beginning to sound restless.

"Matron, it's going to take forever for the girls to punish the 'Tom' at this rate, isn't there anything we can do to speed things up?"

"If it were a question of simply 'pleasuring' the girls but not take them all the way to orgasm we may get through a few more in a shorter timescale."

"Yes that's a good idea Molly. I had originally thought along those lines myself but found watching our juniors orgasm to be so much fun. I do believe seeing a young woman experience her first orgasm is almost a privilege, do you not think Molly?"

She continued, "We could give the girls a choice. If they just want to feel the 'Tom's' tongue up their vaginas or bottoms they could form one line. If they'd like to experience an orgasm they could form another." Matron sighed at the logic but was prepared to go along with it.

Amelia clapped her hands and told the girls that we could move things on a bit faster if we did not allow them all orgasms. There was a general consensus that they could leave orgasms out but wanted to feel their juices flow over the 'Tom', i.e. me.

Natasha Grzesiczek stood above me having removed her knickers. Her concertina pleats moved from side to side as she swayed over me. 

I didn't know whether it was stimulating her to have me beneath her but it was definitely having a stimulating effect on me to have her above me. 

Her skirt and petticoat descended on my face. She pulled her outer layers to one side so that she could see my face between her legs. Her juices flowed and after two minutes she stood up and swung her shoes over my face. She had a great arse.

Emily Hall stood between my legs staring at my penis and she gave it a 'friendly' nudge with her shoe. I tried to twist out of her reach but I was clearly restrained. Down came her knickers which she dropped on my face.

I was furious at her disdainful manner. She giggled as if she was in a little world of her own. Her very long legs gave her the appearance of an awkward doll perched on exaggerated legs. 

"Emily, Please." came from the headmistress. 

Emily placed her feet to each side of my face and squatted down with her hairy cleft pushed firmly onto my mouth. Within thirty seconds her juices began to flow.

"Next," shouted Miss Wiff-Naseford clearly absorbed in a book. I looked round and saw that the other teaching staff were all reading too. I felt in some respects that I no longer was the centre of attention and for some reason felt disappointed. 

Kathryn Harper stood between my legs and reached up her skirt and slid her knickers off. Her knickers were white with deep lace edging. She ignored my penis and stepped over my leg and up to my chest. 

She held her skirt up at the front so I could see her pubic mound, stockings and suspender belt. Her petticoat was a full flouncy lacy affair with several layers. It appeared quite full. My penis twitched at the sight of it and I yearned to be able to masturbate myself into all that nylon and lace. 

I wanted to persuade Kathryn to wank me off but there seemed to be no opportunity. I sighed with real frustration as I thrust my tongue up into the deepest folds of her vagina and wiggled it about furiously. The young girl above me thrilled as I pushed up further. I heard little yelps and sighs of joy. 

Miss Wiff-Naseford appeared engrossed in her novel. 

I pushed Kathryn further and further, her buttocks bouncing up and down on my face which was covered with secretions from between her legs. We were both lost in giving her an orgasm. Her whimpering increased and so did her breathing. Her buttocks clenched and she screamed "Yes..yes..yes...yeeeees" at full volume. 

The staff members looked up with a start and Miss Wiff-Naseford reluctantly lowered her book and stared at the proceedings over her steel rimmed glasses.

"I thought we just agreed no more orgasms from now on," she said looking at me under Kathryn's uniform. She reluctantly got off me as number nine was summoned.

"Maria Kingsland come forward please." 

I looked across the room wide-eyed as a very tall willowy girl strode towards me. She was African, possibly Ethiopian, and her skin was very dark. She had beautiful brown eyes which stood out from her other features. 

Her pleated skirt seemed to flick from side to side as her hips swivelled and slid around provocatively. She walked like a model and stood next to me looking down, her eyes smiling. She reached behind her and slid off her panties. She waved them over my nose. Her smell was intense; it appeared to cut through the air.

"I'm warning you that I can be extremely smelly down here between my legs," she told me in an aristocratic clipped English accent.

"Just get on with it Maria, we've got another eleven to get through today, please"

It dawned on me that my punishment would not end today, nor perhaps even tomorrow and began to feel very very worried.

Maria straddled my face and brought her feet together to constrain my face firmly. She probably realised that I was likely to struggle against her vaginal smell. Above me her legs disappeared under her flared pleated tartan skirt and white lace petticoat. Her suspenders contrasted markedly with her beautiful dark skin. She shook her prominent arse from side to side and I stared up at her glistening exposed fleshy vagina nestling between her pubic hairs. Her bottom looked immense.

"Well I did warn you 'Tom'" she said splaying her legs, bending her knees and placing her hairy vagina firmly on my face. 

I tried to flinch but couldn't. Her vaginal odour appeared three times stronger than any other I had ever experienced. I was sucked into its intensity and was drowning in its headiness.

My penis, for the nineteenth time that day, tried to do hand-stands. I was completely and utterly intoxicated by this eighteen year olds genitalia. Her engorged lips brushed against mine and her clitoris unfolded like exotic fruit.

She was off me before I could pay ultimate homage to her womanhood. I envied her boyfriend if she had one.

Samantha Knowles walked up to me and stared at my genitals. She appeared very ordinary. I noticed that her schoolskirt was quite long and her heels were low kitten heels. She appeared to be rather shy for an eighteen year old. 

" Get on with it Samantha," appeared to be the standard retort from our 'dear' headmistress behind me. I could hear her reading her book clearly disinterested in my valiant attempts to stimulate all her girls.

"Come on, pull those knickers down, we haven't got all day".

I told Samantha that everything was alright and she needn't do it for long if she didn't like it. I told her that I'd just move my tongue around a little bit and she could get off at any stage. 

My wrists and ankles were quite sore as I had been in the same position for one and a half hours. 

Samantha reached under her skirt at the back and slid her white cotton knickers over her rounded buttocks and stepped out of them. She dropped them on my face. I suppose she had seen Maria do something similar with hers. They smelt quite mild and sweet in comparison.

"Come on Samantha, squat over him please." came the encouraging remark from Amelia Wiff-Naseford. 

Samantha placed her feet on each side of my face and I closed my eyes and pushed out my tongue in encouragement. I heard her laugh as she saw me in this ridiculous pose. She bent her knees and parted her legs and once again I was inside a private little petticoat world. 

Her hairy pubic area contrasted with the smooth whiteness of her lacy underskirt and the smooth blackness of her stockings which slid over my cheeks as she rocked to and fro. The froufrou sounds of her clothes sliding over me were sexually exciting.

Samantha was quite gentle but persistent. I began to warm to this girl. She began to open up to me, literally, as I licked her delicious inner lips and concentrated on her clitoris. I established a tempo which I thought she could respond to and we increased it as I pushed her further with my tonguings and nosings. 

Her hairy slit brushed over my face and her secretions pervaded my nostrils. Pubic hair however became trapped in my teeth as I pushed her ever further towards our goal and became aware of something powerful welling up inside her. 

Her nerve endings surrounding her vulva were incredibly sensitive. It appeared she would orgasm at any moment judging by her breathing. It hit me and her unexpectedly as an intense juddering gripped her as she spasmed. 

She screamed and wept above me while my face was drenched in discharge. This went on for several minutes as she slowed down and calmed herself.

She pushed herself off me but then did a strange thing much to Miss Wiff-Naseford's intense surprise and annoyance. 

Samantha knelt down and kissed me full on my lips. I was quite taken aback and wondered what was going to happen next.

( continued in part four)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 04



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been captured by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being a Peeping Tom in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. 

I had decided not to get the police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the 'traditional' Punishment Rules of the School. This involved being stripped naked, spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and fettered to the floor with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in the floorboards. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part four of my tale)

*

Samantha Knowles stood up and smiled down at me. If I wasn't shackled to the floor I may have said something to her. She looked very pretty and I actually enjoyed tonguing her between her long legs. The hem of her pleated skirt twirled out as she left the room and a enjoyed a flash of petticoat hem beneath it. Matron cleaned me up and sprayed me with Cologne again. Matron's knickers, I thought, had a prominent damp patch along her cleft and I wondered whether she was in urgent need to be 'pleasured'.

"Michelle Lesquereux walk forward please," came the familiar voice of Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, who was sitting behind me in her low leather chair. Miss W-N seemed to have woken up. Perhaps it was the effects of strong school tea I thought.

Michelle Lesquereux was 'drop-dead' gorgeous. She had thick dark hair styled into little flicks. She was clearly French as she had a 'Gallic ' mouth which protruded and pouted somewhat as if she were used to saying the word 'oooh'. 

Her English appeared a little rusty and she did not understand what to do. Clearly from her position at the opposite end of the head teachers office she had only been able to see me spread-eagled, naked, face up on the floor. She would have seen her eighteen year old classmates flip up their skirts and remove their knickers and then squat over me. She could not see what I was doing because their flared tartan pleats spread over my chest and stomach would have hidden my face from view.

"What is it I do Madame? Do you want me to peepee?" she said in a husky French accent which instantly stiffened my penis almost to bursting point. 

"No Michelle we do not want 'peepee' as you so delightfully put it, but we do want you to rub your genitalia over the 'Tom's' face," retorted Amelia looking into the girls deep brown eyes. There was a puzzled look in her face. 

"Madame, what is genitalia please?" she said smiling sexily.

"Oh for pity's sake girl. Miss Richardson come over here please, now thank you," said Miss Wiff-Naseford.

A rather startled member of her staff trotted over in her high heels and flesh coloured stockings and beige A-line cotton skirt. She had very long curvaceous legs and she looked about thirty-five. She had black hair cut very short and she wore glasses.

"Will you please show this girl what to do," Her voice was strained with frustration.

"Well you take off your panties, 'culottes' qui? Then you lift up your skirt, 'votre jupe' and petticoat 'jupon' qui. Then you squat 'vous accroupez' on his face 'visage' and rub 'vous frottez' your bottom 'derriere qui?...." The geography teacher said appearing to be confusing the young French girl even further.

"Angela, I told you to 'show' her not to 'tell' her, now get on with it woman," complained her superior. 

Angela Richardson seemed to get into a panic as she reached under her skirt and petticoat and pulled her knickers down over her large rounded arse. Both she and Michelle stood near my head and I was able to see up both their skirts. My penis was rock hard. 

She shuffled nearer and shook her white nylon knickers down to her ankles and kicked them off. I noticed that they were badly stained. Staring at her head teacher and smiling self consciously she showed Michelle what to do by placing her brown two inch heeled shoes to either side of my head. Michelle looked down and nodded smiling.

"We do this to boys in France," she said pensively, "but in the meadows they ask us to peepee on them afterwards."

My mind was turning somersaults as I imagined her French boy friends, their faces covered in warm fresh salty female urine. My penis twitched.

"Continue Angela, if you please," groaned Miss W-N, crossing her legs.

Above me Angela's petticoat framed the view of thick ginger pubic hair. Her suspender belt was white and was firmly attached to the dark brown tops of her flesh coloured nylons. Her petticoat had one deep flounce edged in narrow lace at its hem. She opened her knees and bent her legs allowing her damp pubic hair to be pushed firmly into my nose.

Immediately I set to work with my tongue, opening her outer lips and exploring her inner labia. Her juices began to flow freely as I located her clitoral hood and exposed her little bud for further attention.

I noticed Michelle squatting down next to me taking note of what I was doing. I felt very self conscious and embarrassed having the young French girls eyes, as well as those of the headmistress' on my wriggling tongue which was exploring up inside Miss Richardson's dripping vagina. 

Miss Richardson was rather put off by Michelle's presence I could tell by her nervous coughing which my tongue experienced as her vaginal and buttock muscles clenched around it and above my face. My eyes darted about trying to concentrate. 

Michelle cheekily lifted up Miss Richardson's skirt and nylon underslip in order to obtain a better view. I became aware that the geography teacher was approaching her orgasm so continued with firmer lickings and tonguings. 

My tongue was pushed up as far as possible and I felt little folds and uneven textured areas of flesh inside her as a probed her furiously. My face was running with vaginal lubrication and it began to gather uncomfortably in my eye sockets.

Miss Richardson spasmed and swore loudly, much to the annoyance of the headmistress who realised that I had again taken another woman past the 'point of no return'. Angela's knees creaked as she was helped up by Michelle.

"What does 'Fucking Bloody Hell' mean Miss Richardson," she asked her geography teacher innocently in her husky French accent.

"So Michelle you know what to do now don't you, so get on with it please," said her headteacher in a matter of fact way. She stared at me then looked at her headmistress and began....

"Madame Wiff-Naseby, I was mistaken when I say that French boys do this to me. The boys at home just ask me to sit on their faces in my summer dresses, stockings and stiff net petticoats and they do nothing like this 'Peeping Tom' does. They play with themselves inside their trousers and open their mouths for my peepee but that is all." Mademoiselle Lesquereux explained.

I felt sorry for this young French woman who so clearly was only used by the village boys a masturbatory aid. Whether she derived any personal pleasure in placing her private parts on the upturned faces of wanking boys was anyone's guess.

"Miss Lesquereux if you please, s'il vous plait, merci," said the 'jolly' old headmistress yawning behind me.

Michelle looked down at me as I stared up her flared pleated skirt and at her long legs encased in sheer black stockings. She twirled above me showing off an ivory coloured nylon underskirt beneath her concertina pleats. She smiled down as she lifted the back of her skirt and pulled her white nylon knickers down and stepped out of them.

She placed her three-inch heeled black patent leather court shoes to each side of my face. She lifted up the front of her skirt and petticoat so she could see my upturned face as she descended on me. Once she was comfortably in position squatting over my face she then let go of them and I entered her white petticoat underskirt world. 

Michelle smelt of perfume and I wondered whether she sprayed her underwear to keep it fresh smelling. Perhaps this was something the village boys asked her to do?

She smeared her vaginal lips over my nose as I began tonguing her. Almost instantly her thighs dripped with juices. My nostrils were assaulted by a deliciously strong odour which seemed to complement the musky flowery odours of her perfumed underwear.

I had not realised how odours could combine. I remember Mary McAllister, a friend of my Scottish aunt, once told me that she put a large dab of vaginal secretion on her 'pulse points' as she considered it was sexually attractive to men. I held no opinion until now. 

Michelle bounced about on top of me singing a little French nursery rhyme in her childlike French accent. I understood from this that her perverted boyfriends probably had insisted she sang nursery rhymes to them as they wanked themselves senseless beneath her pretty little dresses. It all sounded very sordid but I was envious just the same.

Within an instant Michelle came, her whole body shuddering and shaking as if hit by an earthquake. She was still shaking and quivering as she collapsed back on top of me, her legs wide apart, her stockings had come loose from her suspenders. 

My penis was bent and squashed by her body weight. I tried to buck this lifeless long-legged girl off me but all my movements caused her to do was to push a high heel shoe into my face. Matron had fallen asleep so there did not appear to be help available. I shouted for aid.

"She's collapsed, wake up Michelle. Wake up." I ranted.

The head teacher looked up from her book and saw that Michelle had passed out. Matron was prodded into life and gingerly stepped over me to pull the girl into a recovery position. This was difficult as I was in the way. 

Matron, Miss Wiff-Naseford and Miss Richardson dragged her body onto her side so she lay over me and across me. Unfortunately she lay with her face in my groin my penis tip touching her mouth. Matron tried to pull her away but she was deadweight and she slumped further into my naked crotch. 

They attempted to remove her clothes to allow her more air. All they succeeding in doing was to unbutton her blouse and loosen her bra.

"Get her some water, quickly," screamed Miss Wiff-Naseford standing with her feet apart astride my head. Needless to say the view up her skirt of petticoat, tight nylon panties and stockings caused my penis to stiffen. One of Michelle's classmates rushed off to the kitchen. 

Miss W-N seemed unaware that her every movement above me was exposing her delightful thighs above her stockings to my lecherous gaze. My penis extended further and I felt it push its way into Michelle's unconscious mouth. Her classmate returned with the water.

"Give that glass to me please," said Matron as she attempted to move Michelle's lips away from my glistening knob-end. Matron told the sleeping girl to try and drink. 

Michelle moved her foot slightly and her shoe came off next to my face. She appeared to be not aware of her surroundings and poked around with her feet trying to find something firm to rest them on. Unfortunately she chose my face. Both her black stocking clad feet with reinforced toes and heels wrapped themselves round my neck.

It must have been a very lewd sight. Here I was lying spread-eagled naked on the head mistress's carpet. 

My wrists and ankles were attached to leather straps which in turn were attached to long ropes which were strapped to iron rings bolted to the floor at four corners of the room. 

Standing near the door were nine six-foot tall eighteen year old girls wearing white cotton blouses over white bras and under grey v-neck sweaters. The rest of their uniform consisted of navy-blue pleated flared tartan skirts ending at the knee. Under their skirts they all wore petticoats, or nylon underslips, black fine-denier seamed stockings supported by suspender belts. They all wore high heeled patent leather court shoes.

Sitting to one side of the room on sofas were two members of staff.

Over me lay an unconscious long legged French girl with no knickers on. Her stocking feet were wrapped round my neck while her motionless face lay in my groin, my penis between her lips. 

Above me a tall slim forty year old headmistress wearing a grey pleated tweed skirt and white blouse stood over my face allowing me a clear view up her skirt of her underslip, knickers and naked thighs above her stockings. 

Matron and Miss Richardson stood above Michelle trying to revive her with water.

"Sip this Michelle, sip this young lady. Michelle, Michelle," pleaded Matron to the girl whose head lay between my parted legs. 

I felt movement as her face turned. Her thick hair stimulating my inner thighs.

"Sip this Michelle come on, you've fainted that's all." Insisted Matron trying to remove my penis from Michelle's lips and introduce water to her mouth.

Above me Miss 'Bossy Boots' Wiff-Naseford gave me further tempting underskirt glimpses of her shapely arse as she stared in a concerned and worried manner at her French pupil. 

My penis again stiffened and slid back into Michelle's mouth. Unbelievably and to my absolute surprise and delight which she began sucking it as if it was a teat.

"Oh my goodness," I thought, "She thinks it's water." 

I heard her moaning in her attractive sexy French accent. Matron was going frantic trying to prize her lips away from my penis. The other girls quickly gathered round intrigued at the stiff fleshy object that had slid into Michelle's pouting French mouth. 

I, of course, reacted enthusiastically to the persistent sucking and could hardly believe my good fortune. My penis appeared to double in size. 

Matron and Miss Wiff-Naseford decided it was time to stop the proceedings and again tried to lift the girl off me. Her deadweight merely caused her to groan. 

Her sucking actually became stronger. Perhaps subconsciously she could not understand that there was no water in her 'bottle'. Her semi-conscious brain was obviously telling her to suck me more vehemently.

She sucked and sucked and sucked and sucked. I felt seminal fluid rising inside me while she kept sucking me more and more.

She kept on sucking and sucking and sucking.

I could withstand no more of this merciless sensual onslaught. The nine girls urged me on as Miss Wiff-Naseford told me to stop.

It was too late; twelve vigorous thrusts emptied my testicles into the young eighteen year olds mouth. She spluttered into life and sat up.

"Thank goodness you are OK," said one of her friends leaning across me in such a way that I could clearly see she had a damp patch between her knicker legs. As other girls twirled their skirts above me I could see that most, if not all, had new damp crotches in their white knickers. Clearly watching Michelle sucking my penis must have caused some sort of erotic reaction. 

I also noticed that the headmistress had a damp patch in her knickers as well.

(continued in part five)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 05



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been captured by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being a Peeping Tom in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. 

I had decided not to get the police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the 'traditional' Punishment Rules of the School. This involved being stripped naked, spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and fettered to the floor with ropes and leather straps to four metal rings set in the floorboards. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part five of my tale)

*

After the comparatively long time it took to pleasure the first eleven girls in form 1A Miss Wiff-Naseford was beginning to regret having started on the punishment session. At least there may be the opportunity to follow the spirit of the law rather than the letter; she thought mulling things over in her mind.

The remaining girls looked rather bored as they watched me and Michelle getting cleaned up. She was disgusted at having her mouth overflowing with my semen and swore at me in French. 

Matron squatted in front of me wiping my face and hair and spraying more Eau-de-Cologne on me attempting to make me more presentable for the remaining nine. She even combed my hair as I lay on the floor unable to move. 

"Now girls," the headmistress said clapping her hands to get their attention. "We are going to streamline the procedures from now on so that we can get class 1B in here and started as soon as possible after lunch." 

"I shall only allow you one minute each with our 'Tom' and I do not expect you to achieve orgasms. Is that understood?"

"Yes Miss Wiff-Naseford," the tall eighteen year olds replied in unison. I sensed they were disappointed.

"The two girls who are having periods will remain until the last, the rest of you will form a line here," she said and demonstrated where the line should begin and end.

"Sarah Lister you stand here," she said to a very slim brunette with hazel eyes wearing small wire rimmed glasses. She stood with her feet astride my waist, facing me. 

"Dianne Miller you stand here," she said to a girl with wide hips and curvaceous legs. She stood behind Sarah. 

"Rebecca Newton, Antonia Nugent-Horton, Alicia Prowett, Elizabeth Slater, and Elysette Thomas please stand here, here here here and here will you please." From my vantage point I could see that they formed some sort of queue which stretched to the door.


"When you reach Sarah's position you will lift up the back of your skirt like so and pull your knickers down smartly in one movement." 

Miss Wiff-Naseford lifted up her long grey pleated skirt and petticoat and exposed the waistband of her generous knickers which she pushed down a short way in order to show how easy it was. You then step out of them, take two steps forward and place your shoes adjacent to the 'Toms' ears and trap his head with the heels of your shoes, like so. 

She stepped up to me and demonstrated. To be perfectly honest she was quite rough and my ears throbbed with pain until she finally let go. Thankfully she stepped off me and soon returned to her low leather arm chair positioned behind me.

"Matron, go and get Lesley's stopwatch and spare whistle please, it'll be somewhere in the gym office, thank you Molly," she said clearly now in complete control. 

Sarah Lister looked down at me in a sneering and disdainful way. Clearly this was all beneath her and she projected an air of superiority towards me as we awaited Matron's return.

"Right Sarah you may begin please," 

I stared up at the girl trying to read her mind as she lifted her pleats up at the back and pulled her knickers down to her knees and stepped out of them. I could see that she would have liked to have dropped her soiled smelly panties on my face and have just walked away.

She however did exactly as her head teacher told her to do and straddled my face with her shoes and brought her hairy young vulva heavily onto my face. She rubbed herself over my tongue and nose and within fifteen seconds her juices began to flow. She relaxed into a slow tempo as I probed her, feeling her warm firm body reacting positively and comfortably. I sensed that she was actually enjoying my attentions. 

The sound of a whistle behind me signalled her to get off.

"Dianne next, start," 

Her curvaceous, almost Rubenesque, physique caught my eye. She was tall and wide and must have weighed quite a lot for an eighteen year old. Her skirt was stretched tightly as she hauled down a large pair of white frilly knickers. She beamed down at me partly through embarrassment but partly because she knew most boys liked her body.

She walked up to my face and planted her four- inch high-heeled shoes firmly to each side of my cheeks. The space under her pleated skirt was immense. Her hips and arse pushed her skirt well away from her legs.

Her legs tapered impressively and were flattered by smooth fine denier black seamed stockings. Her white underskirt was finished in broderie and fine concertina pleats which hung down inside her skirt. 

She opened her massive legs and brought her huge bottom and sumptuous moist hairy vagina onto my mouth. Immediately my penis stiffened and I extended my tongue to its physical limits. 

Her hole was cavernous. I could lose myself inside her vagina. My tongue made feeble attempts to excite her, but as she opened up completely her large clitoris glistened at me as I licked it wildly and longingly hoping she could feel me. She flinched and came to life riding my face slowly but firmly.

The sound of a whistle signalled her to step off me. Dianne looked at me with a sad half-smile and stared at Miss. Wiff-Naseford challengingly as clearly she had been denied her orgasm.

Rebecca Newton was a tall slim blonde with shoulder length hair. Her uniform was immaculate. She slid down her cream coloured lace trimmed knickers and placed her two-inch high heel shoes to each side of my face. Above me her cream petticoat filled out the space between her black stockings and the inside of her skirt. The lacework on her hems were crisp and precise. She was a very well groomed young lady. 

Above me her legs parted and she lowered her vagina onto my mouth. I could hear Miss Wiff-Naseford behind me whistle as she saw what I saw. 

Rebecca's pubic area was completely hairless. I had never seen a shaved one before so with excitement I probed around it and inside it with my tongue and nose. It smelt different too. I flicked my way to her clitoris which was easily accessible and nibbled it gently rolling it about with my tongue. She gasped and relaxed, her tender spot clearly sensitized to my touch.

The whistle sounded and Rebecca stood up, again like Dianne she was disappointed at not achieving her orgasm.

Antonia Nugent-Horton was another tall slender girl with short wavy hair. She had rather prominent teeth which made her appear horsy. Her uniform was old and I imagined it may have been a 'hand me down' from a sister or even her mother. She pulled her knickers down and threw them to one side. She placed her shoes firmly against my cheeks and squatted down on my face.

Her petticoat appeared rather worse for wear and again I imagined it may originally have belonged to someone else. I licked her firmly over and between her outer and inner labia which quickly opened up as I began my probing for her clitoris. 

I was aware that time would quickly run out and felt sorry for these young girls I had tongued and that I couldn't take them to full orgasm. Again the whistle sounded.

Alicia Prowett was an Afro-Caribbean girl with very short black hair. She had mid brown skin and beautiful teeth. Her skirt pleats moved as if they had a life of their own. Her bottom appeared very firm and high. Alicia stepped out of her knickers which were 'split crotch' in design and very lacy. 

She placed her two-inch heeled court shoes on each side of my neck, opened her knees and squatted on my face. Her vagina was fantastic. It resembled a rare fleshy orchid and tasted of nectar. I could have happily spent the rest of the day with my face between Alicia's legs. My joyous tonguings and snortings were cruelly ended by the whistle

Elizabeth Slater was a slightly shorter girl with mousey hair and a large bust. Her uniform was well laundered and she was full of smiles. She waved at me before removing her plain cotton knickers. She stepped up to me and placed her three-inch high-heeled shoes to each side of my ears. 

She blew me a kiss as she spread her legs and bent her knees. Inside her skirt everything was white. Her nylon slip had a simple scalloped hem and her suspenders were plain. I started on her outer lips which opened readily. I felt her become quite vocal as I found her clitoris. She was clearly already worked up and thought it may take a comparatively short time for her to achieve orgasm in my experience. We had just got going with her juices flowing nicely when the whistle blew.

I sensed her anger at Miss Wiff-Naseford particularly as she had witnessed other girls achieve their orgasms almost two hours previously. I was beginning to think that these girls were receiving punishments for something that they had not been responsible for. My heart went out to them.

Elysette Thomas was a pouting dark-haired girl with black flashing eyes. She appeared balletic in build and clearly was strong as well as being graceful. She looked high-spirited and confident. 

Elysette slid her knickers off in one movement stepping out of them theatrically.

She placed one high heel shoe next to my right ear and her other high heel shoe next to my left ear. Above me she flexed her knees, parted her legs, and rubbed her pubic hair over my face. She pushed firmly down so that my nose was inside her vagina. My nostrils were squeezed and I fought for air through my mouth which began filling up with her juices and pubic hair. I almost felt I was drowning or becoming asphyxiated.

I tried to push her off me but she was too heavy. I felt panic and indescribable humiliation at being treated this way. The whistle blew and she got off me almost pulling me up with the suction from her vaginal lips. She sneered down at me as she swung her pleats off me. She gave a triumphant smirk to her classmates swinging her hips in an exaggerated swagger.

I felt that I'd wish to avoid that young lady at all costs.

"You may go back to your form rooms all those who have been pleasured or have punished our uninvited 'Tom', " the headteacher said in a loud voice.

The door was flung open and they dashed out chattering loudly and giggling. The two girls who remained were those who were having periods.

"Emma Dixon at what stage is your period please?"

"Well it's quite heavy Miss," said the girl.

"Ask Matron to have a look at you please."

Matron lifted up her skirt and turned her nose up and said that it was quite heavy but she could remove her knickers and sanitary towel for a short time. Matron walked over to me and placed some paper tissues next to my face.

I was not looking forward to pleasuring Miss Dixon for one instant. The head teacher repeated that I had to pleasure every woman in the school irrespective of their menstrual cycle.

Emma slid off her knickers and sanitary towel. Her knickers did look heavily stained. She placed her feet on either side of my face and squatted down. It was terrible. She rubbed her vagina over me and blood and discharge covered my face.

Matron stopped the proceedings and Miss Wiff-Naseford agreed that we shouldn't go on. Poor Emma felt embarrassed and I did too. 

Matron cleaned us both up and wiped us down with damp flannels. She sprayed me again with Eau-de-Cologne as I shut my eyes avoiding it's sting. She adjusted my pillow which felt damp with vaginal secretions.

Rachel Twydell-Green was left standing at the back of the room.

"What stage is your period at Rachel?" asked Miss Wiff-Naseford, thankful that she was the last girl from class 1A.

"It's my last day Miss,"

"Have a look please Molly," said A W-N behind me.

"She's as clean as a little whistle Amelia." She confirmed smiling at me.

"OK Rachel I'm going out now to see how many more we can squeeze in after lunch. You carry on with the 'Tom'. It's now 1.00 o'clock and we'd better pack up soon and have some lunch. Molly get Mr.Shaw tidied up and cleaned and do something about that old pillow, it's a disgrace."

She ushered the remaining members of staff who had been sitting reading on the sofa and left Rachel, Molly and I alone.

"Well Rachel," I said, "do carry on," and I smiled up at her. She was another gangling tall girl. Her legs appeared too long for her body but she had a terrific arse which created a beautiful outline as seen from the side. 

Her hair was long and tied in two bunches which hid her ears. She spoke in clipped aristocratic tones as she asked me if I was 'ready for her'. I told her that as 'old misery Wiffle Nosebottom' had left we had plenty of time. Molly looked up and nodded.

"Pull those knickers down Miss Twydell-Green." I ordered her in mock authority.

"Oh Sir, I cannot expose myself to a common 'Peeping Tom'." she said with an exaggerated melodramatic voice fluttering her eyelashes at me.

"Actually we all know that you are a stupid bird-spotter and it's only because of Miss Wiff-Naseford's stupid short-sightedness of the true facts that you are trussed up on the floor in the first place,"

"What? So the girls all realise I'm an ornithologist but the staff don't? Is that it Rachel?"

"That about sum's it up,"

I was shocked and looked at Matron. "Amelia sometimes lives in her own little world and can't see the wood for the trees so there you are David," she said looking forlorn.

"My brother's name's David," said Rachel pulling down her white lace trimmed knickers which she dropped on my face. She stepped up to me and placed her four-inch black high heeled shoes on either side of my head. 

She swung her pleats from side to side and stuck her tongue out at me in a very provocative manner. She shimmied over my face allowing her white nylon flounced petticoat to froufrou over her black stockings creating a rustling scratchy sound. My penis began to stiffen. She looked behind her and saw the result of her skirt-flirting. 

My eyes followed her concertina pleated hems and flared flouncy lacy petticoat hems as they moved and twirled out above me. She lowered her knees and stood up, her feet remaining static. She twisted one way then twisted the other while her flared pleats extended and swayed above me. 

The whole experience was like a moving swirling erotic dream. Her movements became more exaggerated as she dropped down to my level then stood up. She did this several times. The air under her skirt seemed to give it life. She twitched her hips from side to side above me and her pleats swayed and swung, her lacy petticoat sexily reflected her hip movements.

She suddenly stopped and removed her knickers from my face. Spreading her knees she squatted on top of me. Immediately my tongue entered her vagina. There was urgency in my tonguings I wanted desperately to take her to orgasm.

I felt that someone had loosened my wrist straps. The ropes had been unravelled at the rings. My hands were free to explore Rachel's body more fully. I inserted several fingers inside her as she squirmed above me. 

My tongue stimulated her clitoris as she made tiny yelping sounds. Her breathing became laboured. I felt cool fingers on my erection and it was not Rachel's. Molly had clearly been the one who had released my wrists from the shackles and was now milking my penis with her experienced hands. Molly seemed to be able to judge both speed and pressure.

Rachel was approaching her orgasm, her breath coming quickly and urgently. I felt her buttock muscles clench then she spasmed violently above me, cursing and swearing. Her orgasm swept over her for several moments and I could feel involuntary twitchings and shivers as it passed over and left her.

Within a couple of seconds I felt my penis fill with seminal fluid then eject long warm strands of slimy semen over my stomach. 

Molly said that she was very pleased she had stayed behind and said we both deserved some pleasure. 

Clearly Molly was correct.   

(Continued in part six)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 06



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being a Peeping Tom in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. 

I had decided not to get the police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the 'traditional' Punishment Rules of the School. This involved being stripped naked, spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and fettered to the floor with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in the floorboards. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part six of my tale.)

*

Following my session with Rachel Twydell-Green, Matron loosened all my straps and helped me to my feet. I looked a sorry sight. After two hours of punishing head and neck movements required to orally pleasure the twenty girls I felt stiff and very fatigued. 

She administered soothing neck massage and manipulated my legs and arms. I carried out some basic trunk-twists, arm stretching exercises, neck-rolls and limber-runs.

"We'll have to get you showered and smelling fresh for 'class 1B' won't we David?" she said as she patted me playfully on my bare arse. 

Matron guided me through the school which was deserted now that it was lunchtime. I felt very vulnerable in my naked state and shielded my penis and testicles with paper tissues. I was led into the staff changing room and was left there to shower while Matron, or Molly as I now called her, fetched some towels and food. 

After a thorough drying from Molly I ate some watercress and celery sandwiches which she managed to obtain from the kitchen. I crunched my way through an apple and relieved myself in the loo. I noticed that there did not appear to be a 'men's toilet'. Molly explained that men were not allowed in any part of the school and they had no male staff at all. Apparently even the grounds maintenance staff and caretakers were all women. 

"What about parents? Are the fathers not allowed in?" I enquired. 

Molly confirmed that they were allowed only in the entrance hall but no further. I was intrigued.

"So I am the only male in the whole School?"

"Yes you are and the first 'Peeping Tom' since 1911. Now you know why Miss Wiff-Naseford is so keen to have you in the school, you're a bit of a novelty to her and she's intrigued at your 'tonguing' talents, and your effects on her eighteen year old girls"

Entering the headmistress's office I was met by 'class 1B' who were gathered around my empty tethers and pillow. Miss Wiff-Naseford was explaining to them what was required from them and from me. 

I couldn't believe my eyes. Here before me were twenty six-foot tall eighteen year olds all dressed for tennis. They were all wearing short little tennis outfits! 

They wore white sleeveless tennis blouses, white pleated tennis skirts, which ended just below mid thigh, white ankle socks and tennis shoes. I had never ever seen such a beautiful collection of healthy-looking athletic girls in my life. 

They all wore their hair tied back in high pony tails. One or two jumped up and down when they saw me and clapped their hands in girlish delight. Perhaps their friends had told them about their orgasms; I could not tell. 

They smiled at me and wished me "Bonjour Monsieur Peeping Tom" and others shouted "Comment allez-vous Monsieur Perverti Chetif?" (which I took to mean 'How are you Mr. Puny Pervert'?) I wondered why they were not speaking English.

Miss Amelia Wiff-Naseford explained to me and Matron that class 1B were all eighteen year old French girls who spoke very little English and that they had all been playing tennis on the courts at the far end of the field and were just about to get showered and changed back into their school uniforms. She apologised to me if they smelt of perspiration. She had managed to collar them for an hour or two.

They stood around me as I squeezed through to my position in the centre of the room. Standing amongst them they towered above me. My face was at the level of some of their busts which clearly were supported by sports bras and I could clearly see firm nipples pushing against the insides of their tennis tops. My penis rose to a horizontal position and bobbed around uncontrollably at the sight before me. 

The French girls crowded in on me anxious to see what a 'pervert' looked like at close quarters. They said sexy things to me and whispered "Pervert Man" at me and "Dirty Sexy Boy" as I felt them deliberately brush their tits against my face and cheeks. They growled like little tigers.

My penis 'accidentally' rubbed against their many pleated skirt hems and bare thighs. My erection disappeared under many of their skirts and touched cool thighs as I was jostled by these tall Mademoiselles trying to touch me and feel me. I felt cool hands on my shoulders, penis and testicles. Someone squeezed my bare buttocks and the insides of my thighs. I slipped my hands between their legs and felt their damp cotton panties and cool firm thighs. 

"Dirty Boy," they growled at me as I touched their damp panty-clad buttocks.

As the girls moved around me their tennis skirts pleats swung out and caressed or rubbed against my exposed genitals. I was in a state of intense sexual excitement and my fully erect penis stuck out at an angle of 45 degrees. Three girls backed into me and pushed me firmly with their pert 'derrieres'. My penis disappeared under their skirts and they swayed their bottoms backwards and forwards so their pleated hems slid along the gap between my erect penis and my stomach. I almost wanted to sing with pleasure but Miss Wiff-Naseford's frantic clapping drove the girls to the back of her room near the door where they formed a line.

In my state of total frenzy I found it difficult to be reshackled to the floor but calmed down sufficiently when Molly helped me with the straps and ropes. Molly had covered the old 1889 pillow with a fresh towel and it smelt fresh and clean. She had put a towel under my shoulders and buttocks to reduce the possibility of pressure sores. She also put sweat bands on my wrists and ankles. She appeared very kind and motherly and I thanked her.

I, on the other, hand, could not believe my luck. Here I was naked, spread-eagled, about to pleasure twenty French eighteen-year old girls all wearing short pleated tennis skirts. They were clearly in a state of wild sexual excitement and smelt deliciously of fresh sweat.

Miss Wiff-Naseford asked the girls whether any of them were having periods. There was a look of puzzlement. 

"Regles? Serviettes hygieniques? Combien s'il vous plait? " There were a few 'ah ouis' and four girls put their hands up.

The headmistress appeared to making progress. From her register she shouted out their names. 

"Veronique Abati, please step forward." She yelled from her low leather armchair which was immediately behind me. I heard her sipping tea.

"Knickers off please Veronique," she said.

The tall slim girl walked slowly up to me staring down. Her lips pouted into a smile as she lifted the back of her short tennis skirt pleats and slid her white cotton panties down.

She pushed them as far as her hem then stopped. 

She turned around and stared at me over her shoulder, pouting. I could see her stained panty gusset just beneath her pleats. She backed up to me and shook her derriere over me, her pleats opening out to reveal her beautiful bare buttocks. They were firm and round. The view was entirely erotic; she was clearly teasing me by not dropping her knickers in one movement. She glanced at my penis then stared at me challengingly with her flashing dark brown eyes.

I could hear 'our dear friend' the headmistress becoming more impatient and indignant at Veronique's strip-tease above me and Veronique speeded up her actions. She lowered her knickers and tossed them onto my face. They were stinking of sweat and stale urine and managed to shake them off me. She placed one tennis shoe on one side of my face and another tennis shoe on the other and lowered her vagina onto my mouth. 

She then moved above me slowly making herself comfortable. Her muscles relaxed as she steadily urinated all over my face.

I opened my mouth in utter surprise and it immediately filled up with warm salty liquid which I was obliged to swallow. More liquid flowed from her which I also swallowed and then she suddenly stopped. A few more dribbles followed and she farted softly several times as her pubic and buttock muscles pumped out the final drops. 

Miss Wiff-Naseford went completely berserk with anger.

"I thought you all understood what you had to do...'No peepee'...please...' peepee very bad'...non," she barked across the room at the nineteen French girls standing in line.

"Molly do something about this please while I get Martine to sort these girls out. I will not have urination in my private study, ever."

Molly pushed Veronique off me and handed back her knickers. Veronique appeared upset as clearly she thought that 'urinating on the perverts face' was part of the punishment. She may have thought that the various towels and paper tissues spread about me, and at hand, reinforced her views. 

She looked down at me and said with a sad smile "Pardonnez-mois Monsieur, my English is not so good and I think I needed to peepee in your bouche, I mean mouth, because you are a disgusting pervert yes?"

I smiled up at her still tasting the strong salty savoury flavours of her urine and said that it didn't matter and enjoyed the taste. Clearly I was fibbing.

Martine Hamilton, the French teacher, explained in minute detail what the girls had to do and Miss Wiff-Naseford appeared satisfied. I was cleaned up and sprayed with Matron's everlasting supply of 'Eau de Cologne' to make me appear fresh and inviting to our French tennis players.

"Sophie Amyot please step forward."

She was a real cutie. Her smile made her face shine and her legs appeared to extend up to the ceiling. Reaching behind her she raised her pleats and pushed her cotton tennis knickers down to her knees. She stepped out of them and walked towards me. She placed both feet on either side of my upturned face, opened her legs and bent her knees so that she squatted with her vagina firmly on my mouth. 

There were a few seconds when I wondered whether she was going to urinate over my face but I think she understood that she just needed me to do 'my thing' so that she could enjoy an orgasm. I swiftly parted her lips and slurped and probed my way to her clitoral hood. Several visible flickings exposed her clitoris and I nibbled and sucked it until it was sensitive and prominent. I lavished all my attention on this spot as Sophie began bouncing around on top of me. 

I was thankful that all the girls had only been squatting on their heels as I could imagine that their full weight could quite easily have damaged my neck. 

Sophie's breathing quickened and I heard little gasps and French words I did not understand. She quickened her pace and held my head firmly against her pubic bone which was beginning to resemble a blur in front of me. 

All of a sudden she held me tighter and spasmed, her vaginal muscles gripping my tongue. "Oui... oui... ahhhhhhh... oui," she screamed as she experienced her orgasm.

It took several minutes before she calmed down. Matron helped her back to her friends and they all hugged her and kissed her. She was all smiles. I was thankful that I did not have another mouthful of female French urine to have to swallow. 

"Paulette Auclair please walk forwards and pull down your knickers," said a somewhat triumphant headmistress behind me.

Paulette was bronze skinned. She was probably from the south of France and her hair was jet black. I noticed a fuzz of dark hair on her face and arms. She looked gorgeous. She did not look at me but stared straight ahead at the headmistress. I could tell that she was in awe of authority and clearly wished to please Miss Wiff-Naseford rather than perhaps me.

She flipped up the rear pleats of her tennis skirt and pushed down her knickers and stepped out of them. She continued looking at the head teacher as she straddled my face. Above me her vagina opening was framed by a thick thatch of black pubic hair. Swiftly she brought her hairy slit onto my lips. I tongued her to a long drawn out orgasm and she stood up, smiled at Miss. Wiff-Naseford, retrieved her panties and walked back. She did not look at me for one instant, not even once.

"Miss Nicole Barbier, if you please."

Nicole walked like a model, her feet overlapping as she strode towards me, pelvis forward. Her hips flicked her white pleated skirt outwards and upwards as she swivelled her delicious derriere. She was simply a sexual animal. My penis stretched painfully to its utmost limit. I heard our headmistress telling her to pull her knickers down and I watched spellbound.

Every movement appeared to fulfil large parts of all my erotic dreams and fantasies. Her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail made her appear as if she were a wild free creature clearly out of place in this drab Victorian school.

She smiled down at me, her mouth slightly open. She stood towering above me as she placed her feet to each side of my face and twirled her pleats from side to side making herself appear more enticing. I stared up at her blonde pubic hair and she smiled down at me again twisting from side to side her pleats flaring out.

She smiled and raised her arms in the air and twirled above me again bending her knees. Her pleats flared out revealing her curvaceous derriere and upper thighs. With her feet firmly on the carpet next to me she gave a further twist and her white pleated skirt flared out yet again.

Behind me came a loud deliberate cough followed by "Get on with it Nicole, for heaven's sake girl, we're not auditioning for a burlesque show now get your rump on his face, quickly now." 

Nicole parted her thighs and bent her legs as she brought her blonde coarse curls firmly onto my mouth. She smelt of sweat and urine. I parted her lips with my tongue and slid it slowly up and down her vagina until it opened out. I pushed upwards and exposed her clitoris which became the sole target of my attentions. Nicole bounced up and down on me humming a little French nursery rhyme. 

I shuddered as I heard her familiar song. Surely Nicole hadn't had to please French boys in a similar manner as Michelle Lesquereux had to, by facesitting them under her summer dresses while they frigged themselves frantically beneath her.

I was hit immediately by the notion that both girls were from the same village. What on earth were these French boys up to luring beautiful tall creatures such as Nicole and Michelle into a field wearing their thin full summer dresses and persuading them to bounce their bare buttocks on their faces whilst singing nursery rhymes?

Clearly things were different on the Continent and I began to wonder what the ornithology would be like over there.

Nicole was approaching her orgasm and her humming became louder and more laboured. I managed a few more minutes of firm probing until she gasped, quivered, hovered on the edge of her orgasm then spasmed above me. Her muscles shook violently and then she collapsed on top of me.

"Oh no," I thought, "not another 'Michelle', not another unconscious French woman squashing my genitals."

I twisted and turned trying to get her off me. I had a tennis shoe in my face and it smelt of grass. Matron came over and checked her pulse. I stared down at her Nicole's wide open legs still glistening with vaginal juices.

Her friends immediately rushed up and helped Matron to turn Nicole onto the 'recovery position'. Sophie and Veronique appeared to know first aid. The other girls stood above and around me. 

From my tethered position I saw seventeen panty clad derrieres moving about above me all neatly framed by little white pleated tennis skirts. There were too many of them for me to focus on and long legs and feet kept disrupting my view. They twirled and swivelled around me and above me and from side to side. 

Most of them had damp patches in the gusset and a few were badly stained in the crotch. I noticed three pair of tennis panties had dark brown stains in the cleft region and I suddenly realised in horror that although Miss Wiff-Naseford had asked how many of the girls were having a period she had not recorded their names or done anything more about it.

My heart sank as I realised that I may end up being smeared with thick menstrual discharge at any stage in the proceedings.

(Continued in part seven)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 07



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being a Peeping Tom in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. 

I had decided not to get the police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the 'traditional' Punishment Rules of the School. This involved being stripped naked, spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and fettered to the floor with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in the floorboards. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part seven of my tale)

*

Nicole Barbier was eventually revived and taken by Matron to the sick room. This had delayed the proceedings by at least fifteen minutes.

"Louise Bazaine s'il vous plait," shouted Miss Wiff-Naseford to the French tennis players across the room. I just prayed that Louise was not one of those experiencing a period. The whole process felt like a game of chance, namely Russian Roulette.

Louise was one of those young French women who had angular features; she had a prominent aquiline nose and high cheek bones which were exaggerated by her hair pulled back into a high pony tail. Her hair was dark and her eyebrows were untrimmed. She moved like a bird and held herself very upright despite being over six feet tall. She appeared proud and aristocratic.

"Please take off your tennis panties, thank you Louise," came the routine order from the headmistress sitting behind me.

Miss Bazaine stood over me and slid her hands up her skirt and inside the waistband of her sports knickers and eased them down. She pushed them down to her ankles so they lay tightly across my face. 

I wondered why so many of these eighteen year olds took pleasure in making me sniff their panty stains. Was this a fetish that girls of a certain age, class or nationality felt they had to do? I could not understand why they derived so much pleasure from it.

She stepped out of them and lowered her hairy vagina onto my mouth. Her coarse pubic curls made me sneeze and I asked her to wipe my nose, which she did with her skirt hem. She was very smelly between her legs but I did not let it put me off from probing her lips. As usual it did not take me long to expose her clitoris which clearly was ultra sensitive. Five minutes of intensive effort with her writhing to and fro above me produced a vociferous orgasm from her. Her French cursing seemed to shock her classmates who perhaps thought her a quiet type.

"Denise Bisson, please walk forward," said Miss W-N. "Please remove your panties and squat on the 'Tom'."

"But what is this 'Tom' Madame Wiff-Naseford?" Mademoiselle Bisson enquired.

"It's it's this bloody bloody 'Peeping Tom' in front of you, you stupid idiotic girl. Who the hell did you think it is for crying out loud? General de Gaulle? Give me strength." Miss Wiff-Naseford was clearly frustrated and exasperated at all her French girls and their lack of Basic English comprehension.

Denise Bisson burst into tears and with a degree of hesitancy she slowly reached up behind her pleated tennis skirt and I watched her pull down her white knickers for me but noticed that they were full of dark brown stains. I felt physically sick at what I saw.

Perhaps Denise was feeling distressed because she was at the heaviest stage of her menstrual cycle. I felt I could say nothing as it would upset her even more. Molly was not at hand to help or step in so I had to withstand whatever she had between her legs and make the best of it.

Her pleats shook above me as her crying intensified. She stared down at me through her tears as she placed her tennis shoes on either side of my face and opened her legs and squatted down on me. Her sobbing was pathetic.

It was not quite as bad as I thought it would be once I had examined her vaginal area in detail. 

There was some blood and discharge but I managed to dilute it with constant salivating where it became smeared over my mouth. I pretended to stimulate her but she clearly was in no mood. Her weeping steadily continued above me. Her thighs were trembling and I nudged her off me with my head as best I could. 

She took the hint and slowly raised herself up. She looked down at me and saw that I had red mucous on my chin. She wiped it off with one of Matron's paper tissues and returned to the back of the room where her crying appeared to grow more intense. Her friends hugged her and consoled her and took her out of the room. I could still hear her sobbing echoing in the corridor. The door opened again and her friends returned.

I heard Miss Wiff-Naseford muttering to herself regarding periods and hoping Matron would return soon to sort the girls out. The game of Russian Roulette continued.

"Angelique Brongniart please walk forward and tell me whether you are having a period?"

"No Madame, she said confidently.

"Good, now take off your knickers." 

A girl with medium dark brown hair swivelled her hips in front of me. She was a pouting blonde with large blue eyes and long lashes which she fluttered at me in a flirtatious way.

She looked at my penis and licked her lips slowly and playfully. Her eyes widened and she put her hand over her mouth as if to be shocked by its size. 

She was obviously a talented young actress and I played along with it by smiling lecherously beneath her and blatantly looking at her between her legs and sticking my tongue out at it, flapping it around. 

I moved my tongue up and down rapidly as if simulating stimulating her labia. She pretended to be shocked and pulled her knees together while pulling her skirt down at the front. She frowned and admonished me with a pointed finger which she waved vigorously and mouthed "Non, non,non," in melodramatic style. 

I lay back and continued moving my tongue around staring at her crotch and into her enormous smiling eyes. She laughed and I did too, both realising we'd put on an impromptu mime show for the headmistress.

"Bravo you two, very good, now Angelique be so good as to pull your knickers down for me, thank you very much," said Miss W-N summoning more tea.

Angelique flipped up her pleated tennis-skirt and allowed me a view of her very slim waist above her waistband. Slowly she slid her knickers off and, 'surprise, surprise', she tossed them on my face. I shook them off me as this eighteen year old beauty straddled my face and lowered her hairy vagina onto my nose. 

She began singing the now well recognisable French nursery rhyme above me as she slid her slimy cleft up and down my nose and tongue. After several minutes of incessant singing she approached her climax and swore loudly several times in French which received an enthusiastic applause from her class mates. 

She lifted herself off me, curtsied to the headmistress, curtsied to her classmates then curtsied to me. She stuck her tongue out, picked up her knickers and strutted back shaking her pert derriere beneath her pleats in triumph.

"Nadia Brun please walk forward please," came the now familiar order from behind me.

"Are you having a period Nadia?"

"No, Miss Wiff-Naseford."

"Good, now please will you lower your knickers."

Nadia looked quite ordinary but legs were exceptionally long and shapely. She flicked her pony tail from side to side as she reached up under the back of her skirt and pulled her panties down to her calves. She stepped out of them and shook them in my face before dropping them on my nose. 

I was becoming rather tired with being treated as a 'soiled laundry-basket'. What was it about these French girls and their knickers? 

Nadia fortunately was delicious and delectable between her legs. Her labia opened beautifully and I enjoyed tonguing her. Her vaginal juices were fresh and musky to my nostrils and she climaxed easily, persistently and steadily. 

Her swearing was particularly imaginative and she accused me of being a 'Fucking shit faced fucking fucking pervert,' which I really appreciated hearing in her sexy French girlish accent. 

"Martine Cloutier please step forward." Another tall black haired beauty stood in front of me. I stared up her short pleated tennis skirt which ended at mid-thigh. Her pleats were neatly laundered and twirled out to one side as she stood with most of her weight over her left foot.

"Before I go on Miss Wiff-Naseford I have to inform you that it is against my religion to expose myself to this, this Peeping Tom, and I refuse to take off my knickers."

"And what religion is that girl?"

"I do not have to tell you," she replied haughtily. 

Martine turned to her classmates and repeated what she had said to Miss Wiff-Naseford, this time in French.

"Je ne veux pas exposer mon cul a ce Tom Jetant un coup d'oeil; il est contre ma religion; Je refuse d'enlever ma culotte." The other girls greeted her remark with agreement and cheering.

"Give me strength 'Tom'." whispered Amelia Wiff-Naseford to me," and to think I thought that we'd get through this lot quickly."

Amelia clapped her hands and asked how many girls refused to take off their panties because of their religion. They all put up their hands. She then asked who refused to sit on the face of the 'Peeping Tom' and none of them put up their hands. 

She then asked a further question to make sure everyone understood. "Who wants to sit on the Peeping Tom's face while wearing their knickers, panties, culottes or whatever you wish to call your underskirt underwear?" All the hands shot up followed by exciting giggling, jumping up and down and smiling glances towards me and my erect penis.

"OK Miss Cloutier straddle the 'Tom' please."

At last we seemed to have stemmed the little 'French Revolution' I thought.

Martine Cloutier appeared a feisty high-spirited young woman, a 'natural leader in the making' I thought. She towered over me in her short pleated tennis skirt and placed her tennis shoes firmly to each side of my face. Bending her knees and opening her thighs she placed her knicker crotch firmly on my nose. 

It smelt intensely of stale sweat and urine. In some respects it smelt worse than an open hairy vagina. At least a vagina is bathed in fresh juices whereas Martine's knickers smelt as if she had been wearing them for several tennis sessions. 

I could hear her laugh at me as I tried to breathe in fresh air. She was clearly pleased she had me under her control and under her vagina. As she lifted her buttock cheeks off me she said. "Je veux chier dans votre bouche stupide," which I understood to mean that she would quite like to empty her bowels into my rather handsome but stupid mouth. What a pleasant girl. 

Yvette Duchesne, Danielle Lalonde and Isabelle Lamarliere all treated me in the same way. All had horrendously stinking sweaty urine stained knickers. They wiped their damp crotches all over my face and chin. None of them appeared to want me to take them to orgasm and they merely wanted to assault me with their odours. Evidently this appeared to be a 'French thing', possibly payback time for being treated as mere masturbatory objects by village boys in the past, I thought.

Eloise Larocque was a tall elegant young woman. Her tennis skirt had a wide overlapping slit at the side which exposed her white sports knickers as she swayed towards me. Her hair was very curly which created an interesting looking bouffant pony tail. She appeared less aggressive than the previous four. She smiled at my penis, Miss Wiff-Naseford and me.

Gracefully she placed her pristine tennis shoes on either side of my ears and lowered her crotch onto my mouth. To my surprise and delight there was only one small yellowish stain on her gusset. Clearly this woman looked after herself. She wiped her knickers slowly over my nose and mouth then unexpectedly her gusset filled with vaginal juices. Literally her knickers became immediately soaked like a thin sponge. Eloise was one of those young women who becomes quickly aroused. She became rather embarrassed at her 'gushing' and felt about around me for the paper tissues that Matron had left for such emergencies. 

"Mes jus vaginaux sont tres lourds oui?" which I took to mean that she already knew she was a 'gusher'. My face was covered in her slimy lubrication and I hoped Matron would return quickly. 

To my utter amazement, at that very same moment, Matron suddenly returned with Nicole Barbier who was now fully recovered. It was like 'the cavalry to the rescue'. Molly rushed over to me as she could see I was having problems with Eloise's juices. She told Eloise to stand up and put a towel between her legs while she wiped my face down with a flannel.

"Thank goodness you have returned Matron. Our 'Tom' appeared to be drowning in the French girl's emissions." said the apparently 'helpless' Amelia behind me.

"We'll have to get him showered soon. He really smells quite badly," Matron complained trying not to breathe too deeply near me.

"Well that's fine Molly we'd better get through the rest fairly pronto, according to the register there should be another seven to go. Jacqueline Lemieux please step forward." Said the headmistress behind me. 

"Ask Celia for more tea Matron, if you will. Thanks awfully."

After Jacqueline Lemieux had stepped off me her damp urine and sweat stained sports knickers were replaced by Isabelle Lenoir's. She wiped her panty clad buttocks all over my face. Her urine had a garlic smell to it, quite extraordinary I thought. 

Marianne Martineau stood above me with her legs apart. Her pleated tennis skirt hung down from her very wide hips. Her bottom appeared generously proportioned as she swung her body from side to side above me. 

"Another young actress," I said to myself as I watched her swaying performance above me. 

My penis stiffened and again my punishment appeared very harsh as I could not freely masturbate to relieve my condition. Whoever Miss Bliss-Frampton was, this head teacher of 1889 who thought up this charade, she was certainly a sadist and clearly knew that this form of torture was going to work. I imagined her trying it out on some poor farmhand, messenger boy or visiting pedlar. 

After Marianne Martineau, Lysette Pelletier wiped her period soiled knickers over my face. It was quite repulsive and was pleased when she pushed herself off me.

Madeleine Saint-Pierre's knickers were tolerable. The sweatiness was not as intense as some and my nostrils withstood the olfactory assault. Finally Charlotte Sanci-Savard spread her damp knickers over my face and rubbed herself enthusiastically over me whispering "Dirty Pervert" at me and forced herself to fart long and loudly into my face.

The air under her short tennis skirt was fettid and ghastly. Eventually Miss Wiff-Naseford couldn't stand the smell either and ordered her off me.

"Matron we need to get the Peeping Tom and class 1B showered quickly, get Lesley to sort it out for me." Said Miss Wiff-Naseford opening some windows to let in welcome fresh air.

Matron and two of the girls unstrapped me at my wrists and ankles and led me out into the corridor. Lesley Hopkins, the games mistress looked me up and down and told me that I had better share the showers with the French girls as it would be quicker and easier than arranging separate showers. 

My face was stinking of vagina and urine; my hair was lank and greasy, and my limbs ached. I followed the tall long legged tennis players to the girls shower room and sat on a bench and watched them undress. I felt shattered. 

They giggled at me and stuck out the derrieres and shook them in my face. Around me tennis tops were being pulled off and bras loosened. The tiled changing room echoed loudly with sexy French conversations and laughter. 

As I looked up my eyes feasted on twenty pairs of tits, some in sports bras, some naked. They were wobbling above me and to each side of me. One girl leant forward and exposed her bouncing tits in front of my face and sneered "Dirty Man". 

Others loosened their pony tails and shook both their hair and breasts in my direction.

Some girls waited until I caught their eye before removing their bra for me smiling lasciviously and lewdly. I had never seen so much naked female flesh in my life. I felt that my penis was the length and thickness of a broom handle although obviously it wasn't, but it did feel that way. 

Paulette Auclair sat on my lap and rubbed her tanned tits firmly over my nose and mouth, her tennis skirt pleats stimulating my erection. 

Martine Cloutier, the leader of the 'revolution', straddled my erection as she rubbed her knickers over it and kissed me teasingly on my lips. She probed my mouth and told me I was a 'pervert' and French-kissed me again and again until Veronique Abati dragged her off and kissed me viciously, her tongue half way down my throat. 

Several other girls pushed there way in and French tongued me, purring loudly. 

Denise Bisson caressed my penis vigorously as she sat next to me while Danielle Lalonde seriously squeezed my testicles while flicking her tongue around the inside of my mouth and lips. 

All around me knickers and sports panties were being pulled down and white pleated tennis skirts unzipped and hung up on hooks behind the bench. Their school uniforms hung up in a separate changing area adjacent to the shower. 

Across the room was a large communal shower which had ten stainless steel shower nozzles, five to each side, controlled by two control levers on the wall outside the shower. The shower area had white tiled walls and a white tiled floor with three stainless steel drainage grilles set flush with the floor. There was a tiled threshold sill designed to retain water inside the shower and stop it spilling into the changing area.

Miss Wiff-Naseford clapped her hands as shearrived in the changing room. Her eyes feasted on her French girl's state of undress and at me with my 'broomhandle' erection. The girls were now all naked except for their tennis shoes and socks which they had kept on for some reason.

"Now Mr. Peeping Tom before we get you and the girls showered there is something I have decided they shall do to you," said the headmistress, her loud sonorous voice echoing around the enclosed tiled space. She smiled like a demented jackal. 

My mind raced as I wondered what she had in mind for me. Clearly there was nothing mentioned in the 1889 School Rules about 'showers' so I guessed that she was thinking on her feet and making things up as she went along. 

The French girls were clearly restless and anxious to get showered. It had been an hour or so since they had finished their tennis and goodness knows how long since they had relieved themselves in the toilets.

It dawned on me what the next stage of the punishment might be and I was just hoping thet it did not involve 'peepee'.

Martine Hamilton, the French teacher appeared at Miss Wiff-Naseford's side. My heart dropped when I thought what was going to happen next.

"Mr. 'Tom" she said smiling at me in a predatory way, "Please get into the shower and lie in your back on the floor." I thought that if I refused the police would become involved so reluctantly I did what she asked me to do.

"In the middle if you please, thank you." She ordered me in her controlling voice.

She said something to Miss Hamilton who looked astonished and shook her head looking at the naked girls and looking at me. The atmosphere was electric. I felt my heart beat faster. the white tiled shower floor felt incredibly cold and slippery. I was feeling very vulnerable and apprehensive. 

"Mr 'Tom' you will open your mouth and keep it open is that understood?" I blurted out "Yes," in a high pitched screech which made the girls giggle sexily. 




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 07



I looked across at the twenty naked eighteen year olds. Their hair was now loose covering their ears and backs of their necks and they appeared very different from the athletic looking tennis players with their hair tied back in high pony tails. 

There was something wild, almost primitive at the way they stared at me. Some were fingering their pubic clefts as if by instinct. The scene was entirely sexual and appeared like some bizarre plot in an erotic novel.

The girls were clearly waiting for some form of instruction. I could not quite understand why they had not taken off their tennis shoes. My mouth was beginning to ache in it's open position under the shower nozzles above me.

"Les filles vous tous ferez a tour de role pour vous accroupir sur le visage de 'Tom' urinent alors dans sa bouche. Est cela a compris?" said Martine Hamilton. I made out the word 'urinate' and I felt very fearful. 

Miss Wiff-Naseford reinforced the French teachers instruction by shouting, "Peepee, good, now please peepee on 'Tom', lots of peepee, lots of peepee in 'Toms' mouth, " in a strange deranged manner.

Veronique Abati straddled my face then lowered herself over my mouth and again I tasted her strong savoury salty urine. My mouth over flowed as it dribbled down my chin onto the tiles around me. Eventually I was forced to swallow. 

Sophie Amyot placed her tennis shoes on each side of my face sliding slightly in the urine. Above me a stream of yellowish liquid was directed into my mouth as I heard Miss Wiff-Naseford say something in a loud voice to the remaining girls.

Two girls now stood above me. Paulette Auclair directed a long stream of urine into my mouth while Nicole Barbier, who had clearly completely recovered from her fainting fit, directed a warm trickle of urine over my penis which was already becoming hard again.

Louise Bazaine, Denise Bisson, Angelique Brongniart and Nadia Brun took turns to pee in my mouth and shower my genitals with urine. 

Martine Cloutier insisted on squatting down and pissing straight into my mouth. Clearly her religious principles had been shelved temporarily as she squatted firmly above me smiling like a cat. 

Yvette Duchesne was very vocal in her relieving; she was clearly desperate and her excretions came out thick and fast. Her final muscular exertions were accompanied with several loud deep farts which made her classmates applaud and laugh aloud.

Danielle Lalonde's urine tasted very strong and fishy, so too did Isabelle Lamarliere's.

Eloise Larocqe and Jacqueline Lemieux both tried to piss in my mouth in unison but ended up urinating on themselves which I found vaguely amusing. I was really stinking like dead fish. The warm saltiness had got into my eyes and nostrils and I really couldn't take much more.

I looked towards Miss Wiff-Naseford who was chatting to Miss Hamilton. Clearly she was unconcerned with my condition. 

The floor of the shower was partly awash with urine and very slippery. My back was cold as the urine cooled around me. 

Isabelle Lenoir walked into the shower room over the threshold and straddled herself above me. A pale stream of warm salty urine filled my mouth. Once again it tasted of garlic and wondered why her urine was so different. Reluctantly I swallowed it but immediately regretted it. My now I was feeling physically sick. There were another four girls to go. 

All four walked into the shower and took turns pissing on me.

Marianne Martineau's urine was a steady stream directed at my face. 

Lysette Pelletier's urine came out in strong spurts while Madeleine Saint-Pierre's was pathetic little dribble. I managed to drink Madeleine's urine as it did not flood my mouth as others had done. 

Finally Charlotte Sanci-Savard filled my mouth four times with a very strong acrid smelling liquid. Evidently she had recently eaten some asparagus.

I lay on my back almost stuck to the floor by female urine wondering what on earth was going to happen to me next.

(Continued in Part Eight)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 08



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my absorbing hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it. 

I had decided not to get the police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to Peeping Toms. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and fettered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part eight of my tale)

*

Lying on my back on the cold tiled shower floor staring at the nozzles above me and smelling quite heavily of urine, I clearly must have made a pathetic forlorn sight. Someone near me, probably Miss Hopkins, the games mistress, turned the shower control lever on and I was immediately blasted by freezing cold water from all ten shower heads.

"Aghhh, ooh, bloody, farting bloody farting farty fart farts," I blurted out above the noise. 

Girlish giggling greeted my outburst from beyond the 'rain storm' as I stared across to the changing room where the twenty naked foreign eighteen-year olds were removing their tennis shoes and socks. The temperature of the water gradually increased until it was comfortable and tolerable. The urine on me and around me was rinsed away in the steamy dripping atmosphere of the communal shower.

I heard Miss Hamilton, the French teacher, order the girls into the shower. Above the loud persistent noise of water I heard her yell,"Les filles, entrez dans la douche, vite maintenant."

Around me twenty pairs of sturdy shapely female legs gradually appeared in the hot mist. Excited girlish screams, giggling and loud echoing conversations surrounded me as I stared upward at all the many firm, rounded, pear-shaped buttocks swinging, strutting and swivelling above me. Needless to say my stiffening penis became rock hard once again.

My mind had never ever imagined being in this situation before. 

Here I was, flat on my back, partly immersed in soapy water, in a large hot shower with twenty naked eighteen year old French girls standing above me, stepping over me while washing and wiping their wet tits, dripping vaginas and dribbling derrieres.

Everywhere I looked were buttocks, anuses, pubic hair and vaginas; this was truly heaven. I became aware that I was causing an obstruction because feet began tripping against me, kicking me or treading on my face and genitals.

I hauled myself up noticing that there were two girls to each shower nozzle and that they were taking turns to soap each other up then rinse one another down with sponges and face flannels. Lined up against the wall were small plastic bottles of shampoo and liquid soap. The shower smelled strongly of perfumed soap and lemon shampoo.

I stood self-consciously in the middle of a group of glistening slippery bodies and asked Yvette Duchesne if I could please borrow her soap. She replied by grabbing my head in both hands and French kissing me firmly, her tongue manipulating mine expertly and forcefully. She continued this way for several minutes and I could hardly breathe as her long brown wet hair fell over our faces and across my nostrils. She pushed me off frenetically as I gasped wildly for air.

She told me that she would prefer to wash me herself. I couldn't hear her above the noise of water and loud girlish conversations. She repeated her offer of 'washing me herself' this time in French.

"Je veux vous laver, oui?" she screamed as the shower conversations suddenly died away.

All around us gleaming well scrubbed faces turned to watch her wash me.

My face was roughly at the same height as many of these tall girls' breasts and as they crowded around me I was continuously poked and prodded by erect nipples in my eyes, mouth, ears, nose and hair. All within groping and fondling distance were warm wet wobbling shining tits. 

I looked up into the French girls' glistening perfumed smiling faces, their hair soaking and dripping under the constant spray. They gave me a predatory, almost primeval, look in return.

Angelique Brongniart stuck her dripping tongue firmly into my wet ear and gave it a vigorous probing wash. Marianne Martineau did something similar with my other ear, this time taking it completely into her mouth, sucking it. 

I shivered with excruciating pleasure as I felt many other hands on my body. Small cool hands grasped my buttocks and genitals and squeezed them firmly. Other fingers rubbed my stomach and chest hair. Further hands touch my neck while others investigated my dripping anus.

I, in turn, slid my fingers into hairy vaginal openings, which opened up easily and completely in the hot soapy water. More tongues were forced into my mouth; sometimes two at a time, and my fingers were pulled out from between engorged labia and inserted into others.

This happened many times over. Charlotte Sanci-Savard pulled my fingers out of Lysette Pelletier's wet vagina and shoved my long middle finger up her anus as far as it would go. She swivelled around, sexily licking her tongue all over my face. Danielle Lalonde attempted to stick my other thumb up her derriere but she was not sufficiently relaxed or lubricated. Veronique Abati tried to masturbate me but was nudged off by Nicole Barbier, and Martine Cloutier who snarled at her like young leopards. 

I was clearly the focus of their sexual attentions and could not really understand why they should be fighting over me because I was no smouldering Latin 'movie star'. I got the impression that they had been starved of male company at this finishing school and I had the only penis currently available. Clearly I was not about to object.

Yvette Duchesne eventually fought her way back to me with some shampoo. She elbowed Martine Cloutier, Eloise Larocque, Isabelle Lenoir and Paulette Auclair off me as she filled her cupped hand so that it overflowed with cold shampoo. 

I had a fair idea where she was going to put it and I was correct. 

My balls suddenly sat in their own little cool bath of shampoo as she massaged the cool thick fluid under and over my testicles and pubic hair. I stared at Yvette with languorous half-closed eyes enjoying the sliminess and coolness under my bollocks. She massaged it well in. 

She poured another pool into her cupped hand and gently bathed my heavy hairy balls a second time. She poured another cool stream of slippery shampoo into the palm of her hand and again immersed my genitals in it, smearing the runny dribbling contents around the base of my scrotum, penis and perineum.

Another cold handful was slapped onto my erect penis and massaged in. Yvette used a fourth to apply to her own pubic area. 

I was so short and puny, and Yvette was so tall, at least six foot one inch at a guess, My erect penis was nowhere near her vaginal opening, in fact my penis head only extended to half way up her long thighs. There was no way I could even attempt to engage in sexual intercourse with any of these tall slim beauties in the standing position unless there happened to be a step ladder or 'mounting block' in the changing room which seemed very unlikely.

I was more than happy however to have Yvette massage shampoo into my 'privates' and French-kiss me at the same time. 

Feeling brave, I suggested to her to 'wank me off' as I seriously wanted to come. I hoped that she understood what the word 'wank' meant and would not be offended at my request. Yvette nodded and smiled; her teeth appeared perfectly white. 

Her fingers slid up and down my painfully stiff shaft. She built up the rhythm and pressure on my foreskin, firmly sliding it rhythmically over my exposed glans. 

Up and down she pulled and pushed, twisting my erection on the down stroke and squeezing my knob-end on the upstroke. Up and down she continued, up and down, up and down, twisting-pushing, pulling-squeezing. Up and down she continued sneering at me, licking warm water off my face and ears. Up and down she continued relentlessly.

In the hot mist of the shower my tongue probed her pouting mouth and her darting tongue. The sounds of her sexy groans and moans stimulated me intensely. Her hand moved rapidly as she pushed herself against me trapping me firmly against the cool shower wall. Up and down she continued increasing the tempo. 'Twisting-pushing' and 'pulling-squeezing' she spat in my face between kisses. Up and down she continued, gripping my foreskin. 

"Dirty pervert" she called me in her husky sensuous French accent kissing me with increased fervour. I could not hold back. Her hand was now moving up and down in rapid tiny short strokes concentrating her finger pressure on the bulbous head and foreskin. She was stimulating me beyond endurance. The little short strokes increased in speed and intensity. She gripped me, wanking me furiously. I couldn't hold back any longer. I felt seminal fluid begin to rise inside me ready for ejaculation. She licked my panting shaking face as I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, primed for the inevitable release.

She could clearly read my mind as she groaned loudly into my mouth as I came forcefully, squirting several thick creamy spurts all over her hand and thighs. I continued thrusting wildly until my testicles were completely drained and every last scrap of sexual energy was spent. My knees gave way and I ended up leaning against her. 

She stared into my eyes like an eagle and licked her lips. She brought her hand up to her face and licked off the thick sticky globules of semen which hadn't been washed off by the force of the shower. She ran the slimy fluid around in her mouth then kissed me again, forcing her slippery tongue down my throat. It tasted salty and slimy and my semen formed little globs in the water around her mouth which eventually were washed away in the spray. 

At last she stopped kissing me and pushed me back against the cold tiles, staring at me beneath her nose, her eyes almost closed, and spat at me calling me a 'dirty boy'. She turned and looked for some soap.

I felt zonked.

I could have remained in the shower all afternoon as part of my 'punishment'. Clearly things were looking up.

Someone shouted that there were only three minutes left and that the girls and I should curtail our bathing. I swiftly shampooed my hair and rinsed it off and allowed Yvette to finish soaping me up and rinsing me down.

As we exited the shower Lesley Hopkins, the games mistress, handed us white bath towels and I followed the 'long-legged beauties' back to the dressing room where their uniforms were waiting for them.

I noticed that their tennis skirts, soiled knickers, socks and tops had already been sorted by Miss Hoskins into separate piles for laundering.

I sat on another low bench against the wall and dried myself off as best I could. I had no idea where Miss Wiff-Naseford had put my clothes and was apprehensive about ever seeing them again. I wrapped my towel around my shoulders and watched the girls get dressed.

I had not seen Class 1B in their uniforms so I was quite intrigued to see what French girls wore underneath them. I had this vague idea that they all wore frilly cancan petticoats and lacy bloomers. I wasn't far wrong. 

I sat between Danielle Lalonde and Denise Bisson. Denise was still very much aware of her heavy period and she wiped herself thoroughly between her legs before strapping on her sanitary towel. She appeared very self conscious as I stared at her under-trappings from close quarters. She adjusted the fastenings and loops so that the absorbent towel was pulled firmly up between her legs. She than stepped into a pair of very ordinary plain white cotton knickers and continued towel drying her hair. 

Her breasts were very nicely proportioned and her nipples protruded towards me. I reached up and touched one of them. She did not pull away. She smiled and offered me the other one as well. She said that it was her 'present' to me for 'putting up with her hysterical weeping earlier on'. I told her that it didn't matter. She leant forward and rubbed them both over my upturned face. Natural my penis sprang into life beneath my towel as I stuck out my tongue and ran it around each of her areola enjoying the texture and taste. 

Danielle, not to be outdone, shook her breasts deliberately in my direction as she also towel-dried her hair. 

I stared at her pubic patch remembering her horrendously stained tennis knickers earlier on and wondering what sort of underwear she normally wore. All around me girls were retrieving their underwear from lockers and cloakroom hooks.

Danielle strapped a cream coloured lacy suspender belt around her waist and hooked it tightly above her hips. The individual suspenders hung down her very long thighs. She swivelled it around so that the metal fastenings were symmetrical. 

She sat next to me and told me to 'shove up' or "poussez-vous pour moi si'l vous plait" in her husky French accent.

I allowed her enough space for her to squeeze her wide hips next to me as she rolled up a pair of black stockings. She pushed her feet into the reinforced toes of each stocking and unrolled them slowly using the inside of both her thumbs, making sure she did not snag them or ladder them. She made several attempts at rolling them up and smoothing them down so that there were no wrinkles or overlaps. The black welts at the tops of her stockings contrasted with the pale flesh of her thighs and her pubic hair. 

Her legs were simply begging to be touched so I slid my hand over her nearer thigh as she looked at me, and my penis, under very dark lashes and smirked. She was beautiful and was quietly driving me wild with lust. 

Danielle then stood up in front of me and placed one foot on my knee for support. She attached the front suspender carefully and tensioned it methodically. She repeated her actions with the other suspender again using my knee for support. She stood up with her back to me and asked me to help with the rear suspenders to ensure the seams were straight. "Sont mes stocking nylon sur correctement?" she reiterated girlishly in her native tongue, jerking her bottom from side to side.

I told Danielle I needed to feel them to make sure they were straight so took advantage of my position below her to run my hands over her derriere and smooth nylon encased legs. I sniffed her stockings and they had a newish smell to them. Clearly she had not worn them before. Her seams were fine. Both were central and vertical.

She swivelled around and thanked me as she stepped into cream coloured lacy panties which she pulled up with care over her suspenders. Her vaginal cleft could clearly be seen through her gusset. She put on a cream coloured bra which had a similar lacy trim to match the rest of her lingerie. She fastened up the rear hook and eye and ensured her shoulder straps were in place.

Throughout her dressing she stared at my face and penis and smiled seductively sticking out her tongue and running it around her lips. She was clearly flirting with me in an outrageous manner.

Danielle was certainly an extremely attractive long legged young lady who, to me at least, epitomised French feminity and moved in a deliciously graceful and civilised way. 

Her grace was noticeable as she stepped into her wide nylon petticoat and pulled it up while shaking it down. Again as with her other lingerie her petticoat was cream coloured with a deep decorated lace hem which consisted of a delicate design of leaves and flowers.

I could not help myself and fondled her pert derriere through her flounced underskirt. I felt the seductive smooth texture of nylon sliding over nylon sliding over firm flesh. I was completely blown away.

She took her navy blue tartan school skirt off its hanger and unzipped it and shook out the heavy concertina pleats. Stepping into it she pushed her petticoat carefully down and around her hips, bottom and thighs and pulled her skirt up and zipped it ensuring that she did not trap any part of her cream nylon underskirt. 

She stood in front of me and reached under her skirt and pulled her petticoat down evenly so it hung neatly underneath her flared knee-length pleated skirt. She put on her white blouse and grey v-neck sweater, tucking the former into the waistband of her skirt. She stepped into her brilliantly polished high-heeled patent-leather court shoes and she was instantly three inches taller. 

She said to me "Mon jupon montre-t-elle au-dessous de ma jupe?" which I understood meant "Can you see my petticoat peeping out from beneath the hem of my skirt?"

I sat slouched on my bench as she twirled around in front of me. Naturally her pleats swung out and I could see her underskirt but as they dropped back into place there was no sign of her cream flowery lacy hems. 

I told her that I needed to check her stocking seams again. I got off the bench and knelt lecherously on the floor, my towel covering my waist and prominent genitals, and asked her to stand with her back to me and bend her knees. With her in position I lifted up her skirt and petticoat and pushed my head underneath. 

In the darkness her seams were obviously fine. I breathed in her scent and nuzzled her panties and she pushed back against me rubbing her knicker clad derriere firmly into my face. My erection ached for attention. She stood up and her hems dropped down again. Danielle put on her wristwatch and brushed out her hair staring down, pouting kisses at me and smiling. The other girls had finished dressing and stood about ready to leave.

There was no sign of Miss Wiff-Naseford, Miss Hamilton or Miss Hoskins. Clearly they had all left for afternoon tea in the staffroom or whatever.

It was four o'clock and school had officially finished for the day. I was not sure whether I should return to the headmistress's office for a further strapping down session or stay with Class 1B. The girls were clearly still intrigued with having a semi-naked 20-year old man with them. 

Martine Cloutier gathered the girls around her and said in a manner she thought I could not hear or understand. "Nous reviendrons a notre dortoir et aurons le sexe avec 'Monsieur Tom'," They huddled around her giggling and glancing in my direction. Their skirt pleats shook against their black nyloned knees as they laughed out loud.

Fortunately for me I understood that basically they wanted to get me back to their dormitory where they would have sex with me. I was obviously quite pleased with the prospect but hoped I wasn't required to have multiple intercourse with all of them as clearly I would have to be carried out on a stretcher or, worse still, in a hearse.

They walked over to me where I was sitting on the floor of the changing room looking pathetic wearing my deliberately cultivated 'little boy lost' look which most women warmed to. 

Jacqueline Lemieux placed a high-heeled shoe on the bench next to me and leant forward and told me that they were going to smuggle me up to their dormitory in the attic on the third floor of the south wing. She explained that it was a very long room and all twenty of them slept there and if I wanted to escape from Miss Wiff-Naseford and her 'insane punishments' I should go with them. She did not mention having sex; she didn't need to as I could already smell it in the atmosphere.

I moved my head slowly under Jacqueline's skirt and pure white nylon underskirt trimmed with scalloped inserts of white Calais lace. I pushed my head so that my lips touched her stocking top and breathed in the odours from between her legs. Clearly she was already worked up. I licked my way up and down her inner thigh then stopped as I felt a shoe kick me in my ribs. I pulled my head out from under her skirt and looked up.




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 08



Marianne Martineau and Nadia Brun nudged me with their knees and pointed to their skirt hems. They both stood against me with their legs apart. I understood from the way they looked down at me that they wanted my hands up their uniforms. The eighteen-year olds glared at me impassively as I knelt in front of them peering up. I slid my hands along their inner legs starting at their shoes and progressed symmetrically trying to judge my speed so that I would attain both goals at the same time. 

Nadia nudged me again to hurry up. My hands felt the heat from between their legs as my fingers caressed their way inside their skirts and petticoats. The smoothness of their stockings made way to the soft but firm flesh of their inner thighs which appeared hot and clammy. One of them had a lacy crotch, the other had a smooth silky crotch I tried to rub their clefts at the same speed and pressure but being right handed I could only manage to stimulate the lacy crotch which happened to be Nadia's. 

Her white lacy panties were well and truly damp and I lifted her skirt with my head and joined my hand to see what I had done. In the semi-darkness I could smell the familiar smell of fresh musky vagina juice as my nostrils pushed their way between her legs and I savoured the aroma like a playful puppy. She smelled so fresh and wholesome and in every way her female scent was of a hundred percent aroused woman.

Several others stood around me and dropped their skirts over my head, and bending their knees pulled my face into their crotches. Again I could not understand why women did this. Was it some sort of primitive fertility rite, were they proving that they were sexually receptive? I did not mind this type of open skirt-flirting and found it incredibly erotic. 

Yvette Duchesne, my shower-partner, pushed her black nylon knees into me and lifted up then dropped her skirt and petticoat over my upturned face. Her underwear was exquisitely trimmed in a modern day version of Point de Gaze and Gros Point. Her petticoat appeared far too ornate for everyday school wear and I was impressed by its intricacy. Her matching suspender belt clearly showed me that this girl came from a wealthy, possibly aristocratic, background. Perhaps her forebears had escaped 'Madame Guillotine.' 

Louise Bazaine pushed herself against my face, lifted her pleated skirt and dropped it over my head. I was trapped between her inner skirt and white full-skirted petticoat. I pushed forward and felt my cheek brush against knobbly suspender fastenings which were concealed by the slippery nylon material of her underslip. I rubbed my face against her thighs through her petticoat and experienced the seductive hissing sound of silky nylon slip sliding over fine denier nylons. 

Before I could continue further with my underkirt exploration I felt another kick in my ribs and it was Isabelle Lenoir standing in her four inch stiletto heels staring down at me. She pushed herself firmly against me and parted her legs. She kicked me again.

She told me to "Poussez votre tete sous ma jupe," which clearly meant that she wanted my head under her skirt. Who was I to argue with a lady?

(Continued in part nine)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 09



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it. 

I had decided not to get the police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to Peeping Toms. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and fettered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part nine of my tale)

*

She told me to "Poussez votre tete sous ma jupe," which meant that she wanted my head under her skirt. Who was I to argue with a lady?

Isabelle Lenoir told me to "Léchez s'il vous plaît mon con et faites-moi l'orgasme" which I understood meant that she wanted me to give her an orgasm.

I knelt down in front of her and slid my hands up inside her skirt and petticoat and pulled down her warm nylon knickers as she stepped out of them holding on to my shoulders for support. They were damp in the crotch and smelled very aromatic but slightly of garlic. She stood against me and kicked me hard again. I yelped as it really did hurt. What was wrong with this French bitch; did she think that she was supposed to be actually punishing me for being this so called Peeping Tom?

"Faites accélérer et bourrez votre langue en haut mon con mouillé." She shouted kneeing me on the shoulder as she lifted her skirt above my head. I understood vaguely that she wanted 'my tongue up her dripping cunt', and quickly.

She reached under her skirt and pulled up her flared lacy petticoat and draped it casually over my head and pulled me savagely into her crotch. Instantly I slobbered my way up between her legs caressing the smoothness of her stockings where they met the soft firmness of her warm thighs.

"Mon vagin vous attend pervert. Continuez-le maintenant." She insisted and squeezed my face quite hard between her thighs. She wanted me to 'attend' to her vagina as if I was some sort of domestic 'genital-servant'. What part of France was she from? and on which planet? 

I was not going to stand for this rudeness any more as I was doing my best trying to facilitate her petulant orgasm. I pinched her firmly on her buttocks making sure that my nails really dug in hard. She slapped my head through her skirt swearing at me loudly. I had had quite enough of this impolite behaviour so angrily I thrust my tongue deeply within the folds of her labia into the smooth slippery sheath of her vaginal passage and moved it around furiously in big circles stretching her noticeably. I gripped her hips so that she could not pull away from me. She squealed with wild delight. 

The atmosphere under her petticoat and skirt was becoming extremely humid and I could see in the half-light a glistening trail of 'female love juice' trickling steadily down her thighs. I pushed my longest finger inside her and then a second while I tongued her clitoris mercilessly. Her squeals turned by degrees into soft moans.

I was no longer Mr.'Nice Guy', nor Mr Polite 'Little Boy Lost' or even 'Mr. Pathetic'. I was a 'red-blooded sexually-charged' male now clearly intent on fucking anyone with two legs and a cunt who happened to be lucky enough to find themselves in the same room as me.

I continued servicing Miss Lenoir with my tongue and fingers and was insistent that she was going to enjoy the best orgasm of her life. Her moans became louder and more explicit.

Her knees bent as she swivelled her pubic area and pelvis over my face and hair. I heard her groans muffled by her skirt. She kneed me again and I punched her hard on her leg making her scream and swear. 

I heard the gentle scuffling of high heels as the other girls gathered around. Beneath Isabelle's skirt I noticed several pairs of patent-leather court shoes pushing up against us. Clearly her groans and moans were causing curious interest amongst her classmates. They were whispering words of encouragement to her and to me. 

Her skirt shook violently around me as she rubbed herself rhythmically and slimily against my face. I had three fingers inside her and I was still stimulating her clitoris. We continued like this for several minutes. I pushed her further towards her orgasm. My penis head rubbed against her stockings and its sensitive end suffered from friction burns. We were almost wrestling with each other like two circling widcats. 

Her legs twitched and shook against me until my whole underskirt world was a moving seething mass of black nylon stockinged legs, white slippery underskirted hips and a warm wet hairy slimy vagina thrusting into me persistently. From every angle I could hear swishing and froufrouing as nylon slid over nylon.

Her gaping vagina was rubbed over my face ceaselessly. Eventually I removed my fingers and concentrated every part of my face in stimulating her clitoris. Another three or four minutes passed and I still continued until I sensed she could take no more. Above me her thighs gripped my cheeks as she spasmed and swore wildly. 

She remained clamped to my face as I felt her vaginal muscles tighten up, lightly soar then go into spasms for a second time. 

I kept up my insistent lapping and tonguing as I felt her whole body float on the brink then judder and shake as if hit by several seismic shock waves, one after the other. Her screams filled the echoing room.

Isabelle Lenoir orgasmed for a third time. 

Her screaming stopped to be replaced by laboured breathing as she slowly eased herself off me, perspiration running across my face from her thighs. She collapsed weeping with pleasure. Every part of my face was wet with her juices. Her petticoat was stained.

I ducked out from under her skirt gasping for air. The other nineteen or so pairs of eyes fixed themselves on me having seen me give a woman a proper orgasm, a multiple one at that. Suddenly I saw respect written on their faces instead of disdain, disgust or pity.

I asked Danielle Lalonde, whom I realised spoke most English, to tell the rest of her French classmates that was not some perverted Peeping Tom and that I was merely a bird spotter, or ornithologist who had been mistaken for a pervert by their insane demented headmistress who was hell bent on getting me to 'orally pleasure' her whole damned school. Danielle explained this in detail and there were several puzzled 'Ah ouis' from the gathered throng.

The girls got together in a huddle and spoke softly in French to each other, so softly in fact that I could not make out what they were saying.

"Obtenons ce 'Tom' à notre dortoir de sorte que tous les nous puissent apprécier le sexe avec lui" I could just about make out that they wished to take me back to there dormitory as soon as possible where they intended to have none-stop sex with me.

"We want you to come up to our dormitory and do sexy things to us please Tom," Said Danielle being explicit. 

I told them that I wanted to fuck one of them right here, right now. 

"Right here, right now, I need to fuck one of you, or else there will be no 'night of sex' and I will not do 'sexy things' to you." I threatened, still no longer Mr. 'Nice Guy' with my 'Little Boy Lost' eyes, which usually worked so well on women of all ages.

I stared around at them and my eyes rested on the tallest of them all, Nicole Barbier, the blonde haired eighteen year old 'catwalk' model with the swiveling strutting hips. I decided I would fuck her. She stared back at me her big brown eyes and lashes looking demurely under her straw coloured fringe. Once more I recognized her as a pure 'sexual animal' after tennis dress session. 

She was an angel of a girl, amazingly tall with a uniquely beautiful aristocratic face. 

"You, Nicole Barbier, come here," I ordered. She pushed her way towards me. Standing at six-foot three-inches, in addition to her three-inch heels, she really was a magnificent creature.

"Nicole, stand in front of me," I said patting my knee. She walked up to me her hips swinging from side to side. Her legs touched my knee as her pleats hung over my naked lap and the heat from the space beneath her skirt became increasingly intense.

"Turn round with your back to me," I told her. She didn't understand so Danielle told her to "Retournez-vous avec votre revers à moi,"

" Ah oui, monsieur," she answered in her sensual deep French growl. She twisted around so that her pleats swung out, flicked up and swished across my face revealing a very lacy two-tiered pale pink petticoat beneath. As her skirt dropped back into place she placed her parted stockinged legs firmly to each side of my bare knees. 

She shook her hair. 

Her blonde hair cascaded down her back and she turned to look down upon me over her shoulder. She stood before me like a giant doll with her pert arse at more or less the level of my face. Her legs were amazingly long and judging from my formidable erection Mademoiselle Barbier and the others could see I was savouring the prospect of doing 'sexy things' to this cat-walk model.

In true Gallic style Nicole swiveled and twirled her buttocks creating a froufrou sound from under her pleats. Her hems shook from side to side as she swung her derriere over and around my field of vision. If I did not fuck her now, I thought, I would orgasm there and then. She began singing a now familiar French nursery song....

"Que fait ma main? Elle caresse : doux, doux, doux Elle pince : ouille, ouille, ouille, Elle chatouille : guili, guili, guili, Elle gratte : gre, gre, gre Elle frappe : pan, pan, pan Elle danse : hop, hop, hop Et puis... elle s'en va!"

Danielle Lalonde translated it as.....

"What is my hand doing? It caresses: soft, soft, soft It pinches: ouch, ouch, ouch It tickles: tickle, tickle, tickle It scratches: scratch, scratch, scratch It hits: whack, whack, whack It dances: twirl, twirl, twirl And then... it goes away!"

I shuddered as my mind was filled with the images of a long legged Nicole Barbier and Michelle Lesquereux singing in their girlish voices as they spread their summer dresses over the upturned faces of village boys somewhere in isolated meadows away from public gaze. I imagined them manipulating these boys' penises while acting out the various movements in line with the little nursery song. Perhaps they did more than actually manipulate?

"Ask Nicole if she ever sucked any of the village boy's penises?" I said to Danielle my translator

"Les garçons du village vous ont-ils demandé oui je devais toujours sucer leurs pénis?."

"Oui, Je devrais aussi avaler leur semence. Un garçon du village me tiendrait par la tête pendant que l'autre garçon masturberait et remplirait ma bouche du sperme de sucer leurs pénis" Nicole replied in a puzzled way wondering why I wished to know. 

Danielle quickly translated it as "yes I always had to suck their penises. I would also have to swallow their semen. One village boy would hold me by the head while the other boy would masturbate and fill my mouth with sperm."

In an instant I understood all I needed to know about 'Miss Tall's' background and was keen to take advantage of it. 

With her back to me I ran my hands up her black smooth stockings, over her knees and under her wide pleated skirt and pink lacy petticoat. I caressed her stocking tops luxuriating in the tactile contrast between smooth nylon and firm skin. 

My hands hovered around her suspender clips and I slid a finger under her suspender straps which were taught and tight against her flesh. My palms felt her flinch slightly as I touched the lace trim of her knickers. 

Her knickers were very loose legged and were slippery and shiny. The lacy flared legs felt scratchy and starched. I brushed my fingers against her pubic hair beneath her knickers and again she flinched pushing her delightful pleat-skirted French derriere into my face as I sat against her with her astride my knees. For the first time I noticed her perfume, not her natural one but the one she had sprayed over herself after the shower. 

The odour was of 'wild flowers' and my mind immediately wandered back to her home village and visualized her being used by the local boys. I could see this eighteen year old willow like six-foot three-inch creature being led into a field, or perhaps into a wood by boys of her age but not of her stature. 

They would be holding her by her hands or perhaps her summer dress, pushing her and pulling her like drones around a queen bee. Her high bottom would be swinging to and fro flicking her hems out provocatively, perhaps revealing her underskirt. The atmosphere would be like frenzy. How many were there? Two? Three? a dozen? I visualized them dropping to their knees staring up at her, perhaps masturbating. I could see her straddling their faces while singing her song. Some may have asked for her to peepee whilst wanking. My mind returned to my 'model girl' and continued with my under skirt exploration.

By instinct I rubbed her crotch area. Even if I tried to touch her elsewhere it returned to her pubic hair beneath her French knickers. She held me by the wrist through her plaid skirt to prevent me from removing it. 

She began moaning, pushing her derriere in small circles against my nose. The pleats made a scratchy soft sound as they brushed against me; I could also feel the slippery nylon petticoat sliding over her body from within her skirt. Everything was moving in front of me being swirled around by her curvaceous buttocks. 

Her moaning increases as I applied more pressure to her crotch. I eased the damp loose gusset to one side while my middle finger began making tantalising circles around her outer lips. Her grip on my wrist was intense and she guided me to her clitoris. "Que fait votre main?"

"What is your hand doing?" she sang, "It caresses soft, soft, soft."

"Elle caresse:doux, doux, doux" she moaned in time to her rhyme. Her hips swayed widely as I inserted my finger into her and slid it up and down and from side to side inside her. I could feel the various textures of her folds and vaginal sheath. Nicole was very well lubricated and judged it was the right time to enter her. 

I slid her knickers down to her ankles where she stepped out of them still singing her childish song with a marked lisp which made her even more enchanting. She peered over her shoulder smiled and pouted through her long blonde hair. With her arms raised above her head she wiggled and shook her pleats around in front of me. I grabbed her by her waist and firmly pushed her forwards and told her to kneel on all fours in front of me so I could mount her from behind. I wanted to tell her to 'behave' and not to be so silly.

"Elle chatouille : guili, guili, guili, Elle gratte : gre, gre, gre."

"It tickles: tickle, tickle, tickle It scratches: scratch, scratch, scratch," she sang in her little 'French girl accent' 

She did not understand what all-fours meant so picked up her kickers and rubbed the crotch over my nose. Instantly my penis stood up. The smell was highly concentrated, almost as intense as Maria Kingsland's, why hadn't I noticed it on Nicole earlier on her tennis clothes? 

"Danielle can you tell Nicole to kneel on all fours and get ready to be fucked." I said to my interpreter.

"Nicole Tom veut que vous s'agenouilliez sur vos mains et genoux pour qu'il puisse entrer dans vous avec son pénis"

"Ah Oui oui oui." she said kissing me passionately as she positioned herself on the floor with her bottom in the air. 

I knelt behind her and flipped her skirt across her back, followed by her pink petticoat which was hemmed with inserts of white Calais lace, including two luscious slit vents at the sides. Her suspenders framed her fabulous firm pear shaped buttocks at the top and her black stockings framed the view from below.

I knelt there transfixed and completely in awe of this perfect arse. I pushed her legs further apart to get the entry angle and height correct for my relatively puny frame. I held my penis firmly as Nicole reached under her to guide me in.

I eased my seven inches of thick erection towards the moist opening and pushed myself slowly in. Her muscles were tight and I left my penis remain fairly static until she became used to it. Once again she squealed and lisped her little song, moving backwards and forwards sliding her vagina up and down my now slimy shaft. I let her establish a rhythm and I bucked a counter rhythm moving forwards as she pushed backwards. 

All around us the other girls watched. I sensed that they wished that I would hurry up so that they could get me back to their dormitory for a naked session of dirty abandoned afternoon-sex. 

One of them, I think it was Angelique, said she was 'bursting for peepee' and could she fill my mouth. I told her in no uncertain way, gasping through effort that much as I'd like to I couldn't swallow her urine and fuck Nicole at the same time. She dashed off to the loo and came back with dripping knickers and wrapped the crotch over my face. What was it about these French girls and their knickers?

After several minutes we built up a greater tempo. There was a suction sound as my penis slid in and out. Nicole's vaginal juices were soaking the insides of her thighs. I felt her grip her muscles as she squeezed my now primed penis. Only a few more strokes and I would orgasm. I tried to delay and hold back. I kept it going. 

"Elle caresse: doux, doux, doux Elle pince: ouille, ouille, ouille,"

Several of the other girls joined in. It was becoming like some bizarre scene from 'Monty Python's Flying Circus'. 'The French Fucking Song' maybe! 

I kept things moving. Her lyrics degenerated into incoherent moans and squeals as I gradually brought her to orgasm. Goodness knows how she could concentrate on her inner feelings and instincts in this 'echo-chamber' of a changing room. She swore as she came. I was ready for her to faint again as I felt seminal fluid gradually build up inside me then spurt into her in ten vigorous thrusts. I gasped and fell on top of her. Nicole collapsed under me and my face became entangled with her very long hair where it lay over her flipped up pink lacy petticoat. Both of us gasped for air and lay there panting like two racehorses. 

The girls stopped their singing and suddenly seemed less interested in us and appeared to be backing away. 

Behind me I could hear the thud of high heels on the carpeted dressing room floor. 

"What the hell has been going on here?" bellowed Miss Amelia Wiff-Naseford standing in the doorway.

(Continued in part 10)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 10



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it. 

I had decided not to get the police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to Peeping Toms. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and fettered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part ten of my tale.)

*

Behind me I could hear the thud of high heels on the carpeted dressing room floor. 

"What the hell has been going on here?" bellowed Miss Amelia Wiff-Naseford standing in the doorway.

"I, I can, err, can explain," I stammered to her, reverting back to my somewhat pathetic puppy-dog self.

"I can clearly see what has happened; you have just deflowered the daughter of the French Ambassador to the UK, Monsieur Jean-Paul Barbier. Who the hell do you think you are 'Mr. Perverted Peeping Tom'? This could ruin the reputation of the school you bloody idiot. What the hell is going on here? I gave no one permission to loiter in the shower changing rooms after dressing and certainly did not allow permission for sexual intercourse. Now get back to your dormitory, all of you, and do your homework."

Miss Wiff-Naseford dismissed the French girls making up Class 1B. I threw the urine-sodden knickers which Angelique had draped over my face towards Miss Brongniart. She picked them up and walked out with them grinning at me. 

The French Ambassador's daughter stood up and wiped her semen dripping crotch with her knickers and hobbled out, still reeling from my intensive rodgering. They left the shower room dressing area and I was left alone with the insane head teacher.

"Under my skirt Tom, give me a proper orgasm, immediately," screamed the mad bitch of a headmistress raising her grey tweed skirt and petticoat to waist level.

"I will only feel better if you make me 'come' between my legs, now get on with it lad."

I knelt in front of her as she dropped her heavy tweed pleats over me and shook them down again. I worked my head up the narrow space between her thighs and petticoat. I could tell she was sexually aroused. 

The stink from her cunt appeared far more intense than the eighteen-year olds I had orally serviced recently. Clearly Miss Wiff-Naseford was a formidable character especially when 'on-heat'. Her odour was sickly sweet and filled my nostrils with the smell of ripe ammonia and savoury primitive smells. I was intoxicated by her pheromones and breathed in her mature and distinctive natural scent. 

I could not express clearly how I felt but suddenly began to appreciate my nose being pushed into the head teachers dribbling orifice. She had a fierce bouquet between her legs which had a primeval animal attraction. 

Miss Wiff-Naseford reached up slowly behind her skirt and into the waistband of her stained undergarment. She slid off her damp French knickers over her suspenders and down her dark brown stockings. She kicked me to one side as she stepped out of them. I resumed my position with my head up her skirt probing her now naked hairy outer lips with my tongue. 

She pulled my face into her. Rubbing herself up and down against me. Her juices lubricated the prominent parts of my nose, lips and chin which became slippery with her secretions. She told me to stop again and pushed me out of the way as she unbuttoned and unzipped her skirt and dropped it to the floor in front of me.

"Put it over there 'Tom'." she stammered squeakily, clearly worked-up and not in complete control. I did as she told me to, carefully folding it, feeling it's weight.

"Get your head back under my petticoat quickly lad," she continued in little gasps. 

Again I slid my head under the tight confined space between her thighs and her long white lace edged petticoat. It was very slippery and smelly and my tongue entered and re-entered her fleshy lips now resembling a rare exotic fruit in colour and texture.  

Her lubrication bubbled out in a consistent stream covering my face in slime. I felt as if I was actually part of her vagina, a mere appendage providing her with pleasure. She was violently pulling my face into her wiping her pubic area all over it in a circular and up-and-down motion. Her hands gripped me like vices as she pulled herself into me squirming sensuously and fervently.

"Oh this is heavenly, oh Tom, Tom, Tom, make me come, make me come," She cooed with a far away expression. We continued for several minutes then suddenly she spasmed, then orgasmed, her whole body shaking and quaking.

"Oh yes, oh yes, heavenly, oh yes," she mewed in a girlish way, clearly enjoying the waves of pleasure gripping her.

She held onto me and continued rubbing her genitalia in rapid movements tensing up for her second orgasm which welled up from deep inside her drifted over her and shook her furiously.

"Oh yes, you bastard, yes you sweet little pervert, oh yes, oh yes," her shrill voice echoed around the room. I could hardly breathe with her slimy mucous blocking my nostrils. 

She still held on bucking wildly, rapidly and incessantly rubbing her clitoris firmly up and over my slippery nose; my tongue muscles felt numb through all the effort I was putting in to help her orgasm. 

For many minutes we continued like this. The atmosphere under her nylon petticoat was very hot and humid and crackled with static discharge. I felt that the front of my face was being slowly eroded away by her frantic furious frottage. My face could not take much more of her onslaught. Suddenly she stopped, shuddered and clamped her inner thighs around my cheeks. Her grip was almost painful. 

Wave after wave hit her as her vaginal muscles quivered, juddered and spasmed around me. She swore violently, shaking my head like a terrier with a rabbit with her strong thighs. 

She swore again, disengaged her legs from my head, and finally stepped off me, her underwear drenched through.

She looked at me behind her steel rimmed spectacles and smirked in a very self satisfied way, wiping herself with a towel. She threw me her knickers and told me to wipe my face with it.

"Well 'Tom' it appears that you do have your uses, and I understand from what I overheard earlier that you and Class 1B intend to do 'sexy things' tonight in their dormitory 'Tom'. They are going to do 'sexy things' to you and you in turn will reciprocate no doubt by doing 'sexy things' to them 'Tom', What a lucky young chap you are, all those 'sexy girls' all doing 'sexy things' to you, all night Tom. Just think you will be spending the whole night doing 'sexy things' to each other. Lots of 'sexy things' Tom, 'lovely sexy' things." 

In my nakedness Amelia Wiff-Naseford could see from the state of my erection, which was like a twitching ramrod, that I was not far off an orgasm. I clenched myself trying not to come. I closed my eyes with tension.

I stood up concentrating on trying not to come.

"Sexy things 'Tom' all that naked flesh, all those tall young strutting French girls all wiggling their hips, and bending over and shaking their breasts at you all doing 'sexy things' to you Tom, all those lovely 'sexy things', all night long Tom." said the taunting headmistress kneeling in front of me, her mouth breathing on my purple knob end.

"All those beautiful 'sexy things' Tom," she said torturing me. "All that lovely smooth young French flesh." 

I felt her warm wet lips grip my foreskin while her cool hands fondled my balls, squeezing them, then scratching them. She scatched the insides of my thighs and stomach. Her nails scratched me everywhere. She flicked at my exposed glans with her tongue and gently but firmly sucked me into her mouth. She pushed a long finger slowly into my anus and moved around it just inside my sphincter. 

I held onto Miss Wiff-Nasefords ears under her bun of greying hair. I pushed my pelvis in rapid short motions for several minutes, groaning at her, telling her she was a dirty forty-year-old slut, as her lips gripped me tightly.

The sensations were all too much. I felt seminal fluid making it's way up my penis.

Her glasses were steamed up as she looked up at me with her attractive but challenging eyes. 

"Sexy things" she gurgled as we built up the rhythm. I could hold back no longer and immediately pumped seven rapid globs of semen into the headmistress' mouth and held myself to her, ensuring that she swallowed the lot.

"Oh you bloody stupid little pervert," she said wiping her mouth with the towel, her saliva and my semen dribbling down her chin. 

She tried to spit it out but I smiled at her and said that I enjoyed her doing 'sexy things' to me.

I felt that the score was roughly even. 

(Continued in part 11)

I apologise for the brevity of this chapter. 



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 11



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it. 

I had decided not to get the police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to Peeping Toms. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and fettered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part eleven of my tale.)

*

"Oh you bloody stupid little pervert," Miss Wiff-Naseford said wiping her mouth with the towel, her saliva and my semen dribbling down her chin. She tried to spit it out but it was too late, she'd swallowed the lot. I laughed secretly.

Matron cleaned me up and after yet another shower I was led back naked to the headmistress's 'punishment room', namely her office. 

There again before me lay the familiar four leather straps attached to long ropes which met in the middle of the room to which I would be tied so that I remained fettered and restrained for the many women and girls of the Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls to pleasure themselves upon my upturned face. 

The main part of the punishment was that I could not relieve myself sexually no matter how much I wished to 'come'. It was a devilishly cunning but simple punishment thought up by the first headmistress Geraldine Maxine Bliss-Frampton in 1889. 

I could imagine Miss Bliss-Frampton having a tightly corseted hour glass figure. I could imagine her testing out the ingenious apparatus on, say, the eighteen year old gardener's son. He'd be strapped down, face up, jerking his naked body to and fro, his head churning from side to side trying to escape. She would be wearing jet black, with the merest hint of a pure white lacy underskirt peeping from below her heavily gathered pleated skirts. 

She would be looking down on the young fellow as she reached up behind her skirts and petticoats to loosen the tight waist band of her crotchless drawers. She may even be walking over the young chap dragging her skirts and starched petticoat lace slowly up and down his bare torso and over his face. His stiff penis would be her sign that the punishment was working.

Loosening the tapes of her underdrawers she would slide off her warm damp knickers and place them to one side. Her 1889 petticoats would be making a froufrou, swish-swish sound as she paced around the room like a caged panther.

The boy would be looking more and more anxious and apprehensive as she approached him. Slowly and very deliberately she would lift her skirts and place one of her two-inch heeled black ankle boots heavily on one side of his face and the other black ankle boot on the other side. She would be facing his face. His head would be between her feet resting on the solid narrow pillow beneath her. 

She would stand there, straddling him, with her skirt and many layers of petticoats raised to her knees for a few moments staring, smiling and snarling at the fear in his eyes and at his helplessness. Over her shoulder she could see pre-cum form on his enormous erection which was straining with every sinew to enter her. He was like a trapped animal. His heart would be beating fast. 

Above him Miss Geraldine Maxine Bliss-Frampton, MA, age 47, Headmistress of Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls would tower like some fearsome goddess. The young eighteen year old beneath her would be staring at the immense immodesty above him. 

A mature woman with her engorged genitalia and undergarments on display would have driven him wild with primitive desires. She would casually drop her skirt and petticoats over him and stand there shaking them down for a minute or two so everything was prim and proper. Her vaginal odour would be evident, it's primordial strength would be building up within the confines of her thick skirts.

Under her garments the boy would be lost in a darkened frilly lacy flouncy petticoat cavern beneath her. Her black stockings would have contrasted with the starched whiteness of her petticoats. She may have even dragged her frills and lacy hems many times over his naked body to intensify the punishment.

Gradually she would bend and open her knees, pushing her garments out of the way on every side as she did so. The boy would become invisible as her skirts began to conceal and envelope the upper part of his body. She would slowly squat firmly on his face to the accompaniment of the many swish-swish, rustling sounds of silks and froufrou sounds of starched petticoat lace sliding over crisp petticoat lace. 

Miss Geraldine Maxine Bliss-Frampton would shuffle forward squatting on her heels until her warm damp smelly hairy vagina rested on his mouth. 

"Tongue out boy," she would bellow loudly and sternly and push herself further down on him. Out would come his tongue like a nervous rabbit and enter the awaiting hot moist unknown burrow above him. 

"Now begin licking boy and do not stop, understand?" she would demand with authority.

The boy would say "eoaagff," as his mouth gagged on her pubic hair and his tongue was pushed brutally inside her. Instinctively he would lick her clitoris and the smooth insides of her inner lips. Her female lubrication, like thin honey, would spread over his face as she rubbed herself over him using every part of his face like a mere disposable masturbatory tool.

"Oooh yes, sheer joy, bliss, yes, divine, yes, yes, bliss,divine, heavenly joy, oh, oh, yes, oooh yes, yes, yes, out of this world, ooh yes just divine ooh yes," she would exclaim, the oohs sounding as she slid her slippery vaginal lips along the boy's nose.

After many minutes of continuous rocking, rubbing and sliding Miss Geraldine Maxine Bliss-Frampton would slowly but surely orgasm all over the poor lads face, almost drowning him in female juices. Within seconds she would be off him and leave the room....... He would be left with his semen flowing gently out, oozing its way onto his smooth hairless boyish stomach in a constant stream.

Meanwhile back in 1960, while thinking about the first headmistress, matron had been busy strapping me down again. I was tethered to the floor once more, unable to move with the narrow solid six-inch pillow supporting my head at the most efficient angle and height for orally pleasuring a woman in the squatting position above me. 

Miss Wiff-Naseford sat behind me on the low leather chair in the prime position for viewing my punishment. I noticed that she had a bottle of gin and some tonic water on the table next to her. Clearly all this was mere entertainment for her. I looked down towards the doorway, which was at the far end of the room and in traipsed three girls in French maid's uniforms to the accompaniment of the clatter of high heels. I thought I was imagining things and Miss Wiff-Naseford probably thought the same way too.

"Pray tell me who you are, young' French maids' who look clearly lost?" said the head teacher behind me in a sing-song contralto voice. 

"We are from class 2A; the drama teacher said we have to punish a Peeping Tom? We are in the middle of a dress rehearsal for the 'Autumn Review', Miss Wiff-Naseford," said one of them.

"What are we to do?" said the spokes person clattered towards me, a bit unsteady on her very high heels.

Her uniform was basically a black full-circle gathered taffeta flounced knee-length dress with plunging neckline. Beneath her dress were masses of white net petticoat which swayed from side to side as she swung her hips provocatively. I thought that it would be very difficult not to look provocative in a French maid's uniform. Under her petticoats she wore white tiered pettipants and beneath these white suspender belts attached to black fishnet stockings . She also wore black patent-leather four-inch stiletto heels. She carried a little pink feather duster.

I may go into 'hair-trigger-ejaculation-mode' at any moment, I thought. All my wildest fantasies appeared to be coming true.

"Who are you?" asked Miss W-N to the first one.

"Susan Laing Miss."

"And are you having a period Susan?" She asked, staring over her steel framed glasses.

"No, miss."

"That's good Susan now remove your knickers and sit on Peeping Tom's face."

"How do you mean sit on his face? Miss?"

"Oh my, my, more problems, more problems. Why do I have to always explain everything? Girls, girls, quickly. come over here and I'll show you what to do." 

From across the floor I heard the click, clatter, click of high heeled shoes tottering towards me as the French maids surrounded me. Above me were petticoats, hips and thighs, fishnets, skirts and suspender belts. Miss Wiff-Naseford stood over me placing one foot on each side of my face. She had changed her knickers and was now wearing pale pink satin ones with white lace hems. She lifted her skirt and petticoat and squatted down and shifted forward so that my nose was rammed forcefully into the already moist cleft in her knicker gusset.

"That's what you do girls, without panties of course and 'Tom' here will use his tongue on you and 'tickle' you and hopefully will make you 'come', do you all understand?" She asked looking up at the three sweet young faces.

"He won't bite will he Miss?" said one in an impeccable 'home counties' accent. 

"No of course not, will you 'Tom'?" as she kicked me hard gritting her teeth and reminding me that the local constabulary were in the next village. I smiled up her skirt at her knickers and said that I would not bite, only 'lick lovingly' and smirked. 

Susan Laing was a tall red-head with very shapely legs. She looked down at me and told me not to bite as she said that she was particularly tender between her legs. I winked at her and gave her panty crotch a lecherous look licking my lips in anticipation. 

She reached under her skirt and petticoats and into the waistband of her pettipants and slid them down over her black fishnet stockinged legs. My eyes feasted excitedly on the seven or eight ruffles of overlapping white tiered lace which decorated her knickers. 

As could have been predicted, Susan dropped them on my face and rubbed them over me with the soles of one shoe. The rehearsals must have been very demanding because they were full of perspiration and smelled of warm vagina. She fished them off me and stood above me. 

My eyes scanned the wonderful view up her French Maid's dress. Her petticoat rustled and shook above me like a large ballerina's dress emphasizing every little movement of her elegant frame. All the nylon net was finished in several tiers of fine scalloped starched floral lace which made her appear to resemble a large doll. Facing towards me she placed one stiletto to one side of my face and the other on the other side; she shuffled and swayed and looked towards Miss Wiff-Naseford. 

"Sit on him girl, lets see your arse on his face," said the headmistress not mincing words. "Wipe your wet pussy over his nose, you might actually enjoy it girl, go on." 

I stared up at her wiggling my tongue in encouragement. Despite looking 'red hot' in her lacy French Maid's uniform Susan was still unsure about me. Then all at once there was a sudden flutter of shaking petticoats above me as she squatted full and firmly onto my waiting face. 

She looked to the entire world as if she was about to urinate in my mouth and I hoped earnestly that she would not do so. 

I poked my way into her little hairy crevice while all about me her stiff lace underskirts were rustling, swishing and swaying. I was in another petticoat world. I had lost count how many I had entered and survived all my petticoat encounters during the day. 

Her rubbings became more fervent and insistent and I was under the impression that this little madam was determined to 'have her orgasm' at all costs. The rhythm increased. I sensed that Miss W-N was slurping her gin in fascination.

I, on my part, continued slurping Susan's prominent vagina which actually seemed to be making sucking sounds as we were so tightly clamped together. Her breath was coming out in little sighs and gasps.

Her fishnet stockings rubbed against my upturned face. They were quite coarse in texture and were unlike everyday smooth stockings and I was surprised how rough they felt. I had never felt fishnet stockings before.

I nibbled her clitoris with little double tongue-flicks as she began to gurgle with excitement. I pushed her on. Her maids dress moved up and down above me, and her lacy hems crackled and rustling loudly around me. It would not be long before she would orgasm. I licked and probed and sucked and slobbered and pushed her onward, my tongue, nose and lips stimulating every part of her exposed genitals.

"Please, please, please, oooooh please, she gasped, smearing her dripping lips smoothly all over my face. We were almost there as I ploughed on mercilessly. Each probing was followed by lickings then sucking and more probing. We continued for minute after minute after minute.

"Please, please, oooooh Please pleeeease" she squealed, as at last I felt her shudder then spasm as she orgasmed in a series of tremors, pulsations and judders. It was all over and she pleaded with me "no more, no more." She was now too sensitive to touch. She was completely out of breath and her uniform took on a deflated appearance as she stood up, her knees cracking. 

"Next, who are you please? And are you having a period?" bellowed Miss Wiff-Naseford to the second French Maid from across the room.

"Kate Randall, and no I am not menstruating," said the tall slim creature walking towards me. 

From floor level I could see her thin high- heel shoes click, click. clattering their way cruelly towards me. The stilettos and pointed toes looked truly dangerous as the black patent leather flashed glinting as it caught the light. Her shoes were to be avoided at all costs I thought. She stood astride my chest and looked down at me over the stiff swaying tiers of her white coarse-textured net petticoats. She had stage make- up on and looked gorgeously 'tarty'.

"What exactly do you do on stage Kate? " asked Miss Wiff-Naseford bemused by her appearance. "Oh it is a little Burlesque number called 'Bump-n-Grind'" Miss Randall said staring down at me grinning. She stuck her tongue out at me and smiled.

"Oh I don't know if I know that one, how does it go dear?" said Amelia W-N sipping her gin.

"Oh no," I thought "she's going to do some dance routine dangerously close to my genitals."

I was not wrong on this score. Kate Randall stood adjacent to my neck and twirled her feather duster and stamped her feet firmly three times then she was off. Three steps to the left, a wiggle, and three steps to the right, a wiggle, stamping her shoes all around my neck, face, upper arms and thighs. 

She wriggled, wiggled, strutted and swung her hips enthusiastically in time to some imaginary music in her head. Her movements were driving me rigid with lust. I clenched my teeth trying not to come as she swung her knickers bare thighs, fishnet stockings and petticoats above me over and over again, flicking her hips marching on the spot. Click, click click click, went her stilettos inches from my face. 

Pre-cum was clearly dribbling out of me forming a small pool on my stomach. Physically I just wanted instant masturbatory relief from all this stimulation.

"Most interesting Kate, now off with your panties and squat on our Peeping Tom."

She stood vertically over my face and lifted up the rear of her French Maid's uniform and pushed her pettipants down to below the knees and let go. Naturally they landed on my face and she stepped out of them kicking them off to one side. I was already aware of the intense smell of warm vagina. She spent no time squatting on my face and used my head to hold onto in order to support her as she brought herself off. Kate had clearly masturbated in the past as she knew how to use an object, perhaps the corner of a chair or bed knob, to help her reach her climax. I had to do very little in fact I just kept my mouth nose and chin up and she did the rest.

"I see you are skilled at making yourself 'come' Kate; a very good skill, I say when one needs to relax," "Yes Miss Wiff-Naseford I usually use a carved wooden stool at home; it's got lovely rounded knobbly corners," she explained

"Mark you Kate, Mr. 'Tom' is very good you know, he knows what to do and where to stick it; by the way Kate how are your parents? We didn't see them last year did we, at the speech day event?"

"No...errr...gasp...Miss Wiff-Naseford...ouch.... you .err...didn't...oooooh...gasp...err," gasped Kate Randall, struggling to remain composed.

Underneath her, amongst all the seething crackling white layers of white nylon net I was trying not to have my head wrenched off. My arms and legs spread-eagled about me were taking the force exerted by Miss Randall's muscular rubbings. Clearly her 'climax stool' at home must be in a poor condition, I thought, judging by the effort she was putting into it. I was wishing these two females could stop talking and let Miss Randall get on with it. I felt as if Kate's whole weight was levering me. All her petticoats thrashed around me as she built up her speed and strength as she held onto my head.

"I hope that they are not unwell, your parents I mean Kate. I knew your mother years ago..." Miss Wiff-Naseford prattled on senselessly as I felt my face being viciously abused by this ruthless nineteen year old six-footer.

"Oh my gosh, ooh my gosh, oh my, oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh my gosh. Oh my gosh...ooooh," she slowly screamed as she orgasmed over me. I tried to fight against the tethers as my penis strained painfully for relief. It was all too much; I needed to wank or I would die. 

".....and another thing Kate your mother always used to catch colds, never knew anyone quite like her...." continued the headmistress leaning back in her comfortable arm chair helping herself to more gin oblivious of the fact that I lay under the girls outspread skirt and petticoats wondering what harm had been done to me.

My young tormentor, Kate Randall pushed herself off me and wiped my mouth, nose and chin with her ruffled pettipants and put them back on, rearranging the layers of all her undergarments so that they looked neat and prim again.

"Right who's next? Ah, good, Samantha Skirving-Thorpe," said Miss W-F clearly hoping to see more action.

"Yeth Mith Wifth-Nathford," said a rather sweet lisping voice followed by now familiar clunk, clunk, and clunk of high spike-heels which appeared within my field of view. She was a real cutie. Her eyes sparkled and she had an excited 'little girly face' despite being nineteen, She was clearly well groomed and appeared vivacious, spontaneous and charming.

"Well you know what to do, pants down first Samantha,"

"Yeth Mith Wifth-Nathford," repeated the delightful blonde haired long-legged beauty, almost skipping with enthusiasm.

She stood next to me and I could see up her skirt. I stared at all the intricate overlapping tiered layers of stiff net petticoats which only slightly hid the hem of her full circle taffeta French Maid's dress which spread above me. She swiveled her hips as she stepped out of her ruffled pettipants and 'to everyone's surprise' dropped them on my face. She flicked it off me with one of her shoes and prepared herself to straddle my face. Again I was nervous of these four inch spike heeled shoes which all three of the girls were wearing.




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 11



Facing me and looking down she told me to "Shtick outh thyour tongue," which I did. "Further upth and hold it there" she ordered. 

I thought that this 'docking procedure' would have to be very precise as most of me was hidden from her gaze by her skirt and supporting petticoats which stuck out almost horizontally from her waist. She placed one shoe next to my face and swung the other one over. I now had a clear view between her legs. I kept my tongue out as her derriere slowly descended upon my face along with all the many masses of white lace and nylon which thrashed around me and over me. She squatted forward until my tongue was at the entrance to her vagina. I wiggled it about and she lowered herself so that the hard pillow beneath my head pushed my nose into her soft pubic hair.

"Geth goingth Misther Thom," she lisped sweetly as I began licking her outer lips like a big lollipop. Her fishnet stockings rubbed against me and again the felt remarkably coarse. Her vagina odour was formidably strong and it took hardly any time for her juices to flow."

"Go on Samantha, ride his face as if he was a racehorse, of you go, faster and firmer, off you go," encouraged Miss Wiff-Naseford urging her on.

I pleasured Miss Samantha Skirving-Thorpe within ten minutes of her 'mounting' my face. We started off at a 'walk', then a 'brisk trot', then a 'rising trot', then a 'canter' and finally 'galloped' to her crushing crashing orgasm. 

I lay in my usual fettered immobile position in the middle of the room with the daughter of the Honorable Mrs. Helena Clarissa Evelyn Skirving-Thorpe sprawled over me. Her legs wrapped round my neck , her petticoats, skirt, loose suspender belt and other under trappings spread out half over me and her little 'ladyship' gasping for air. My face was sloppy with her vaginal-juices and I needed a rigorous wipe down. 

"Where on earth is matron?" I wondered. The girl gradually clambered off me stabbing me three times accidentally with her spike heels, fortunately not seriously, and made her way unsteadily towards the headmistress's door

My ramrod stiff erection was still straining for relief.

"Now little 'French Maids' we are going to have further fun with Tom. You will each have two minutes to make Tom 'come' using only your pert derrieres and your little feather dusters. Kate can go first. "I will time you. Said the insane head teacher.

Kate click, click, clicked over to me and gyrated her hips flicking her petticoats from side to side under her black taffeta dress. She swiveled round and stepped over my face, this time facing my feet. She squatted down the knelt astride my chest and pushed her ruffled pettipants firmly into my nose. 

She pulled her buttock cheeks widely apart and pushed back, and released her grip so that my nose was tightly trapped amongst the nylon lace ruffles. I could hardly breathe. I was immediately assailed by her vaginal odour and my penis strained to even greater heights.

She pushed her skirt and net petticoats all around me and pulled together her stilettos so that her heels gripped me by my neck. I could not move a single inch. Suddenly I felt the light touch of the feather duster along my thighs and over my stomach. She deliberately teased me by not touching my most sensitive tip. 

Over and around she moved her duster as my penis jerked about seeking attention. Above my face her huge derriere straddled me. Her bodily odours appeared trapped amongst all the frills and lace of her flounces. Her constant wriggling assailed every fibre of my being. This heavy long-legged Kate Randall certainly knew what she was doing. I was on the brink of coming, the very brink.

"Right, time's up, next. Miss Laing please," croaked the headmistress now clearly drunk.

I watched Kate lift her delicious nylon clad buttocks off my face and stared spellbound at the way her petticoats gave her grace and poise as she swung off to the other side of the room. I was again poised for my orgasm. Two minutes may not be enough.

Susan Laing stepped over me and placed her black high heeled shoes on either side of my head facing my feet. Her knickers were clearly stained by vaginal juices. She knelt over me, straddled my chest and reversed her bottom into my face. Immediately she moved her feather duster over my genitals. I felt my penis twitch again. I felt the delicious weight of her body over my body as her petticoats swished and scratched around me, the lace hems stimulating every part of my naked body. I was holding back willing her to stimulate me more.

"Thank you Susan, now can we have Miss Skrivling-Harp next please?" Miss Wiff-Naseford slurred clearly having 'lost the plot'.

Clatter, clatter. clatter. Clatter clatter

Up popped Miss Samantha Skirving-Thorpe in a somewhat dainty trot. She shook her skirt and petticoats at me, walked over and placed her stilettos to either side of my head looking towards my desperate erection. I thought that this has got to be it. I was going to make maximum use of her two minutes to make myself come.

Samantha knelt down squatting over my face then knelt forward so her knees straddled my upper torso. She moved backwards, flipping up her skirt and petticoat and covered my head. Again I was in a white frilly lacy underskirt space where her strong vaginal odours remained trapped. I saw her fingers reach under and pull her buttock cheeks apart then ease herself into my nose and then let go so that my nose was gripped against her ruffles. I then felt her pulling her skirt down and firmly forward in order to push my face further under her and into her.

She started on me with the feather duster. Around my genitals it went tickling and tantalizing. I strained hoping that she would attack my knob end with sufficient force to make me come. I wanted to come so badly.

Then it happened. I felt the feathers sliding up and down slowly in one direction then in another direction up and down my shaft, up and down, up and down, I thought Miss W-N would interrupt. It must have been longer than two minutes, I could not tell. I relaxed and allowed Samantha Skirving-Thorpe to continue with the constant barrage of sensations.

I breathed in her vaginal scent luxuriating in the thought of having a long-legged aristocratic nineteen-year old school girl wearing a French Maid's uniform sitting on my face and trapping me with her lacy net petticoats. 

It was at that point I felt hot semen begin to rise deep down inside, well up, and spurt in seven enormous thrusts. Gobs and threaded strings were ejected across my lower chest and stomach and gather in tiny warm globules,shining,spreading. 

Samantha Louise Victoria Phoebe Skirving-Thorpe, was clearly impressed with her achievement and, looking behind her.

"Lookth Mith Wifth- Nathford I've made the 'Peeping Thom' have a 'fountain'." she said to her headmistress in her delightful little girly voice, waking her up suddenly from an alcohol induced sleep.

It had been ten long, glorious minutes since this French Maid had began wanking me. It was fortunate that Miss Wiff-Naseford had fallen asleep when she did. 

I was wondering whether Samantha knew the first thing about male anatomy, clearly not. I however felt immense relief and lay there panting beneath this huge doll-like beauty. I savoured her weight and warmth on me and perhaps, maybe perhaps, I would survive to orally pleasure the whole damn school.

(Continued in part twelve)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 12



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it. 

I had decided not to get the local police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to Peeping Toms. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and fettered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards at each corner of the room. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part twelve of my sorry tale.)

*

"Lookth Mith Wifth- Nathford I've made the 'Peeping Thom' have a big, big 'fountain' ooooh." she said to her headmistress in her delightful 'little-girly' voice, waking her up from an alcohol induced sleep.

It had been ten long, glorious minutes since this young 'French Maid' had began wanking me. It was very fortunate that Miss Wiff-Naseford had fallen asleep when she did. 

I was wondering whether Samantha knew the first thing about male anatomy, clearly not. 

*

Taking stock of the situation to date.

1.I had managed to 'orally pleasure' 43 girls. 
2.I had ejaculated four times, I think. 
3.I had had full penetration once. 
4.I had orally pleasured the headmistress, Miss Wiff-Naseford, twice. 
5.I had orally pleasured two members of her staff. 
6.I had 77 more school girls to pleasure orally as well as staff members. 
7.It was now 7 pm and I was now ever so hungry and desperate for a shower.

*

Miss Wiff-Naseford eventually rediscovered her composure and tenuous grip on reality only to realise that I was the only person left in her room. She called for her secretary, Celia, to summon Matron, or Molly as she was known to her colleagues, so that I could be cleaned up, washed and given something to eat. 

The insane headmistress, who was hell bent on following the prescribed ordinances of her predecessor, Miss Geraldine Maxine Bliss-Frampton to the letter, told me that if I were to 'pleasure her girls' (sic) as it were, she would allow them to masturbate me to a climax so long as remained 'relatively passive' and tethered to her study floor. 

I said that I would obey her, and comply with all her demands so long as I could achieve physical relief and not be made to suffer unduly. Although we did not shake hands on the matter I felt that an element of trust had developed between us.

From my point of view I could not imagine anything more stimulating than pleasuring young nineteen year old girls, particularly if they had never been pleasured before. Also from my point of view I needed to be wanked off, to put it bluntly, or else I would have found it impossible to carry on. Behind her spectacles I could just make out that our dear headmistress had agreed to my proposition.

The door opened at the far end of her office. I heard the clatter of high heels and in strode four more tall slim girls from class 2A. I peered downwards across the room and saw that they were all wearing deep red 'French Cancan dresses' and long silk black gloves.

"Come in 'Cancan girls'. I imagine that you are in the middle of your rehearsals for the Autumn Review so I will not to need to know too many details except whether any of you are having periods? Well are you?" said Miss Wiff-Naseford from her chair behind me.

"No Miss Wiff-Naseford," said the four Cancan girls in unison.

"Good, good, now Judith Dodd please step forward, thank you." 

A very lithe skittish dark-haired girl walked across the room. She wore a 'Venetian red' nylon cancan dress which extended down to mid-calf level in three gathered tiers. It was trimmed with black lace flounces at every tier and was very full and flouncy at the hem.

"What have you got on underneath those delightful clothes Judith?"

"Well Miss Wiff-Naseford I have a lovely white lacy Cancan petticoat. It is in very fine cotton and is bigger than a full circle. It has four flounced tiers. The bottom tier is double-layered and is trimmed with wide hems of Broderie Anglais and eyelet lace. Under my petticoat I am wearing a beautiful pair of white cotton bloomers which end just above my knees. These are edged in two overlapping tiers of cotton eyelet lace. Beneath my bloomers I am wearing a pair of medium-denier black seamed stockings supported by a lovely lacy cotton suspender belt." she said swaying from side to side staring at me, and at my flaccid penis. 

"OK Judith I didn't really want a list I just wanted to see what was underneath, now stand over there between the Peeping Tom's legs and lift up your skirt so that we can both see what you have on. I observe that you are also wearing little lace-up high-heeled boots. They look so coquettish and delightful. Now up with your skirt."

Judith appeared rather shy and self conscious having already outlined in great detail what was underneath, she appeared reluctant to verify that what she had described was indeed the case. She shot glances at me, then at Miss Wiff-Naseford, then at my penis which was lying in a small shriveled state in a pool of drying semen. Judith pulled her dress up at the sides to reveal her pure white starched cotton petticoat. She did not lift it however. She held her dress in such a way that it formed large gathered bunches to each side. She rolled her hips from side to side and her petticoat swayed outwards, upwards then fell back into place. Her petticoat was extremely wide at the hem where it was finished in lots of little lace trimmed flounces. She rolled her hips several times and appeared to be gaining in confidence. 

"Up with your petticoat Judith, I'm sure Mr. Tom here would wish to see what's underneath, wouldn't you Mr. Tom eh?" Miss Wiff-Naseford pushed her drunken body off her chair, reached out and roughly kicked me on my right ear.

"Ouch," I said unable to move my limbs to attend to the pain.

With a certain amount of theatrical aplomb the nineteen year old school girl lifted her Cancan dress and petticoat up to her face so that her big dark staring eyes and hair were just visible behind her hems. She smiled coyly. 

The view above me and in front of me was incredible. The underside of her petticoat was beautifully detailed; where each tier was gathered, a lace flounce had been sewn in, so that there was layer upon layer of starched white lace. Her bloomers were relatively plain except for the hems. Here again were two layers of starched cotton lace. There was a tiny damp patch in her gusset which indicated that she was perhaps feeling worked up about what was to happen next. My penis rolled to one side then started to stiffen dragging strings of drying semen with it across the base of my stomach. I noticed her looking at it, smiling curiously.

"Thank you Judith," slurred the headmistress behind me. "Now pull down your bloomers and pop your' hairy snatch' on Mr. Tom's face."

Judith appeared to understand what was required of her and pulled her dress up at the back and slid her gloved fingers into the elasticated waist band of her cotton bloomers and dragged them down to her knees and stepped out of them. She waved them around in front of me, her young face smiling seductively. 

Of course she dropped them on my face as almost every girl had done in the past. She watched my penis increase in length and girth as I smelled the trapped sweet warmth of her gusset. She whisked them away and stepped up to my upturned face. 

Following careful directions from Miss Wiff-Naseford Judith placed one of her black leather boots to one side of my face and swung the other over until she stood over me. From my fettered position I looked up her very long shapely legs beneath her skirt and petticoat to where they met in a mass of dark brown curls above me.

She raised her dress and petticoat to her waist, squatted down, legs wide apart, and positioned her vagina on my mouth and nose. Her natural scent was intense. She rearranged her dress and petticoat over me so that I was in her private darkened underskirt space. Her dress was of such a length that the headmistress could not see my head at all from her position in her armchair behind me.

"Lift your dress up girl, I want to see Tom's tongue at work," she exclaimed to Miss Dodd, somewhat directly.

With her skirt and petticoat raised to her waist I started easing apart her outer lips which were already moist and covered with beads of vaginal juices. She flinched as I pushed my tongue up inside them and wiggled it about. My nose probed her clitoral hood which was now very prominent. She pushed herself further forward as I began a continuous rhythm of firm licking and flicking. She held onto my head with one hand but had to let go of her dress and underskirt which cascaded all over me, concealing me from the drunken headmistress. 

Miss Wiff-Naseford told Judith that it didn't matter about the 'raised dress' and to 'just get on with it' as she put it crudely. 

I felt Miss Judith Dodd's nineteen year old gloved hands grip the top of my head through her skirt as she wiped her cleft up and down, up and down, up and down my tongue and nose. Her exposed inner lips left a smear of strong smelling vaginal slime over me as her rubbing became more and more intense. 

Around me white lacy petticoats moved, slid and shook. I 'caught' her stockings with the slight stubble which by now had developed during the day on my chin. Her movements were becoming more and more earnest as she rubbed herself all over my face, over and over again. She did this again and again, over and over again. Stray pubic hairs became trapped in my teeth and it was becoming noticeably stuffy and sweaty under all her layers of white cotton petticoat and red nylon Cancan dress. 

Within a few seconds she increased her tempo and I found it difficult to keep up with her, so I just pushed my tongue out and licked any part of her genitalia which happened to slide over me. Unexpectedly she suddenly stopped and pushed heavily down on me. She screamed then groaned, then groaned again, gripping me tighter, then shuddered. Her whole body shook in muscular spasms. Her thighs gripped my face and then it was all over and she fell backwards across my chest, her thighs wide open to Miss. Wiff-Nasefords ogling hawk-like gaze.

I heard the clink of a gin bottle.

Judith's boots came to rest on my outspread arms pushing my leather wrist-straps even more tighter. It really was a painful experience, particularly as she was also squashing my penis and testicles. She remained sprawled on my chest for several minutes until Miss Wiff-Naseford realised that it was time for me to pleasure her second Cancan dancer, Kathryn Heathcote. Miss Dodd crawled off me and limped her way back towards the doorway putting on her bloomers.

Kathryn Heathcote was a very attractive nineteen year old. Her hair was blonde and piled up on top with little ringlets hanging down around her ears. She had a very purposeful stride. Clunk, clunk, clunk went her boots on the study carpet as she walked up to me and hitched her Cancan dress up at the back and slid off her frilly bloomers which she dropped on my face. 

I had now got used to such rudeness. I thought that the whole of the school appeared ill-mannered in this respect. 

She placed both her boots on either side of my face, pulled up her skirt and squatted on my face. Her pubic hair was very coarse for one so blonde, I thought. Up went my tongue into her hairy orifice and she pushed herself forward and downward to ensure maximum contact and friction. I noticed that her stockings had several ladders in them near the welt at the top. She must clearly have had trouble fastening them to her suspenders.

Her thighs were soft, smooth and lickable. 

The smell from her vagina was almost overwhelming. I concluded that she had been stimulated by watching my movements under Judith Dodd's dress. We both began easing her slowly towards her orgasm. For five minutes I probed, delved and poked, then probed again, licking and sucking her clitoris which was now fully exposed. My face was sticky from her vaginal emissions. Again I experienced the swishing and swaying of petticoat layers moving around me, above me and over me. The air was humid and almost fetid as I continued driving her towards her 'ultimate pleasure'.

My erection was straining almost to boiling point. Precum was glistening from its purple end which was twitching, searching in vain in thin air for sexual relief. 

This tall girl above me opened her legs even wider and shuffled further onto me. By now I had my nose rammed firmly into her inner lips, I could hardly breathe, and began shaking my head to try and get some relief. 

The more I shook the further Miss Heathcote kept my nose inserted deeply into her vagina. I was becoming quite worried. All at once she increased the pace of her rubbings using only my nose to stimulate her clitoris. She bounced against me heavily and incessantly for, what seemed like a very long time. Up and down she bounced, backwards and forwards, up and down holding my head into her.

I actually felt physical pain in my neck as she carried on at a quick pace. Within seconds she screamed loudly, her orgasm hitting her in waves, her thighs shaking involuntarily. 

"OOW, oh, oh, oh," the nineteen year old moaned as her orgasm subsided. 

She held me to her and only released me when she was totally calm and collected. I emerged breathlessly from under her petticoat to the sound of the headteacher shouting across the room.

"Next please, oh yes it's Christine Forrester isn't it. Well Miss Forrester I trust you have not smuggled anymore...err...dildos into school as you did last year? Seven wasn't it I confiscated from you?" 

"Yes Miss Wiff-Naseford," she said sheepishly looking quite ashamed.

"Well Christine you have 'Mr. Peeping Tom' here to pleasure you today, down with your drawers dear, and be quick."

"Yes Miss Wiff-Naseford." Christine said looking at me while sliding her black gloved hands up the sides of her dress into the tops of her cotton lace-trimmed bloomers which she dragged down to her knees and then stepped out of them tossing them onto my face. 

Again I felt intensely insulted by her callousness. I thought that 'Finishing Schools' were supposed to teach young ladies manners. She walked up to me towering over me then kicked her bloomers to one side. She placed one Cancan boot next to my right cheek and the other next to my left and shuffled them inwards so my head was firmly gripped like a vice. 

Above me I saw layer upon layer of white petticoat lace, all almost within touching distance of my outstretched tongue. She swayed her hips slowly above me and I heard the delightful swishing sounds of skirt and petticoat layers brushing against each other.

I was aware that this young lady was used to masturbating herself, probably vigorously and often and was fearful with what she was going to do to my face. My excitement and fear must have shown in my eyes. It also showed in my penis which again began to emerge from a pool of drying semen and pre-cum. My face smelled quite badly of vagina secretions from Miss Heathcote but there was nothing I could do about it.

"Come on now Miss Forrester, make a start please," said Miss. Wiff-Naseford from her 'ring-side' seat behind me.

Christine Forrester spread her knees and lowered herself on to me in one movement. She shook her red dress and white petticoat all about her so that my face was again hidden from view. I heard the scratchy nylon sounds of her stockings sliding under her petticoat as she rearranged the various undergarments above me. The atmosphere under her dress was punctuated by the strong odour emanating from the moist lips of her drooling vagina. 

My tongue gently probed her labial portals and wriggled its way up and in. She moaned as I found her clitoris. This appeared to act like a trigger because all of a sudden she began forcefully to rub the nub of her clitoris over and over me instinctively seeking out and concentrating on every minor protuberance of my face, in particular my nose She was all over me, attacking my nose from every angle with her clitoris. There was an animal-like fervor gripping her. Her hips and pelvis swung over me quickly in large circular movements punctuated by fierce jerking movements designed to maximise the sexual sensations of her genitals against my face.

Above me came an almost violent incessant rustling of petticoats. Her moaning increased as did her juices. My face became a repository for her vaginal spendings and sexual secretions. I felt that I was slowly drowning. Her groans were turning to sighs, and her sighs to gasps. Then, without warning, she froze above me and I sensed an enormous build up of sexual energy well inside her. It was an eerie silence before the storm.

Suddenly she squeezed me intensely with her thighs as her muscles spasmed. Through her clothes I heard her swear and curse loudly as I felt my head almost being wrenched off, her physical reactions being so strong. Everything around me was shaking in time to her orgasmic shuddering. Amongst the rhythmical gasping and moaning sounds coming from this girl I made out Miss Wiff-Naseford shouting out words of encouragement to Miss Forrester.

"Go on girl, that's it, keep it going," she ordered, above the swishing of underwear around me. 

"Keep it going Christine," she yelled in a deranged manner. 

Christine clearly needed no additional encouragement as she appeared to be well on the way towards another orgasm. Under her dress my face felt trapped in a whirlwind of stockings, suspenders, damp thighs, pubic hair and petticoats. Her thighs threshed around madly, scraping her scratchy smooth stockings against my stubbly cheeks. 

My nostrils were filling with sexual-secretions and I had to snort loudly to breathe between frottaging. Her smooth firm buttocks slid over me as she continued wiping her vaginal lips all over my face.

I had little strength left and my wrists and ankles felt sore through having to cushion Miss Forrester's fervent movements. 

My erect penis had somehow become buried amongst her dress hem and petticoat and I was aware of precum escaping onto anything it touched. Again I became conscious of another orgasm building up inside the energetic nineteen year old above me. Again she slowed down her movements waiting for her shuddering to take over and, again she came in great vocal waves.

"That's it girl," encouraged Miss Wiff-Naseford staring wildly at the movements under the Cancan dress. "Go on again, again," she shouted getting out of her chair, almost tripping on her empty gin bottle. 

My head and face were being used as a giant dildo, being forced roughly against her dripping opening as she gripped me and forced my nose and tongue into her again and again. The smell and heat was so intense that I thought I would pass out. On and on she went groaning and moaning, on and on.

"Another one, go on girl!, another one, that's it," shrieked the headmistress almost baying for blood. 

I was so tired that I could not fight back and allowed this nineteen year old schoolgirl, dressed in a calf-length Cancan dress to use my head as an object upon which to bring herself off again and again. Her groaning and moaning turned to animal-like grunts as she orgasmed again over me. It was as if my disembodied head was being tossed about in a stormy sea.

I had initially feared that someone who owned dseven dildos would have a voracious sexual appetite and I was correct. Why had no one warned me of this Christine Forrester?




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 12



"Enough. Enough," shouted Miss Wiff-Naseford clearly at last seeing that my head was being used almost like a rugby-ball in a loose-scrum under the girls dress and that I was suffering from severe stress.

"Off you get Miss Forrester, now please," she told the girl in an abrupt voice.

She reluctantly let go of me and stood up. The light was intense as I emerged from the darkness under her red dress. Fresh cool air hit me and I gasped in exhaustion lying back, my face completely covered in her vaginal juices and smelling strongly of female genitalia. I was desperate for some rest and still did not know what had happened to matron and her soothing flannels. I licked my lips but all I could taste was drying vaginal slime. My mouth was very dry. My penis was taking a rest too and reverted back to its flaccid state.

"Now it's Victoria Gregory isn't it?" Amelia Wiff-Naseford said to another tall, very slim, willowy girl walking towards me.

'Kerlunk, kerlunk, kerlunk' went her black lace-up ankle length boots as she stood to one side of me looking somewhat disgusted at the sorry sticky mess I was in.

"...and how are your parents Victoria? I remember your father told me that you were hoping to join him in his family business," continued the headmistress clearly emerging from her drunkenness.

"Yes, that's right Miss Wiff-Naseford," said the young lady pulling up her skirt at the back. "He has openings for junior accountants and now that I have finished my training I shall be joining him shortly," she remarked, pulling down her white cotton lacy bloomers to her knees.

"Well I am very pleased that things are going your way," said Miss Wiff-Naseford watching the six-foot one-inch nineteen year old stepping out of her warm knickers.

"My sister is already working with him as a senior auditor," she said placing her feet on either side of my face. I stared up at her black pubic hair, just visible amongst the whiteness of her petticoat which was framed by her naked thighs above her stockings.

"Really Victoria and it does not seem that long ago since she left our school." Miss Gregory pulled her skirt and petticoat up to her waist and squatted slowly on top of me so that her vagina rested firmly on my nose and mouth.

"She must have achieved very good grades in her accountancy exams then?" continued Miss Wiff-Naseford as I began easing apart the nineteen year olds lips with insistent movements with my tongue. 

"Yes she was 'best' in her year," the girl continued as she dropped her Cancan petticoats over my face, followed by her dark red dress which instantly plunged me into darkness and muffled silence.

"Well I remember her being very good at deportment and pronunciation," the headmistress continued as I stimulated the girl's moist cleft with searching probing, delving and long licks and flicks concentrating on her clitoral hood. 

Above me the tall nineteen year old was clearly reacting to my incessant tonguing.

"...and also she was clever at cooking. I shall always remember when she and Angela Fenton prepared a Sunday lunch for the governors...," the head teacher whittled on apparently oblivious of my fervent activities beneath the Cancan schoolgirls costume.

Above me slimy sexual lubrication flowed slowly onto my face, into my mouth and over my nose. The enclosed atmosphere beneath her dress was full of the warm fragrance of female secretions. I was drawn towards the now familiar sweet scent again and nuzzled and probed her until she opened herself completely to me. I stared, in the gloom, at perhaps the fleshiest vaginal opening I had ever seen. 

Her lips protruded towards me, almost sucking me in. I buried my nose up to my nostrils inside her lips, luxuriating in the very core of her femininity. She in turn rubbed herself enthusiastically up and down my face and my nose felt lost amongst the many folds of her labia. The continuous swishing sounds of petticoats against the inner surface of her Cancan dress drove me slowly wild with intense pleasure.

My erect penis again probed the air friutlessly for sexual release, jerking occasionally; pre-cum again was forming on my exposed glans.

"......If I remember your sister and Angela prepared a very good fresh tomato soup with basil and coriander, followed by..." Miss Wiff-Naseford was interrupted by Victoria Gregory pushing herself onwards towards gratification.

"Yes, yes, yes yes," she whimpered noticeably speeding up her pelvic thrusts against me.

"....And Victoria I think your sister served a very good roast loin of pork with apple and pear sauce. Most enjoyable. I remember the Reverend Selby asking for second helpings....."

"Ooh, grunt, ooh, grunt, ooh grunt," continued the girl above me evidently taking little heed of her headmistress's ramblings and twittering.

Her skirts and petticoats were flying over me know. The tempo had been increased to an almost violent pace. Once again I felt that my facial features were merely protuberances upon which this nineteen year old, long legged creature in her Cancan petticoats was going to bring herself off. The pace suddenly quickened, I heard her gasp, gasp again then shudder, while pulling my face further into her. She came in a juddering spasm which lasted many seconds.

My face was totally and completely bathed in her female juices. My hair was sticky with her slimy secretions, even my ears seemed to be full of her vaginal spendings. She held my head tightly like a vice against her, using her thighs to prevent me from moving, while gently calming herself down, slowly recovering from her pleasure. 

I, on the other hand, was fighting for breath and fresh clean air. I jerked my head wildly, snorted and tried to shout but my mouth was blocked by her engorged lips and pubic hair. The more I struggled the tighter she held me.

The headmistress had fallen asleep.

Just as I thought that I would drown in the young-woman's juices she stood up and walked away. I felt completely drained and sexually frustrated. My penis returned to its flaccid state once again having been denied its orgasm.

One of the Cancan dancers clunked her way over to the headmistress and poked her in the ribs. Immediately she awoke and looked around the room, unsure whether all four of the dancers had been 'pleasured' or not. She appeared to be counting on her fingers and gave a quick furtive look at me and smiled to herself and clapped loudly for attention.

"Now then 'Cancan girls' Mr. Peeping Tom here is in need of a damn good' wanking', now which one of you is best at 'tossing off'?" she asked in language which appeared totally out of place in a Girls' Finishing School.

The girls whispered to themselves and giggled. One of them raised her hand.

"I am Miss," said Christine Forrester.

I could have guessed so for she once owned seven dildos. 

"Well Miss Forrester, good, good, now make him come, go on use your imagination girl, and the rest of you use some imagination as well, we haven't got all day. Now get on with it," said Miss Wiff-Naseford looking at the forlorn heap in front of her strapped down to her floor.

I was a very miserable sight indeed. My sweaty body ached and I stank strongly of vagina. My hair was sticky and lank. My face felt very sore and my neck was incredibly stiff. Between my outspread legs my penis lay in a small sad dried pool of semen and precum. I was also badly in need of a shave. 

Whatever the girls had to offer me I did not think I had the physical strength to have an orgasm but certainly needed one for sure in order to release all of my frustrations.

The familiar clunk, clunk, clunk of four pairs of high-heeled ankle boots heralded the approach of the nineteen year old Cancan dancers. They stood around my head looking down at my face and body. From my floor level view point these six-footers appeared like amazons and once again I felt very vulnerable. 

Christine Forrester stood between my parted legs and squatted down. I watched her and she stared back. She looked cheekily at me and had a fresh complexion compared with my disheveled appearance. I felt her gloved hand run circles around my stomach and thighs; she gently massaged the inside of my legs where my scrotal sac was attached to my groin. Within seconds my penis began to stiffen. 

She continued further with her gloved caressing. Over and over again she made circles around my genitals but did not actually touch them. 

The other three Cancan dancers squatted down on their heels around me and gloved hands began caressing my neck and chest from all angles. I felt one of them, behind me, shuffle forward, placing her boots against the top of my head. Above me I could see her outspread knees supported her dress and cotton lace petticoat which she draped over my head so that I could not see. 

With both hands she dragged her skirt and petticoat across my face, backwards and forwards creating a swishing scratching sound as her lace rubbed against my stubbled face. Backwards and forwards went her petticoat across my face, backwards and forwards.

Christine continued with her light tantalizing caresses around my now fully erect penis. Once again the focus of my sexual being was jerkingly searching in vain for relief. 

Then, I felt her touch my exposed tip. Once, twice then three times she touched it teasing it then continued with massaging my thighs, again steering clear of my manhood. 

Someone began licking my left nipple and moaning girlish groans. I could not hear clearly because of the swish, swishing sounds of petticoat lace over me. I felt another mouth on my right nipple sucking and teasing, licking the hairs on my chest. 

Between my legs I felt hot breath and the flick of a rough tongue on my glans. A gloved hand cupped my testicles while another held the base of my penis. The nipple licking and sucking continued which was becoming almost excruciatingly unbearable. I cringed with pleasure and tried to push them away but gloved hands held me firmly down.

I felt the tongue again moving over the sensitive head of my straining penis, it moved up and down in long deliberate upward movements and little flicks near the edge and around my foreskin. A hand joined the tongue and together they began sliding and slurping up and down my hard shaft. 

For several long intensely stimulating minutes this continued. The sounds of lace passing over my mouth, nose and chin and the exquisite agony of having my nipples sucked and licked by two of the girls took me to the very brink of pleasure. I held myself back as my erection was now being vigorously pumped by Christine Forrester's clearly expert fingers. Her pumping was amazing. How did someone so young know just what to do? I was in a dreamworld of intense pleasure.

By now Christine was also enthusiastically sucking the tip of my erection allowing it to push against her lips on every upstroke. I bucked my pelvis up and down trying to push myself in between but she pulled away. She kept up her teasing, pulling away every time I tried to enter her girlish mouth. I pushed again and again but she denied me entrance. Her pumping continued, up and down, up and down with her silk glove. 

All I could feel were her moist lips on my glans as she continued pumping. Her licking continued and I held back, and held back further, my teeth were clenched as I held myself back. 

Then she sucked me into her in one movement and I felt myself inside her smooth warm mouth. Almost immediately I felt seminal fluid rise inside as me as I jerked five hot spurts of warm semen into her beautiful young face. It was all over and I felt drained once again. 

My testicles were empty and 'milked dry', or so it seemed. Flat on my back I stared up at the ceiling gasping uncontrollably as the Cancan dancers slowly stood up and shook their dresses down. 

Judith Dodd touched my face gently with her boot and asked if I was alright. I smiled back at her staring upher petticoat under her dress and told her I needed a shower and something to eat. She told me that it was almost time for their evening meal. 

Miss Wiff-Naseford became surprisingly anxious and animated as she observed the hour. "Goodness me girls, is that the time?" she loudly exclaimed, "Quickly now, off you go to the refectory." 

The clunk, clunk sound of heels and the quick whispering and backward glances towards me, were the last I heard or saw of the four Cancan dancers as they sped off to their 8.00 pm dinner.

"Just you and I left Tom," said Miss Wiff-Naseford still suffering the effects of several gins and tonic. "What a day Tom, what a day!!"

She pushed her drunken body off her chair and staggered unsteadily towards me. I was aware that she might trip or fall and in my trapped position tethered to the floor I was in no position to catch her. 

She stood next to me, slowly swaying, and reached up behind her and pulled up her long tweed pleated skirt. I heard the smooth scratchy swish sound of pink nylon panties sliding over dark nylon stockings as she pulled down her knickers and stepped out of them. 

Once more she placed one shoe on one side of my face and uneasily and inelegantly positioned her other shoe on the other. She hitched up her skirt and lowered herself onto me, almost stumbling as she did so, steadying herself by holding onto my temples. 

There in front of me was her now familiar slimy vagina awaiting my tongue. She pulled her skirt and nylon underslip over me as far as they would go and told me to begin licking her between her legs. I began delving and probing her but it did not last long as she keeled over to one side and promptly fell asleep, spread-eagled on top of me. 

I was overtaken by a feeling of complete horror as I thought that I might remain there until she woke up, which could be for several hours. I was desperate to use the loo and also needed a shower and something to eat. Miss Wiff-Nasefords shoe dug into my face and, as much as I tried, I could not dislodge it. We lay like that for some time until I heard a soft knock on the door. 

I yelled out, "Come-in," and in walked Matron, this time dressed smartly for dinner in a charcoal grey plaid pleated skirt and blue cardigan and matching blouse.

"Oh Amelia what's happened?" she asked the now snoring headmistress.

I explained to her about the gin and Matron helped her, then me to our feet. I was led away to the staff shower room and left there to clean myself off. Meanwhile Matron helped Miss Wiff-Naseford into the dining refectory where everyone was waiting. From the shower I could hear the clatter of knives and forks and hubbub of conversation and judged that the large echoing dining refectory could not be very far way.

I finished drying myself and Matron reappeared with an electric razor and my clothes which she had found in Miss Wiff-Naseford's study. It was again a case of 'Matron to the rescue.' 

She told me that I was expected at the high table and that they had reserved a meal for me. 

I was beginning to once again enjoy being the resident 'Peeping Tom' at Dentwood School and wondered whether I would eventually spend the night with twenty 'French tennis-players' in their dormitory that night. 

Who knows what would happen next.

(Continued in part thirteen)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 13



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it. 

I had decided not to get the local police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to 'Peeping Toms'. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and tethered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards at each corner of the room. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part thirteen of my sorry tale.)

*

I finished drying myself and Molly, the Matron who had befriended me, reappeared with a ladies electric razor, and also my clothes which she had found tucked away in Miss Wiff-Naseford's study. It was a case of 'Matron to the rescue' yet again, thank goodness. 

She told me that I was expected in the dining hall and that they had reserved a meal for me that night. 

Now fully dressed, well shaved, and hair neatly combed, I followed Molly into the dining refectory where the other members of staff awaited me at the 'high table', which was on a raised dais at the far end of the dining hall.

As I walked in I noticed that the girls had finished their main course. I saw several of them look up as I walked past the dozen or so tables where they were sitting and talking to each other waiting for their plates to be cleared. They were now all wearing their school uniforms except for the four Cancan dancers who sat with their backs to me. 

I recognised some of the faces. Maria Kingsland smiled at me, so too did Nicole Barbier and Victoria Gregory. The others, I had seen earlier, looked me up and down somewhat surprised to see me in clothes for the first time. I probably appeared very small and puny to them but I did not mind as I had had an incredibly exhausting and enjoyable day and, to be honest, I did not mind being 'Mr. Resident Peeping Tom'.

I sat next to Celia, the school secretary, at the very end of the high-table facing the girls, but noticed that Miss Wiff-Naseford was nowhere to be seen. She had been 'taken ill', apparently, and would be eating her meal much later. The room was full of the sounds of conversation and girlish laughter. 

A young waitress served me with an appetizing plate of pesto pasta and salad. I even had a glass of cool white wine to drink with it. I looked at the waitress as she walked away, her hips moving seductively beneath her tight skirt, and it occurred to me that Miss Wiff-Naseford had told me that I had to orally satisfy the ' entire school staff' which, if I recalled correctly, included catering staff as well. I looked at her curvaceous legs and imagined my face between them licking her vagina lips, breathing in her odour. 

The meal was delicious. I talked to Celia about her secretarial duties in the school and she mentioned how the school attracted girls from all over the country, and from abroad, because it was unique. She told me that very tall girls, from all countries had problems relating to boys of their own age and had other, less obvious, problems regarding men. 

Celia looked about 45 to 50 years old. She was of average height and build and had wavy dark brown hair parted to one side held back with a hair slide. She had prominent teeth and full lips. Her speech mannerisms were somewhat haughty and spoke to me as if she had a plum in her mouth. She wore dark framed spectacles and pearls over her black polo neck sweater. 

She considered that most of the eighteen and nineteen year olds probably had never had 'boy friends' because there were so few boys of equivalent height. As we talked I noticed that she was looking at me in a strange, almost expressionless manner. Her glasses were perched on the end of her nose and she peered at me, over them, with half closed eyes. She kept looking down at my lap.

Under the table I also became aware that she was gradually moving her leg closer to mine until they were both touching under the table cloth. I felt the smooth scratchiness of her nylon stocking against my leg, which was splayed towards her in order to avoid an awkwardly positioned table leg. I couldn't move my leg, even if I wanted to.

She began describing the school and its features, carelessly, almost casually, rubbing her knee over mine in slow but deliberate movements. I felt an erection begin to well up. She showed no emotion in her face, or any indication as to what she was up to under the long deep tablecloth which shielded her advances from the girls' tables in front of us.

With both elbows on the tablecloth she told me that she actually lived in the school, and had a small modest flat, and had never married because of the War. She continued rubbing her knee against my thigh and feigned a coughing fit in order to inch her chair slightly closer so that she could touch my arm. 

I drank some more wine and then placed my hands on my lap. A minute followed and she cautiously looked about her and put her hand on top of mine. Her hand felt sweaty. She toyed with her fork and looked at me furtively.

"Where do most of the girls end up working?" I asked trying to sound as normal as possible. "I suppose model agencies would be interested in taking some of them on?" I said, again trying to sound as light and unphased as possible.

I felt her hand make small circles on my hand then move towards, but not actually touch, my stiffest part. I was aware that my trouser front had become a tent.

"Yes, quite a few of them do, especially the French contingent," she said staring at be blankly.

The girls were now being served their pudding course, which looked like blackberry crumble and custard from my vantage point. From where I was sitting it was easy to see which girls had most of their height in their bodies rather than their legs. Several stood out whom I recognised; the others, I assumed, would be 'introduced' to me in due course.

"..And some end up as secretaries or wives to Middle Eastern businessmen, particularly the blonde headed ones," she continued fingering my zip fastener.

I held my stomach in, and looked around at the 120 or so girls in front of me, 47 of whom I had 'pleasured' orally. Celia observed that she could now ease my zip fastener downwards. She 'accidentally', but deliberately, dropped her linen serviette on the floor next to me so that she could quickly use both hands to ease my zip down. I gripped my waist band to help her. We resumed our conversation staring casually at each other and other members of staff. I felt flushed and flustered.

Miss Richardson, who sat to the other side of Celia, engaged her in conversation on various procedures centred on school mail. I sat watching the girls over the top of my glass which had been refilled by one of the waitresses. As I did so, Celia dropped her hand onto my thigh and I felt her palm massage my knee, then slide along the inside of my trousers to rest near my opened zipper. I looked at the young waitress's arse.

Her conversation continued effortlessly as she removed her hand in order to drink some wine and emphasize some point that she was making to Miss Richardson. She replaced her hand casually on my lap, this time slipping it into my trouser fly. It remained there unmoving against my penis which was now tightly restrained, urgently waiting to be touched, inside my underpants.

"Well Angela," she continued to Miss Richardson, "We have to encourage the girls not to read their letters in the corridor as it can get quite crowded when the post arrives."

On saying these words she gently ran her finger nails up and down my erection which by now was pushing my underpants out of my fly by several inches. I moaned inwardly as she continued her slow clawing along my shaft, sometimes squeezing the very tip but returning to my lower penis and balls sac. I must have had a glazed look of contentment as she scratched and squeezed me gently but firmly over and over again.

As she carried on her conversation she gripped me harder whenever she replied 'yes' or 'no' to Angela's questions. Angela had been plying her with questions about individual girls, reading from a list which required either yes or no answers. The constant squeezing and scratching from Celia's fingers were making me feel oddly dizzy and I was getting occasional quizzical looks from some of the girls because of my strange facial expressions. 

Before I gave the game away by lolling out my docile tongue in cross-eyed satisfaction, our puddings arrived and she withdrew her hand, just in time I thought as I was close to coming. As we finished our dessert course she whispered in my ear, "Garden Flat, first floor at the back." She winked at me and smiled and stood up. 

I stared at her swaying rounded backside encased in a black pleated knee-length polyester skirt as she walked towards the door. I imagined my head trapped between her ample thighs.

Miss Wiff-Naseford was still nowhere to be seen. Matron, to whom I was just about to speak, had also left the room and as a bell sounded for 'end of dinner' all the girls stood up and slowly vacated the dining hall. It was now about 9.30pm and it was very dark outside. The glow from the dull ceiling lights gave everything a yellowish hue, and my skin appeared pallid. I stepped off the dais and made my way towards the door.

Some French girls from class 2A, in their high heels, clattered their way towards me and asked if I had enjoyed the meal in their remarkably poor English, but delightful French accents.

I replied that 'I had enjoyed the meal very much' and saw that they had noticed my erection pushing its way through my trouser fly front. Clearly my condition was obvious for all to see and I felt embarrassed and inhibited. I had forgotten to refasten my flies.

In desperation I attempted to zip myself up but without warning two of them held my hands and gripped them tightly, as if we were long lost friends. 

"Well, Mr. Tom, it is time for you to visit us for sex in our dormitory," said one of them.

I recognised her as Danielle Lalonde, the one who spoke almost perfect English. On hearing the words 'visit us for sex' my heart jumped a beat then beat faster pumping blood into my penis which had now pushed it's way through the fly flap in my underpants and into the open air. My purple swollen head contrasted starkly against the whiteness of my underwear.

I must have appeared as a truly 'real' pervert.

Here I was, standing amongst four or five very tall slim nineteen year old French girls', with a 'raging hard-on', which I was unable to conceal, and in some respects, was proud to show it off, as it was clearly massive by anyone's standards. 

"Come on Mr. Tom it is time we did sexy things to you, "purred Miss Lalonde leading the way along the echoing corridor. My two captors let go of my hands and sped off running with Danielle sprinted off to join them.

In front of me Marianne Martineau strode purposefully, swinging her hips, swaying her knee-length pleated skirt from side to side as we passed door after door. We were walking very quickly and her heels made noisy clattering sounds on the wooden floor as we progressed further. I found it difficult to keep up with her. 

In the distance I saw a wide staircase.

"Nous avons attrapé un piaulement-tom et nous le portons à notre grande chambre à coucher pour le tra-la-la de sexe," sang Mademoiselle Martineau, deliberately rolling her wide buttocks from side to side so that I could see flashes of her lacy petticoat hem.

I understood from her lyrics that 'she had caught a 'Peeping Tom' and was taking him to the big bedroom for sex, tra-la-la'. Was this another traditional French song? I wondered to myself. Surely not?

I didn't know whether they had remembered what I had told them earlier about not being a real 'Peeping Tom' but at that moment I could not care. I had no cares in the world. At least I was not going to be strapped down by the 'mad harridan' who called herself the headmistress. 

At least also, I thought, I would be free to use my hands for self relief, and on young French breasts, and hopefully be lying on a soft bed rather than on a hard floor. 

We ascended the staircase in leaps and bounds. My erection hindered my progress as I watched the remaining girl overtake us. My eyes were riveted to Mademoiselle Martineau's backside. 

At the first landing the temptation to touch her pear-shaped arse proved too much. I reached out and groped her magnificent bottom with both hands. It felt delicious. 

Immediately she stopped dead and stood still, legs slightly apart in mid-stride. 

I thought she was going to slap my face but instead she looked at me, smiled and winked, then pushed out her wiggling bottom, allowing me to put my hand under her skirt hem.

Instantly it was inside her nylon petticoat squeezing and caressed her buttocks through her slippery shiny panties. I cupped my hands under, and between her knicker crotch, feeling her warm vagina. I ran my middle finger firmly along her cleft.

She turned instantly on her long legs, reached down and kissed me full on the lips.

Within a second her tongue was in my mouth, attacking mine like a wildcat. She probed savagely and sucked and delved. I explored her mouth with mine. I wanted to say something but her kissing stopped me. I was not prepared for such ardour from one so young, tall and beautiful. She had clearly lost control and was venting all her pent up sexual frustrations on me.

I felt her cool hands grab, then grip, my exposed penis which jutted clumsily into her clothing. 

She instinctively started to 'milk me' with rapid strong firm jerks, whispering "Dirty boy," at every pull, "Dirty boy," she hissed and pulled. "Dirty boy," she said between kisses. "Dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty..." she continued in time with her wanking. I was completely at her mercy, totally spellbound by her body warmth, odour and her cool fingers holding me. 

She flicked her long hair out of her eyes then resumed her passionate tonguing.

"Dirty (pull) dirty (pull) dirty (pull) dirty boy," she sang at me over and over again, slowly driving me delirious with her incessant masturbation, and sexy French accent.  

My hands gripped her buttocks under her knickers seeking her anus, spreading her cheeks widely, trying to stimulate her, but she slipped away. 

"Dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, boy," she groaned at me over again as we kissed with her tongue half way down my throat with her hand tugging furiously at my manhood. I was being thrown around the staircase by her savage kissing and wanking. I thought that I would 'cum-in-buckets' there and then. 

Above me from the staircase the other girls shouted down to us to hurry up. 

She squeezed my penis a final time, spat in my face, turned, and then clattered up the creaking old wooden staircase to the third floor attic dormitory I followed her staring wildly at her buttocks and swaying skirt and wondering what I might find at the top of the stairs. 

My hands were still warm from holding her. I walked up dizzily and hastily, catching my breath, my heart beating faster and, trying not to bruise my ungainly protruding erection against the stair balustrade or any other projection.

At the entrance to the attic room there was a big wooden door with the words 'Dormitory Four, Class 2A, Private, Keep Out' written on it. I was not sure why this had been written, or for whom it was intended, or whether it included me.

"Clearly not," I muttered to myself as I took in the layout of the room. It was a vast long space which must have spanned the roof of the whole of the South Wing of the school. The room had a lowish angled ceiling which had several dormer windows along it and many shelves and cupboards built into it. Fitted wardrobes extended from one end to the other. On either side of a long central walkway twenty 'double-beds' were positioned in two lines, ten on each side.

"Why 'double beds'?" I wondered.

It now dawned on me that, because the girls were so tall, they clearly could not lie on normal sized single beds and must sleep, therefore, diagonally across the bed from corner to corner. I looked up and down the room, and walked to the centre and stood with my exposed erection awaiting attention. Two of them, Isabelle Lamarliere and Madeleine Saint-Pierre, took me to a bed towards the far end of the room and told me to sit down.

I did as they said and watched Madeleine kneel before me and untie my shoe laces and take off my shoes. My erection was just inches from her face as she slipped off my socks. It jerked about with little involuntary movements, frantically seeking entrance to her soft French smiling mouth.

Teasingly she pouted then licked her red lips and turned her flashing eyes on me beneath her long lashes. She blew on my exposed glans and stuck her tongue out and wiggled it about tantalisingly, smiling at me.

"Vous avez un beau pénis raide," she said to me. 

I guessed she was complimenting me on the stiffness of my penis. I told her that she had nice eyes and that 'I wished to fuck her so hard that she would be unable to sit down for two weeks'. She smiled back at me, clearly not understanding a single word I had said to her.

Isabelle, in the meantime, had pulled up my sweater and was easing it over my head.

She kissed me and whispered "Je veux votre langue a l'interieur de ma bouche."

I stared back and nodded while she grabbed me by both cheeks and forced her tongue savagely into my mouth, almost attacking it. Her breath was hot and came out in little gasps. I put my arms around her and held her. We collapsed onto the double bed with Isabelle on top of me and continued our kissing while she continued unbuttoned my shirt. My hands were all over her breasts under her grey v-neck sweater. She tried to take it off and unbutton me at the same time, but she was having problems. We kept kissing and snogging with our hands exploring each other everywhere. 

While I was kissing Isabelle, Madeleine had loosened and tugged open the waistband of my trousers and was unzipping my flies when I felt a third pair of hands pulling at the front of my underpants. At the foot of the bed I felt my trousers being dragged off; I pushed my buttocks off the bed whilst young hands eased off my trousers, followed by my underpants. Again I was completely naked. 

I felt wafts of cool air against my exposed legs, feet and genitals as several girls rushed about. I couldn't exactly see what was happening in the room as Isabelle's fervent kissing, with her long hair draped over me, concealed all other activity from view. I appeared to be lying on a large soft duvet with my head half buried in its deep feather-filled pockets.

Isabelle suddenly pushed herself off the bed, removed her shoes, and swung her long legs over me then straddled my waist, her smooth stockings brushing against my naked skin. Various conversations were going on around me but I couldn't understand much of what was being said. 

Isabelle eased herself forward so that she now straddled my chest with her skirt hems touching my chin. I stared up at her bosom bouncing about inside her school uniform. She pushed herself down on me, making the mattress rock up and down. She did this several times as if to attract my attention.

She looked down at me and mouthed, "Me pensez-vous suis-vous sexy? Voulez-vous me baiser?" I replied that 'I did think she was sexy and did want to kiss her' whereupon she pulled off her sweater and threw it onto the adjacent bed.




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 13



I looked about me and noticed that many of the bedside reading lights had been switched on and the main ceiling lights had been turned off. The dormitory took on an intimate, warmer, almost cosy appearance. 

Several girls were in the bathroom at the end of the room. I could just make out some cubicle doors. Some girls were working at their desks while others were reading or chatting. Some had taken their skirts off and were hanging them up in wardrobes. They were walking around in their petticoats. Only Isabelle Lamarliere, Madeleine Saint-Pierre and Veronique Abati appeared to be interested in me. The promised 'feeding frenzy' of 'sexy things' seemed to have fizzled out, or rather never started in the first place.

"Voulez-vous me baisser?" said Isabelle asking me to kiss her as she pushed down on me, making the bed bounce again. She shifted forwards and sat on my upper chest with her legs apart and her knees under her, and I now realised that she wanted me to kiss her between the legs. 

"Sous mon jupe d'écolière," she said to make sure I understood. 'Under her schoolskirt' appeared to be my destination. I looked up into her delightful smiling dark-brown eyes.

I smiled and said in my perfect French,"Oui." 

She immediately lifted up her tartan pleats and white nylon petticoat and held them to her waist. She slid her buttocks further over me and sat squarely on my face so that my nose was pushed firmly into the front of her white nylon lacy knickers. 

Once again the familiar sweet, strong stale, smell of warm vagina mixed with urine filled my nostrils and my erection grew. Only my hair and forehead could be seen between her thighs; her knees and shins pushed down on my shoulders and gripped me with her weight. 

With both hands free I now reached under her skirt and petticoat and caressed her buttocks, through her silky slippery panties. I felt the firm rounded flesh and the weight of her above me. I felt enveloped by the beautiful young tall girl's fragrant femininity which engulfed me and stimulated all my senses. 

I breathed in her female odours, nuzzling my nose further into her panty crotch, pulling her more firmly against me. My right hand moved down to my erection and I began to wank slowly. Still holding up her clothes she gazed into my eyes feeling my tongue probing her perineum.

She dropped her white lacy petticoat over my head, and spread it out neatly so that my face was entirely concealed from view. She shook her pleated heavy tartan schoolskirt evenly over me, making sure that it, in turn, hid her petticoat. She pushed her slip and tartan pleats out behind her so that it formed a half circle, partly covering my chest.

I was became aware that we must have made an extremely lewd sight with just my naked lower torso exposed, with my penis lying flat against my stomach, ramrod stiff, twitching towards her skirt hem spread over my chest.

I remained under her skirt for many minutes breathing in her odours and becoming intoxicated by them. She in turn remained in place, happy to be sitting on my face with her skirt spread over me. I sensed that she could feel my hot breath between her legs. Now and then she would caress my face through her skirt, feeling the sikiness of her petticoat rubbing my forehead and hair. From time to time she talked to someone in French and I could only just make out the replies in the muffled darkness between her legs. 

The bottom of the double bed moved as I felt one, then another, girl sit down heavily. I could feel stockinged knees touching my lower legs and hands opening my legs further so that they were stretched widely across the duvet. Cool fingers caressed my inner thighs and fingernails lightly scratched my testicles and the base of my erection. I reached down to masturbate but my hand was pushed firmly aside and held, so I resumed fondling Isabelle's rounded nylon-clad buttocks. I decided that I was in no hurry to attain an orgasm although I had been on the very brink of one since I had finished my evening meal.

I felt my penis being yanked up into the vertical position. Another girl seemed to be standing next to Isabelle. All I could make out was that she sounded pleased and laughed. Two hands then appeared under Isabelle's skirt and pushed a warm pair of knickers over my head. The hands disappeared and her skirt and petticoat were rearranged over me.

The bed creaked and bounced and I sensed that someone had stepped onto it. I felt stockinged feet and then knees against my upper thigh and the roughness of a pleated skirt hem grazing my very sensitive exposed glans. 

Cool hands grabbed my erection and held it in a vertical position against coarse pubic hair. I felt my penis head being manipulated against something warm, damp and fleshy.

The bed rocked as I realised that someone was lowering herself onto me. I slid firmly up her until my entire shaft was warmly inside her and gripped by firm young vaginal muscles. I moved my hands downwards and felt nyloned legs. They were splayed towards me sitting behind Isabelle. Whoever she was, she must have been highly aroused as I had slid into her effortlessly. 

I caressed her taut suspender fastenings, her smooth stockings and her cool thighs. My hands felt her pubic hairs where they met mine. 

I bucked around until we gradually built up a comfortable, easy slow pace, as I felt her deliberately contract her vagina while I slid in and out. With every up-thrust she pushed down on me, and with every down stroke she eased off. Up and down I slid, in and out, over and over again, in long relaxing strokes. She moaned and told me to keep doing it to her, in her very poor English. She told me not to stop.  "Veuillez ne pas s'arrêter...oooh Mon Dieu..... ce que c'est...ooh, allez vite... que vous faites à moi," she repeated in her native tongue.

I lapped incessantly at Isabelle's damp panties, tasting the bitter-sweet saltiness of her stinking crotch. I slid my nose into her as far as her knickers would allow, my breathing becoming more rapid as I inhaled her heady aroma. I felt that I had almost been 'absorbed into' these healthy young females pleasuring themselves upon me.

The bed began to rock more and more, as we quickened the pace. I was anxious to 'come' and wanted to waste no more time. I felt my unknown partner increase her pace, then increase it some more as our combined movements became more ferocious. Isabelle groaned, and then moaned as I nosed and tongued her more and more violently through her knickers. I clutched both her buttock cheeks, pulling her wildly into me as I slid my face up and down her sopping wet gusset, willing her to attain her orgasm. 

Over and over again, we continued as I bucked and strained, matching my thrusting, nuzzling and jerking with those of 'Miss. Unknown'. The three of us rapidly increased our frenzied movements each groaning and muttering expletives. 

The bed was now visibly jerking around with the intensity of our combined savagery. 'Mademoiselle Unknown' panted noisily; Mademoiselle Lamarliere grunted above me, then more loudly, ever louder and quicker, until she screamed out her fluid orgasm all over my face. I kept up with the fervent intensity of my mysterious partner until we reached a crescendo of wild thrashing movements. We were like wild animals grunting and thrusting.

"Oui, oui, oui, ooh, oui, oui," she uttered between groaning, gasping and jerking her pelvis.

"Mon Dieu, ah, oooh, ceci est delicieux!" she gasped out, "Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, OUI, OUI, OUI," she sighed. 

I felt semen rise up inside me, then suddenly erupt into her, in a dozen powerful energetic thrusts. I felt her vaginal muscles quiver, then go into a vigorous spasm as she orgasmed within a second of mine. "Oui, oui,oui," she whispered shaking uncontrollably from head to foot as spasm after spasm animated her, and rippled through her, draining her.

I lay there tired and exhausted, with sweat glistening on my legs and forehead. My face was damp from Isabelle Lamarliere's sexual secretions and with the airless stuffiness from breathing under her thick tartan skirt and nylon slip. Gradually my 'secret-sexual-partner' eased herself off me and I felt the bed creak and sway as she stepped off it. Isabelle Lamarliere pulled up her skirt and petticoat and stared down smiling wickedly. She told me I had a comfortable face to sit on but that it was someone else's turn now.

"Votre visage est très confortable pour que je se repose sur mais il est quelqu'un d'autre tour maintenant," I heard her say and with that she got off me. 

In the low lamplight I could make out a dozen half dressed girls, sitting, grinning on adjacent beds watching us with fascination. 

Before I could gather what was happening next, another pair of legs appeared in front of me and a black-stockinged knee was swung over my face as another girl sat on my upper chest pinning me down. I examined the new nineteen year old above me just before she inched forward and spread her ivory coloured petticoat and tartan pleats over me and plunged me once more into darkness. 

On top of me was Veronique Abati, the 'tennis girl' who had urinated in my mouth in front of Miss Wiff-Naseford. She was not wearing her sweaty tennis knickers but a pair of ivory lace-trimmed panties which smelled strongly of urine and very little else. I had no choice but to endure her pervading fetid aroma and breathe in her dampness. 

My penis felt sore following the 'servicing' of my still unknown partner. I lay there under Verinique for fifteen to twenty minutes breathing in her fragrance, gently recovering from my exhaustive ejaculation. I listened to the sounds of muffled, incomprehensible, faraway conversation from the room. I gathered that some girls were undressing for bed. 

Reluctantly, but determinedly, my penis rose to it's maximum extension, while I nuzzled Miss Abati's sodden panty-covered cleft, until it was fully erect and lay along the mid-line of my stomach searching for attention. The bed shifted up and down as I became aware that several new girls were sitting at the foot of the bed.  I felt, immediately, cool hands explore my genitals.

From what I could gather at least two girls were running their sharp finger nails along my thighs and erect shaft. I moved my hands to my balls to confirm my suspicions but they were swiftly pushed to one side as the 'milking' began. I felt that I had nothing inside me to release, as the incessant and enthusiastic wanking commenced. 

Veronique's knickers gradually took on a different smell, this time a mixture of urine and vaginal secretion. I sniffed her pubic hair where it emerged as tufts on each side of her gusset, and they were very fine and soft to touch. I licked them, and nosed her, as she jerked down on me, smothering me with her stinking damp knickers. 

I could hear girlish conversation and giggling. I felt someone take my right hand and jam it between her legs. Someone new was kneeling on the bed. I ran my hand up her smooth leg and into her panties and began fingering her. Her loose French-knickers were slippery and silky to the touch and I eased my fingers under her gusset and into her pubic hair.  

Soon she was wet and I slipped my middle finger, then my index finger, inside her, wiggled them around, feeling her warmth under her skirt. 

Meanwhile the pumping and milking continued. Four hands were clawing, squeezing, gripping and scratching my penis, testicles and inner thighs. My sensitive exposed clans were massaged and squeezed over and over again. 

All the nerve endings on my body seemed suddenly to be highly sensitised and receptive to stimulation, and appeared to be focused on one place, my penis. I thrust my pelvis up and down, attempting to maximise every slight touch from the girls' cool hands, as their milking progressed. 

I was in need of a bloody good wanking, truth be known.

My fingers felt sticky with vaginal spendings as I delved, probed and stimulated the young woman kneeling next to me on the bed.

Sharp nails dug into by balls-sac as the milking continued. Over and over again cool hands milked me. Long pulls were followed by short pulls. My penis was rolled between hands, twisted and pulled, scratched and tweaked. Over and over, and on and on, it continued. I moaned with exquisite pleasure licking the now transparent knickers in front of me. The smell of Veronique's vagina was overwhelming. Below my naked waist the frantic and frenzied milking continued. The merciless clawing, squeezing and rubbing was taking me ever closer to the point of no return.

I had three fingers inside the mystery girl on my right. I felt her hand grip my fingers then move them up and down at her pace inside her. 

The bed shook as we carried on. 

The milking suddenly increased in speed and intensity. I felt semen rise up inside me like an express train, I clenched my teeth, shut my eyes, rammed my face into Miss Abati's knickers and shouted 'ooah...yes' then spurted, then spurted more, then spurted again, then spurted again. 

It was all over and I lay back breathless, exhausted and relaxed. I shut my eyes and heard Veronique say something to me which I did not quite make out. She lifted her skirt and underslip off me and repeated it. 

"C'est maintenant onze heures et ce sera des 'lumières-dehors 'sous peu. Vous pouvez rester avec nous pour la nuit mais vous devez choisir avec qui vous dormirez," she said.

This time I understood her to say that it would be lights-out shortly and that I could stay there with them but had to choose with whom I would sleep.

For a red blooded, although small and puny, English male to be asked to select which nineteen year old French long legged schoolgirl 'model' to sleep with was like offering a starving mongrel a juicy sirloin steak. There must have been a more suitable parody but I was too tired to think of one.

Clearly it was going to be a difficult choice.

(Continued in part fourteen)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 14



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it. 

I had decided not to get the local police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to 'Peeping Toms'. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and tethered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards at each corner of the room. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part fourteen of my sorry tale.)

*

In their dormitory I lay motionless with my head under Veronique's pleated tartan school skirt, exhausted and relaxed. I shut my eyes and heard her say something to me which I did not quite make out. She lifted up her skirt and underslip and repeated it.  

"C'est maintenant onze heures et ce sera des 'lumières-dehors 'sous peu. Vous pouvez rester avec nous pour la nuit mais vous devez choisir avec qui vous dormirez," she said.

This time I understood her to say that it would be lights-out shortly and that I could stay there with them but I had to choose with whom I would sleep.

I surveyed the room and was greeted my many smiling faces. Many of the girls by now were wearing pyjamas and nightdresses. I felt slightly miffed that I had not witnessed them undressing, but I suppose I could not complain, as I had seen them all naked in the changing room earlier. The showering session seemed like a long time ago.

I looked around the room and they all appeared breathtakingly inviting and enticing, but, emerging from the bathroom, I saw a tall black-haired girl displaying angular features and a prominent aquiline nose. 

She stood in the doorway where her white knee-length nylon nightdress, with the light from the bathroom shining behind it, appeared almost transparent. She strode like a 'cat-walk' model towards me, her hips swiveling at every step. She had an austere, aristocratic, almost animal expression which was emphasised by her unplucked dark eyebrows and high cheek bones.

"Est-ce que Louise, vous souhaitez dormir avec M. Peeping-Tom, et avez le sexe avec lui ce soir?" enquired Veronique to Louise Bazaine, asking her if she wished me to sleep and have sex with her that night. 

Her face remained expressionless but replied that she would like me only for sex, but showed little enthusiasm. She looked me up and down in a casual, almost off-hand, way. She glowered at me and walked to her part of the room.

A few minutes later a bell sounded announcing 'lights out' and I followed 'the model' to her bed near the door. She pulled back the crisp cotton duvet and slid in. I joined her but was aware that she was taking up most of the bed. Our cool limbs touched. 

Throughout the dormitory the bedside lights were switched off, one by one, until the entire room was plunged into darkness except for one small light shining in the bathroom at the far end of the long attic room. Louise smelled of perfumed soap and toothpaste. I lay next to her listening to her breathing. In the gloom I could see her eyes staring at me, flashing, waiting for me to make a move. 

Within seconds I was on top of her and we were kissing, our mouths locked, with our tongues wildly delving and exploring. I ran my hands over her body and tugged her nightdress up to her waist. She pushed her pelvis up so that I could ease the slippery nylon up to her breasts. We continued kissing while I fondled her upper legs, thighs and stomach. I avoided touching her between her legs but teased her, scratching her inner thighs, but stopping just short of her waiting vagina. 

From the next bed, I noticed a pair of eyes watching us. In the half light I saw someone get up, run over and whisper something to Louise. 

She said "Oui,"under her breath, between kisses, and the bed creaked behind me as someone else got in. Immediately I felt cool hard nipples on my back and long slender fingers gripping my now fully erect penis. A long leg was draped around my waist. 

The girl, who had joined us in the bed, knew exactly how to stimulate male anatomy because within minutes she was wanking me at high speed, judging mysteriously that I was aroused enough to attain an orgasm. My kissing increased in pace. Louise groaned as I pushed two, then three fingers inside her dripping labia and wiggled them slimily about.

She attempted to say something to me, through our kissing, but it came out as gibberish. She moaned, swore at me, and then pulled me back into her face. Our kissing increased in rapidity with my fingers stimulated her clitoris, almost to 'crisis' point. One hand held my head as she forced her tongue brutally down the back of my throat.

Once again it appeared that both these girls were venting their pent up sexual frustrations on me, a mere 'Peeping Tom' in their eyes. I was again in a kind of 'French schoolgirl' paradise, savouring every sound, touch and smell from these gangling beauties lying to each side of me under the huge king-size quilt. 

I continued with my fingering of Louise's now slimy labia and readied myself to enter her but this was to be denied. Out of the blue I felt the red hot sensation of seminal fluid gathering inside me, and welling up. Immediately I emptied myself in seven vigorous thrusts all over 'the model's' thighs, pubic hair and stomach. She groaned and swore at me, with the realisation that I had not penetrated her. The visitor in our bed began to lick my ears and continued wanking me, clearly intent on making me stiff once more.

I lay on my back with Louise curled up against me to one side, my fingers still stimulating her. The stranger, whom I could now make out to be Eloise Larocque, lay against me on the other side. I spread my legs and continued to finger Louise. She reluctantly pushed me away and told me, breathlessly, in French, that she was too sensitive and was unable to achieve an orgasm. She swore again. 

Easing my arms around their shoulders I pulled them towards me. In the darkness I listened to both of them breathing against my neck. Eloise's curly hair lay across my chest as I nudged her playfully with my chin. I felt tiny flicks of Louise's eyelashes tickling my cheek and her hair spread across my neck and chest. Two hands caressed my stomach and cupped my balls. Two pairs of legs were spread over mine, trapping them, squeezing them and easing them apart. 

Cool hands began masturbating me once more and in the darkness my penis stirred again. They both licked my hardened nipples which had become ultra sensitive to their attentions. I stroked their shoulders and backs, straining to move my hands under them to stroke their buttocks. The weight of their bodies proved too much for me so I concentrated my caresses on their hair and necks.

Eloise turned her face towards me and we began kissing, first gently and tenderly, then intensely and ferociously. I was aware that Louise had slipped further down the bed and was now applying kisses to my stomach and thighs. My erect penis twitched wildly seeking her mouth and it took no time at all before she began licking my shaft. First she nibbled it as if she were savouring sweet corn, then she sucked the end as if it were a lollipop. By degrees I could feel myself getting ready to 'come'. She sucked me into her warm mouth and groaned.

Slowly I felt my strength gather for my next climax. After ten solid minutes of incessant wanking, with the two of them taking turns with their hands and mouths, I felt seminal fluid 'well up' again. A sudden urgent intensity gripped me as pumped my penis in and out of Louise's mouth. It seemed as if these feelings would last forever until I felt another orgasm rise inside me, and it was all over in five powerful thrusts. I filled her mouth with warm slimy semen and once again lay back exhausted.

Eloise ceased kissing me and allowed me to get my breath back. I lay there panting in the gloom with my hand on Louise's head, holding her firmly by her hair until she had licked every last globule off my penis and scrotum. 

I had evidently reached the end of the line as far as orgasms and masturbation was concerned. Every ounce of sexual strength had been drained from me and I craved sleep, long refreshing sleep. It was clear however that the 'night was still young' as far as these long legged beauties were concerned and it took little time before Eloise moved up the bed and swung a leg over my head, so that my face was pushed firmly into her derriere. 

She remained sitting on my face with my nose rammed against her anus which smelled unpleasantly fetid and sweaty. She pulled her buttock cheeks apart, pushed down then released them so that my nostrils were pinched. I struggled for breath and was forced to breathe through my mouth which was now filled with pubic hair. She was facing my feet with her full weight on my mouth and nose. I struggled again to breathe and tried to push her off, but I was hopelessly embedded between her legs. I was now at her beck and call.

" Léchez-moi entre mes jambes lèchent ma 'chatte'," she hissed ordering me to lick her between her legs and on her 'pussy'.

I could do nothing but obey if I was going to be allowed to breathe. Meanwhile Louise once again was exploring my genitals with her tongue. My penis remained flaccid despite the urgency in her administrations. I was utterly and completely empty of semen. My testicles felt painfully dry and all my body needed was sleep, because goodness only knows what was going to happen the following day. I remembered that tomorrow would be a Saturday.

I fell asleep despite the nudging from Eloise above me, and Louise's tonguing on my flaccid appendage. Nothing could have disturbed my slumber as I drifted off unaware of the prodding and poking inflicted on me by the still rampant and energetic nineteen-year olds. 

*

Saturday

*

The next morning I was awakened very early by low sunlight streaming in through the east-facing dormer windows. It must have been roughly five o'clock or so. No one seemed to be awake, and next to me I felt the heavy breath of the two sleeping girls, their faces and long hair in my neck and over my chest. 

My penis had become rock hard again, and I stretched and rubbed it sensuously against their outstretched knees where their legs lay across mine. I unhooked my right arm from Louise and reached down and began to masturbate. I hoped that they would awaken and join me, but they appeared to be sleeping very deeply. 

As I looked around the room, I noticed that Sophie Amyot had stirred from her slumber, and was smiling at me, and waving me over to join her. Gingerly, and with great stealth, I disengaged my other arm from under Eloise's head and slid upwards, this time trying not to awaken them. I managed to extract most of my lean and puny body from between them when Louise groaned and placed her sleeping hand heavily on my genitals.

I stopped dead and waited. There was no further activity so I lifted her fingers off me, one by one, feeling the deadweight of her hand and eased myself out, and off the bed. I tiptoed quietly to Sophie's bed where her arms and lips greeted me eagerly as I slipped in beside her under her large feather duvet. 

Immediately her tongue was halfway down my throat and my hands were up inside her pink floral nightdress which smelled of talcum powder and scent. We said nothing as we savagely kissed each other more and more ferociously. We were like two feral animals locked in combat. 

She shut her eyes as we rolled about on the bed, me on top, then her on top, writhing and twisting, seeking more and more pleasure from each others mouths.

My hands, which now gripped her buttocks, pulled her closer to me so that neither of us could breathe easily. Her breath came out in small gulps and little gasps; she was clearly out of control and totally uninhibited. I felt her between her legs and her dampness confirmed that she was ready for 'sexy things' as they had described it earlier.

I told her that she was sexy and beautiful and she smiled and savagely kissed me further.

I slipped one finger, then another, into her vulva, and slid down the bed so that my face was buried between her legs. She centred herself in the middle of the mattress and spread her legs fully. I set up a slow pace savouring her clitoral area with my tongue. I breathed in her vaginal perfume and pushed and pulled my fingers inside her increasing the speed. This continued for several minutes until I could hear little muffled 'mews' from her, as she tried in vain to remain silent. She looked down at me, with her mouth open; her furrowed brow indicated that she was expecting more. 

She smiled at me and there was urgency in her expression.

My fingers were slimy and sticky as I pulled them out and eased myself upwards replacing them with my erection. Slowly I slid into her, feeling her grip me with her young vaginal muscles. My penis felt red hot inside her. Gradually we built a slow, easy pace and I felt full of energy from my restful few hours as I slid in and out of her, kissing her and licking her ears, neck and breasts and staring into her big dark brown eyes. 

She moaned and groaned, holding her breath and gasping, then moaned again. For what seemed like ten minutes we continued jerking on toward our orgasms. We attempted to keep quiet but this proved impossible. Soon the bed was swaying and creaking, and Sophie moaned loudly. I put my hand over her mouth but she pushed it away. Again she moaned, this time in lots of little moans and gasps.

"Oh, oh, zut, zut, zut, oh, oh , ah, ah," she cried out to her classmates in adjacent beds.

On and on, we jerked and bucked, as all around us girls in nightdresses gathered to watch us making love together. Soon most of the dormitory was awake while we continued with our fervent fucking. We continued on and on for many minutes. My buttocks jerked wildly as I eventually reached the point of no return. I clenched my teeth, shut my eyes, shuddered and released a vast volume of semen into her. I grunted vociferously as thick spurts of 'cum' entered her and flooded her vagina.

I eased out of her, and collapsed onto her heaving breasts, looking into her smiling eyes.

Without warning I was dragged off to another double bed where some scarves and belts had been crudely fastened together had been secured to the four corners.

Several girls, in their white lacy cotton nightdresses, forcefully held me, and tied me down on my back so that my head lay near the foot of the bed. The ties were tightened so that I could hardly move. Panic overcame me, now that I realised that I was completely at their mercy with neither Matron, nor the headmistress, at hand to oversee the 'proceedings', whatever these might prove to be. 

A girl stood behind me, with her back to me, and lifted up her floral pink nightdress and sat full on my face so that my nose became embedded in her pubic hair. She rearranged her nightdress over me so that I was concealed from view from my chest upwards. Almost immediately another girl began wanking me, starting at a snail's pace, then furiously pulling and tugging on my penis. Other hands stroked my legs and stomach. Above me I looked up to see a pair of firm nipples jutting outwards creating a 'nightdress tent' above her smooth flat stomach. 

She vigorously began to wipe her vaginal opening over my face in intense jerks and long rocking movements. The musky sweet female smell of her strong sexual secretions filled by nostrils as I licked and probed her with my tongue. The bed shook from side to side and all around me I could hear the sounds of French voices, talking and giggling. 

I could just about make out shadowy movements of the other girls through the semi-transparent nightdress, as they walked past the windows of the attic dormitory. Above me her breasts began bouncing up and down and jiggling from side to side as she slowly, but surely, approached her climax.

"Oh mon Dieu ceci est si érotique, si sexy," she squealed as she spasmed, shuddered and orgasmed over my slime-soaked face. She was pushed off me, and I could see that it was Lysette Pelletier whom I had just pleasured. I noticed also that it was Yvette Duchesne who was now busy frantically milking me. 

Another pair of legs appeared over my upturned face, up came a pale blue nylon nightdress and another derriere was firmly lowered onto my mouth and nose. The nightdress was then rearranged quickly and neatly around and over me.

The bronze thighs and coarse black pubic hair made me think that it was Paulette Auclair who was sitting on my face. Her vagina had a strong fetid, almost putrid, rustic smell. She clearly had a strong natural odour which she didn't disguise with perfumed deodorants. 

She slid her labia over my nose, first in slow smooth movements then in long fierce movements, using it as a masturbatory aid. Soon I was bathed in her juices which covered my face and began to gather in my eye sockets and mouth. 

Her sliding movements gave way to more aggressive pelvic jerking as she pushed herself onwards for what seemed like ten minutes of incessant masturbation. My body ached as she forced herself down on me over and over again. I felt that my face was being used as a dildo, just a sexual aid, and that this girl was determined that she would achieve her slow and powerful orgasm. From deep inside her I felt her climax welling up. Then I felt her shudder, then shake violently as she orgasmed on me, and over me.

I was on the brink of 'coming' when the wanking suddenly stopped. It was now Yvette Duchesne who stepped down the bed and straddled my face with her slender thighs. Almost instantly she was grinding her vagina into my face. Under her ivory nylon lacy nightdress I watched her breasts move in time with her thrusting and sliding. Her pubic hair became trapped in my teeth as I attempted to lick her clitoris but her writhing was too energetic and I pushed out my tongue and licked anything which slid over me. 

"Oh, OH, OH, ceci est si plaisant, n'arrêtez pas, this is so pleasant, do not stop," she continued, spitting out the words, while I spat out pubic hair. 

Around me, her thighs thrashed and gripped my face. Her bouncing reached fever pitch as, above me, the sea of lacy nylon was tossing her tits from side to side. Her breath was coming out in little gasps as the bed jolted about noisily. Someone had resumed wanking me and, fortunately, I felt that the rhythm was the perfect speed and strength to make me 'come'. 

In less than five wonderful minutes I spurted out the entire contents of my testicles while Miss Duchesne continued rocking on me and spasmed viciously on my face. The air was full of the scent of sex and the atmosphere was electric. It must have been around six o'clock in the morning and I already felt I had been in the school for a week and not just a mere day.

Another girl lifted her pale green gingham nightdress and swung her legs over my face. I think it was Angelique Brongniart.

"Ouff," I told her, " Not so heavy with those buttocks," I pleaded. It was unheeded as she planted her arse crack directly over my nose, pulled her cheeks apart and released them trapping my nostrils and leaving me to fight for air. 

She was sweaty between her legs as she clearly must have only just woken up. She was quite rough with me as she bounced up and down on my face. I stared up Angelique's delicious nightdress captivated by the delightful movements of her pert nipples bouncing about under the loose material. She swore loudly as she 'came' on my face. 




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 14



Again another pair of legs, this time inside a white lace trimmed nightdress, stepped over me and I savoured another mouthful of pubic hair. Whoever it was, reached her orgasm quickly. 

Then another pair of thighs inside a pink gingham nightdress stepped over me and I tongued her to an orgasm. My testicles and penis were clawed, scratched, hand wanked, sucked and licked while I continued pleasuring the girls one by one.

One set of thighs got off me to be replaced by another set of thighs. Nightdresses were pulled up and lowered and pulled up and lowered. There were white ones, baby pink ones, lemon yellow ones, pale blue ones, green ones, stripy, floral and gingham ones, frilly, flouncy, tiered, ruffled and lacy ones. 

I orgasmed again, then again as the dripping vaginas were rubbed over my face over and over again. On and on it went for two long hours.

By the time I had finished I had pleasured Veronique, Sophie, Paulette, Nicole, Louise, Angelique, Nadia, Martine, Yvette, Danielle, the two Isabelles, Eloise, Marianne, Lysette, Jacqueline, Madeleine and Charlotte. I did not orally pleasure Denise as she was menstruating.

I emerged from under Charlotte's nightdress and noticed that most of the girls had dressed for breakfast which, on Saturday, was apparently at nine o'clock. I waited for them to untie me but it wasn't to be. With a swirl of pleated tartan skirts and a clatter of high heeled shoes they rushed out leaving Madeleine and Charlotte to get dressed.

When they had finished they said that they would return with some food.

*

The Cleaners

*

I lay there in the half light of unopened curtains, and heard the scuffling of feet slowly trudging up the stairs and enter the dormitory carrying things, heavy things. There were at least two of them as I could hear them talking and muttering about the mess the girls had left. They plugged in a vacuum cleaner and began hoovering the carpet. They shouted above the noise, and when they saw me they stopped and walked over. 

There were two cleaners probably in their late 40s or early 50s with their greying hair tucked into their scarves which were tied in a bow on top of their heads. They looked like traditional English charwomen or 'Mrs. Mops', and wore aprons over their loose-fitting flowery button-up dresses. It was difficult to see their legs from my fettered position naked on the bed. I could see that they were both fairly 'large ladies' and had massive bottoms.

"Oh my Gawd come and look at this Sally," said the first one putting down her bucket.

"You're in a sorry state, young man, what have they been doing to ya?" 

I explained to them that I had been 'tied up and had been made to lick all the French nineteen year old schoolgirls between their legs until they all attained an orgasm, and could they please release me'. 

They replied that they couldn't do that, and besides it would be very improper for a naked man to be seen at the breakfast table. I told them that I would do anything if they would please just release me. They looked at my penis now lying in a flaccid state in a small pool of semen.

"It looks as if they have been wanking you young man, it can't be that unpleasant for you?" said the older one touching my stomach with her rubber gloves. 

To my horror my penis twitched involuntarily, and I peered down to see it slowly roll to one side until it lay rock-hard and ramrod-straight against my stomach. 

"Shut the door Elsie and bolt it," said Sally almost licking her lips, as she stared down at my erection. "You say that you licked these young ladies between their legs; did you my lad," said Sally almost reeling with expectancy at what was about to happen.

Elsie coughed loudly and laughed at the question.

"I'd like to see my Wilfred lick me between my legs...If I asked him to do that, he'd run a bloody mile," she said taking off her apron and grinning.

"Well the young lad here isn't going anywhere is he?" Sally smiled at me as she unbuttoned her pinafore apron and threw it to one side.

"What do they do these French tarts? Do they sit on you then? and you lick them underneath on their fannies?" she said taking off her shoes. 

Elsie took off her shoes and then unbuttoned and loosened the lower part of her dress.

"They sit on my face, and bounce up and down on my nose, and sometimes it hurts a great deal," I said, trying to put them off by appealing to their gentler nature.

It was too late however as on one side of me Elsie had pulled up her skirt and cream nylon petticoat and was stepping out of her voluminous drawers, and on the other side of me Sally was doing the same. Their arses unfortunately looked huge, curvaceous and very heavy. 

There was a strong odour of cleaning fluid and cheap body spray coming from their clothing. My penis twitched again as I viewed their large bottoms. 

Sally dragged off her large baggy nylon knickers and made a point of draping them over my face. The stench from them was horrendous. They were horribly stained and were old and filthy. Elsie called her a 'mucky cow' for wearing them. Sally replied that she wore them all week and she would have her weekly bath that night and put a fresh pair on. 

I looked up at them and wondered what was waiting for me under their dresses. In panic I tried to free myself but the scarves and belts proved too tight.

The bed heaved, as Elsie helped Sally get her thick stockinged legs onto the bed. She straddled me facing my genitals placing one foot and then the other on each side of my face. I stared up in sheer terror at her large legs and pendulous buttocks. She pulled up her skirt and petticoat and kneeled over me; her thick wrinkled stockings were laddered and smelled of toilets. Above me, glistening within a nest of tight pubic hair lay her vagina. She dropped her dress and petticoat, and she shook them down so that my face and upper chest was completely concealed from Elsie. Slowly but surely she lowered her flabby arse cheeks onto my face and her blubbery fleshy labia onto my mouth. I could not move a muscle. Her flesh completely engulfed me and I found that I was fighting for breath. 

I nudged her in the anus with my nose but this made her spread her legs even wider so that my mouth was full of stinking pubic hair. I saw her sphincter twitch as she released a loud fart. Just when I thought I would pass out she began slowly rubbing herself backwards and forwards over my nose and mouth.

"Tongue out sonny," she said which I could only just hear through the two layers of clothing which hid me from view. Her flesh smelled like fish as she dragged her damp cunt lips backwards and forwards across my tongue, nose and chin.

"Lovely, lovely," she gurgled in a sort of rural Cockney accent. "Get it up further, Lad,"

I pushed my tongue out further as she concentrated her sliding and wiping to maximise pressure on her clitoris. Once she had located my chin she began jerking and grinding in earnest. As her buttocks brushed over me I gasped for breath at every opportunity. My breathing, and her jerking, increased in speed until everything became a heaving blurred mass of petticoat, suspenders and pubic hair, around me, under her dress. My face seemed to be in the centre of wobbling, jittering, frenzied storm.

My neck felt that it could not withstand the constant pounding and jerking. She started swearing and cursing. This time the language was very 'down to earth' compared with the French students. 

Sally was clearly near the finishing line. The bed appeared to be jolting and banging on the floor as she attempted to squeeze every ounce of friction from my face against her clitoris. On and on it went until I thought the bed would collapse with her weight and physical violence of her orgasm. I felt her well up inside as her buttock muscles clenched over me then she juddered, shuddered, farted, and screamed out a gigantic orgasm and flooded my face with secretions. I lay back thankful I had survived and noticed that my penis had been dribbling with precum.

What would happen next?

(Continued in part Fifteen) 



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 15



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it. 

I had decided not to get the local police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to 'Peeping Toms'. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and tethered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards at each corner of the room. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part fifteen of my sorry tale.)

*

The Cleaners

*

I lay back, thankful that I had survived Sally's horrendous orgasm, but noticed that my penis had been dribbling with precum. Clearly I had derived some sort of pleasure from this awful experience. Her heavy arse still lay over me, trapping my face under her. I was covered in sweat, and sexual secretions which had oozed all over me.

I yelled out and told her that I couldn't breathe, but she just sat on me panting. I kicked my feet about and moved my hands against the make-shift bonds which held my limbs tightly to the four corners of the double bed. I thought my time was up, and that on my gravestone someone would carve the words 'David Eric Shaw 1940-1960, suffocated under a cleaning-lady's arse'. 

Elsie realised that I was suffering and pulled Sally off me. As I emerged from under her dirty skirt and underslip I gasped and groaned and shook my face and spat out her pubic hair. My face was sticky with her natural lubrication. Elsie eyed me up and down and pulled herself up heavily on to the bed. She looked frighteningly large and her bottom was massive and substantially more rounded than Sally's.

"This won't take me long, laddy," she said as she hitched up her washed-out flowery skirt and torn lace-trimmed petticoat and walked around, on the bed, unsteadily above me. 

She placed one heavy stockinged foot on one side of my head and swung the other one over me allowing me a clear view up her skirt of her vaginal opening. The mattress depressed noticeably as she swayed around and steadied herself, finally squatting on me, holding onto my head. She dropped her skirt and petticoat over me so that again my upper body was concealed from view. 

There was a sickening 'squelching' sound as her protruding fleshy flaps landed squarely on my face. The smell and dampness was intense and ghastly. Her coarse hands grabbed my head as she began slowly wiping her dripping cunt up and down my face. She concentrated most of her efforts into sliding my nose into, and out of, her opening; I was at her complete mercy and my struggles to escape prove futile.

Up and down, she slid over me as I tried to breathe through her pubic hair. My face gradually became completely covered in vaginal slime which had a strong intense smell to it. Up and down, up and down she slid over me as if she was using my nose to rinse her labia. 

My penis became rock hard again. I was desperate to masturbate but clearly couldn't because of my ties. Above me she continued pleasuring herself, taking her time, savouring every contour of my face under her glistening pussy. Her lips protruded more and more and I felt her outer lips on my cheeks, as my nostrils were dragged through her hot cleft over and over again. 

My penis extended even further and it felt as if it was twice as long as normal. I ached for relief.

"Tongue up my fanny, lad," she croaked, her words muffled by her cotton skirt and cheap undergarments. 

I stuck my tongue out as she continued wiping herself up and down my face. I felt disgusted and at the same time excited at having this middle-aged woman, reeking of urine, vagina, disinfectant and cheap scent sliding her gruesome genitalia backwards and forwards across my face within the restricted confines of her skirt and petticoat. 

At close quarters her stockings appeared wrinkled and laddered. Clearly these were her oldest nylons and they both felt smooth and scratchy as they were dragged rhythmically against my cheeks. She was pleasuring herself in her work clothes. She gripped my head, through her skirt, and began groaning and then began violently jerking. 

It was now very hot and sweaty under her nylon slip. Her labia hung down beneath her pubic hair and passed rapidly over my upturned face, over and over and over again. It was horrible yet exciting. My penis had almost turned itself inside out seeking relief. Over and over again she continued jerking, slapping and sliding. My head felt like a rugby ball in a loose scrum. 

Her fleshy folds sucked me in, as she kept up her incessant activity clearly seeking to bring herself off on my slippery face. By now I could sense that her climax was close at hand. Her jerking was replaced by short vicious energetic rubbings with my nose and her clitoris in close connection. I felt my head would be yanked off my body and willed her to complete her masturbation before I passed out. She grunted above me and cursed.

"Oih, oih, oh, ah, lovely, ahh, oh, oh," she continued, clearly on the brink. 

Then it came. She pushed herself down hard over me, froze, then her thighs quivered, her body shook, shuddered, juddered, and spasmed and out gushed more vagina juice until her screams announced her orgasm was over. Sweat poured off me and I genuinely felt I was drowning. She lay back on top of me exposing her genitalia and outspread legs. The view was quite awful and I cannot even bare to describe it. I struggled under her telling her to get off me so that I could breathe and get some sort of sensation back into my penis and testicles which were trapped beneath her.

Eventually both cleaning women decided I needed a break. They untied me from the scarves and belts and I hot-footed it to the bathroom. I peed enthusiastically and felt as if I was part of the real world and not a mere sexual toy, or contoured male play doll, upon which females could obtain their orgasms. 

I washed my face and hair, scraping off the accumulation of slime and secretions which stuck to my lips, nose and chin. Once again I felt human. I toweled myself dry. The cleaners finished off their vacuum cleaning and changed the bedding throughout the dormitory. They were insistent that I be retied to the four corners of the bed as they explained that they were not supposed to interfere with any of the girls' personal belongings. Apparently now I was reclassified as one of their 'personal belongings'; I felt sub-human and a mere plaything yet again. 

*

Sexy Things with the French girls

*

When the cleaners left, I was left alone for about fifteen minutes when I heard a surge of activity in the stairwell. Twenty French schoolgirls were running up the stairs. I was aware that this Saturday morning was very dark and overcast and that rain threatened.

They burst into the dormitory and several made a dash for the lavatories. Several others surrounded my bed and one, I think it was Eloise Larocque, had some breakfast in a paper napkin. They untied my hands and allowed me to eat. Another girl had brought me up some lukewarm tea which I drank avidly, and when I had finished they tied me tightly down on the double bed so that I could not move a muscle. Someone readjusted all the ties so I was spread-eagled more tightly than ever I was on Miss Wiff-Naseford's floor. I could only just raise my head.

The dormitory was dark, even though it was only about half past ten, as the rain lashed down outside. Various girls switched their reading lights on by their beds and sat or knelt, reading or writing letters. I could only stare at the ceiling. The continental quilt had been placed on the chair beside me and I lay flat on my back naked listening to the sounds surrounding me.

Danielle Lalonde, the nineteen year old, who spoke almost perfect English, explained that on Saturday they were expected to catch up on their school work, write letters home or indulge in their hobbies. She told me that several of them were interested in biology and wanted to study 'the male penis' in more detail. 

My face went cold and at the same time my penis rolled to one side and began slowly growing in length and girth. I was immediately surrounded by five of the girls, Lysette, Eloise, Marianne, Yvette and Nicole. They appeared so young, tall and slim in comparison with the scruffy old cleaners. 

Danielle told them that I had agreed that they could study me. To be honest I had no choice. I just felt very small and puny next to these immaculately dressed French beauties who strutted around me in their high-heels staring down at my genitals. I looked at them closely. Their knee-length blue tartan pleated school skirts overhung the edge of the bed as they leant against it. Eloise caught my attention as she retensioned her stocking, revealing a deep lace-trimmed white petticoat and lacy suspender belt. I had forgotten that the school uniform included black stockings. She dropped her skirt hem and shook her pleats down, smoothing them back into place. 

I felt the bottom of the bed suddenly depress behind me and a pair of knees push firmly against the top of my head, ruffling my hair. The other girls sat around me so that they could view my now fully erect penis. I felt the scratchiness of plaid pleats and nylon clad legs against my arms and legs as they made themselves comfortable. 

Whoever it was who was kneeling on the bed behind me had now decided to straddle my face. Her knees parted and, firstly, a layer of pleated skirt, followed by white nylon underslip swept over my face as she lifted her bottom and slid further over me, splaying her legs. She was wearing a pair of thin pale pink nylon French knickers trimmed with delicate rose-patterned lace. Her underwear smelled of perfume. Once in position she lowered her derriere onto my face so that my nose was rammed into the tight nylon between her buttocks. 

I was completely immobile and also felt very vulnerable. My field of view was confined to her petticoat and skirt which she had spread over me behind her. Once again I was in a claustrophobic enclosed 'petticoat world' unable to move. Fortunately I could breathe through my mouth but gradually became aware that above me her vagina was dripping secretions into her knickers and onto my chin and lips. She shuffled about on top of me spreading her posterior cheeks more widely over my face. She scratched her buttocks through her skirt and I was almost deafened by the froufrou hissing sounds of nylon against nylon. 

The girls were talking quickly and loudly and I did not know what was going on. I felt a piece of paper being slid under my rock-hard penis where it lay pointing stiffly to my navel across my lower belly. The paper was placed so that my penis root was at one end. A thin pair of hands started furiously manipulating and pulling at my foreskin. This was followed by giggles then further pulling and tweaking. I felt someone mark the position of the end of my penis on the paper using a pencil or ballpoint. 

The bed swayed as the girls changed position. I smelled the distinctive smell of warm vagina emanating from the girl who was sitting on my face.

Another, cooler, pair of hands violently yanked and pummeled at my erection. This was followed by more giggling from the nineteen year olds, including my captor. Again I felt my penis being measured, this time I was sure someone was writing their initials next to the mark on the paper. This continued until it was my captor's turn to attempt to lengthen my erection. She knelt forward uncovering my face so that I could breathe in fresh cool air. Her thin fingers ferociously pulled, pushed, squeezed until she was happy and a mark was placed on the paper. There was cheering and laughing. Clearly someone had won the competition but I could not tell who. All I knew was that my penis felt twice its normal length although clearly it wasn't. My captor sat back on my face. My face was swamped against tartan pleats. She lifted her skirt and petticoat and threw them over me casually so once again my head lay within the confined constricting space inside her school skirt.

There followed further pulling a squeezing as each girl tried to improve on her previous score. Again I re-emerged into daylight briefly as my captor scratched and clawed at my rigid shaft determined to better her earlier attempt. The paper by now must have been covered in marks. She flipped up her skirt and waist-slip and sat down on my face and shuffled from side to side ensuring my nose was fully between her arse cheeks. She laughed at something and the bed shook around me. I felt completely and utterly helpless. I became aware that the girls were having a third attempt to better their score; 'the best of three' I thought. I lay there completely at their mercy while the pulling and squeezing continued. 

Over and over again my erection was manipulated and measured amid cheers and giggling. I was sure that this had nothing to do with 'biological studies' and again I yearned for sexual relief. My captor knelt up and I stared at her damp crotch loosely concealed by her French knickers. My erection immediately strained further as I breathed in the smell of warm cunt just inches from my nostrils. The pencil line was drawn, and this was greeted with wild shrieks. I understood from this that my captor had won the competition. It turned out to be Lysette Pelletier.

Lysette swung her long legs off me and I looked around. The weather was atrocious and the windows rattled against the wind. The girls returned to their beds leaving me to stare from side to side and wonder what would happen next. 

From nowhere a pair of legs appeared under twirling pleats and straddled me full on my face. She spread her petticoat and skirt over me and again I was plunged into muffled darkness. She knelt further forward so that my nose was rammed into her intensely smelly knicker crotch. She told me that I was a 'dirty boy'. Immediately I realised it was Marianne Martineau, the girl with the swaying hips and penchant for brutal milking. Fortunately she had her back to my penis and seemed disinterested in my genitalia. She sat impassively on my face clearly satisfied to have my nostrils in close contact with her gusset. I heard her open a book then felt her place it on her lap over my head. It was a heavy book and she appeared to be taking notes judging by the other movements above me. She talked to another girl and said.

"C'est vraiment séance tout à fait confortable sur le visage 'du perverti sale '," she explained that it was actually quite comfortable sitting on the 'dirty pervert's' face.

She remained on top of me for many long minutes, turning the page and making jottings in her exercise book. I struggled to breathe through my nose but thankfully I was just able to gulp breath through my mouth. Her pubic hair felt quite coarse through her knickers which by now were sodden with vaginal secretions. She pulled up her skirt and underslip and scratched her thigh just above her black stockings. 

For an instant our eyes met as she mouthed, "Dirty boy," disdainfully down at me and threw her skirt and petticoat casually over me again. Again I felt immobile in my confined underskirt prison. I could hear many voices around me and Marianne talking in an animated and lively way. I made out a lot of 'ouis' to various questions. In an instant Marianne lifted her skirt and eased herself off me. Would this be the end of my captivity? I hoped it would be.

I was mistaken. The rain outside seemed to match my mood. Danielle Lalonde explained to me that the girls were bored with the poor weather and that they were confined indoors. She told me that they wanted to play a game where I would be masturbated by two girls and the other girls would guess how quickly they could make me 'come' then they would swap around so that every girl had a turn at wanking me. Her English was delightful and my penis was already stirring at the thought of being milked by these nineteen year olds with their long cool fingers.

Swiftly Paulette Auclair knelt on the bottom of the bed behind me. She nudged my hair with her smooth black-stockinged knees and in an instant she had slid over me so that she was sitting on my face staring at my erection. She rearranged her pale blue nylon petticoat over me and dropped her pleated school skirt around me. Paulette's odor was quite strong and I savoured the sweet intensity of being under her skirt again. Her bronzed thighs appeared very athletic as she knelt up and sat down again allowing me to study her pale blue cotton knickers more fully. They were decorated with tiny pink rosebuds and looked very 'girly'. Down came her bottom again on my face as I felt my erection straining stiffly.

I became aware of another girl getting onto the bed and then kneeling between my open legs. I felt the roughness of her plaid pleats against my thighs as she began touching my stomach and inner thighs. I gathered from the conversation that the girls were deciding how long it would take for me to reach my climax. 

"Cinq minutes et trente en second lieu, quatre minutes vingt secondes, Dix minutes exactement, quinze minutes et cinq secondes," I heard them say. I do not know whether anyone was writing down these guesses but it seemed totally disorganised.

The milking began. Paulette knelt forward and began massaging my stomach and chest while Nadia Brun pulled and pushed my foreskin up and down, gradually building up the speed. Above me Paulette's arse swayed around from side to side under her swishing lace-edged petticoat and tartan pleated school skirt. The sight of her twin cheeks swiveling and churning about drove me wild. I tried to lick them but they were just out of range. I just stared besotted and intoxicated by these amazing panty-clad globes. Her stockinged knees gripped my face as her movements became more and more ferocious. Meanwhile Nadia's hands became more and more savage. I felt that she was almost hurting me. Paulette's fingers were also on my penis and balls sac. Nadia's hands must have appeared as a blur because she was wanking me so violently.

"Trois minutes," only three minutes, I thought as the milking continued. Above me Paulette's bottom wiggled and swayed. The pleats shook and flicked around me like a whirlwind. The aroma from between her legs told me that she was aroused.

"Cinq minutes," someone said, giggling hysterically.

The girls shouted out encouragement to their two classmates who were, by now, wanking me mercilessly. I could take no more stimulation. I was on the 'home-straight'. Every sense in my body had been triggered and primed and it was clearly just a matter of seconds. 

I wildly bucked my lower body, and out flowed five warm thick strands of semen, in quick succession. I collapsed staring up Paulette's skirt at the damp patch in her knickers. I was worn out and my testicles felt sore and completely drained.

Someone said that it had taken me seven minutes and ten seconds. I gather Marianne Martineau had guessed nearest. Paulette slid off me dragging her skirt hems across my face and neck as she did so. I looked down and saw my shriveled penis curled up in a pool of slime. 

Immediately someone straddled me, this time staring down at my face. She knelt on my shoulders and pushed down on me, telling me that she was in charge. It was Jacqueline Lemieux. Her knickers were inches from my face. They were cream coloured with a delicate Calais lace hem in convoluted daisies. She lifted her skirt up and petticoat and pushed her hand inside her knickers and stared directly at me. She rubbed herself up and down her cleft as I lay there spellbound beneath her. She pushed down on me again. 




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 15



Other girls stood about watching me watching her masturbate. I struggled to break free as I seriously wanted to fuck this beauty sitting astride me. In front of me her knickers displayed a damp patch which grew and grew until it was almost transparent. Her aroma pervaded every olfactory nerve ending in my nostrils. I felt I was being sucked into this young woman's orgasm. 

Her movements became more frenetic as she approached her orgasm. I was almost delirious as I so badly wished to have my penis deep inside her. She had both hands inside her knickers by now, and her rubbings were furious, vigorous jerkings. She screamed and cursed, screamed and cried out as she attained her climax over me. It was over in seconds as she dropped her waist-slip and skirt over me and trapped my face in the warmth between her legs. She slid forward so that my nose touched the sodden gusset of her knickers and I was forced to breathe in her strong vaginal smells.

My penis was now being handled by slim cool fingers. Reluctantly it began to stiffen and extend so that the foreskin was drawn back over the glans. Now fully exposed I felt two more hands cup my testicles and massage the pool of semen into my stomach. Above me Jacqueline appeared to grind her cleft against my nose apparently intent on achieving another orgasm. She clearly felt that it was too much effort and with a flurry of petticoat and pleated skirt she was off the bed leaving my puny body naked and for all to see. 

Before I could make out who was wanking me another pair of legs straddled my face and I was buried under a white nylon petticoat and a flared pleated skirt. 

I have no idea who it was or what happened next. All I can remember is that I was milked again and again and again. Each session of wanking seemed to take longer and longer. The last session took forty five minutes I think. I had my face under so many petticoats, jupons, skirts, jupes and pushed into knickers of all designs and materials, cotton ones, nylon ones, lacy and plain pairs. I was also shown every make and shade of suspender belt and felt that I had seen every pair of black nylon stockings in the world. My mind had become overwhelmed by all the sexual stimulation and my body suffered dreadfully.

As the last girl swung her legs off me I was aware that the room had suddenly gone very quiet. All the French girls seemed to be standing by their beds. The wind blew with great velocity and there standing in the doorway was Miss Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress.

"Sexy things eh Tom? Lots of sexy things no doubt?" she said looking around the dormitory, with a terrible grimace on her face. 

(Continued in part 16)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 16



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it. 

I had decided not to get the local police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to 'Peeping Toms'. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and tethered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards at each corner of the room. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part sixteen of my sorry tale.)

*

Miss Amelia Wiff-Naseford appeared at the doorway to the French schoolgirl's dormitory.

She stood with her legs apart, wearing a navy blue tweed skirt and matching jacket. Her four-inch high heels looked lethal and her hair was pulled tightly back in a bun. Her hawk-like eyes pierced mine from behind her steel-framed glasses. She truly looked a terrifying sight.

"Mr.Tom, I want your head up my skirt, right away, please release him girls," cackled the insane headmistress. 

A couple of girls disentangled me from the various scarves and belts that had held me down on the bed. My wrists and ankles were quite sore, and my penis was in poor shape having suffered constant masturbation since mid morning. It must have been lunchtime, judging by the way Miss Wiff-Naseford ushered them all out. 

"Head up my skirt now, wretch," she repeated, this time with more venom. 

I fell on my knees in front of her, staring at her cruel shoes. Her evil-looking jet black seamed stockings disappeared under her calf length pleated skirt and I ducked my head under. The smell was overwhelming. I was met by an inner layer of white nylon petticoat with a deep lace trim. I pushed my head reluctantly under this until my face nudged up against her white loose legged French knickers. These had a deep lace trim which matched her petticoat. The odours from her vagina were horribly strong. 

"Tongue out boy and start licking," she shouted at me through the muffled layers.

She shook down her wide long petticoat and skirt over me so that all that could be seen were my knees and lower legs. The rest of me was completely hidden from view under her skirt. Within the hot confines of her underwear I pushed her gusset to one side and began licking her outer labia which glistened, and opened, revealing her innermost parts. The smell was again fiercely pervasive and overpowering. 

The stink from her cunt appeared far more intense than any of the nineteen-year olds I had pleasured, especially when clearly she was now 'on-heat'. Her odour was sickly sweet and filled my nostrils with the smell of ripe ammonia and savoury primitive smells. I was intoxicated by her pheromones however and breathed in her mature and distinctive natural scent. 

I could not express clearly how I felt, but suddenly began to enjoy having my nose pushed into the head teacher's dribbling orifice. She had an astringent bouquet between her legs which had an almost primeval animal attraction. 

Miss Wiff-Naseford reached up slowly behind her skirt and into the waistband of her underwear. She slid off her damp French knickers over her suspenders and down her black stockings. She nudged me to one side as she stepped out of them. Then I resumed my position with my head up her skirt probing her now naked hairy outer lips with my tongue. 

"Oh my, oh my," she whispered as I flicked my tongue over her prominent clitoris.

"Don't stop now Tom. Remember the police," she threatened, clearly desperate for me to stimulate her thoroughly.

I gripped her buttocks under her skirt and pushed my tongue firmly up and down her gaping cleft. I wiggled my tongue around inside her as she clasped my head through her tweed skirt. We carried on in this fashion for many minutes. Once or twice I felt her knees buckle as she tried to concentrate on her orgasm. 

She mewed, "Bliss, heavenly bliss, oh my, oh my, "over and over again. 

We retreated backwards to one of the beds where she lay on her back and I resumed licking her between her legs. Her black stockings contrasted with her pale thighs and hairiness surrounding her genitals. She threw her legs over my shoulder and drew me further into her.

"Oh Tom, Mr. Tom," she continued as she threw her skirt over me, her legs wide apart as I pursued her climax unrelentingly. Saliva and sexual secretions covered my face and her genitals.

She appeared to be more like putty in my hands, than the mad harridan I was used to. A great emotional surge welled up inside her and she gripped my head and 'came' in a great jaggering, shuddering wave of pure unrefined pleasure.

"Oh Tom, Oh my," she whimpered clearly now a much gentler creature when sexually fulfilled. I had my uses after all, I thought inwardly. 

We lay on the bed for many minutes listening to the rain. I was not sure whether I should kiss her. I still thought that she was deranged and should be locked up. She ruffled my hair playfully and announced that after lunch I should be ready to orally pleasure the rest of Class 2A who were in the middle of dress rehearsals for the Autumn Review. I wondered what they would be dressed as; surely not more Can-can dancers or French maids? I wondered how I could keep going. I felt a physical wreck but needed food so I agreed with Amelia to finish off Class 2A, purely because I required sustenance.

* Saturday Afternoon

*

After lunch, where I was again groped by Celia the school secretary, I was taken to Miss Wiff-Naseford's study, stripped and tethered to the floor with the now familiar ropes and leather straps. 

The rehearsals were going on in the school hall and three girls were ushered in. They were wearing 'Alice in Wonderland' costumes in different colours. Their hair was pushed back with ribbons and they all wore ballet pumps and striped stockings. Their dresses had puffed sleeves and several deep tiers which flounced outwards and moved in a swaying fashion as they walked. Clearly their frocks were supported by masses of white gathered petticoats which occasionally billowed out underneath. As they entered the room I could just make out the lacy frilliness of their knee-length bloomers which peeped out below their skirts and petticoats.

The headmistress took up her position on the armchair behind me. She was still keen to watch me use my tongue on the young women who were about to squat open legged on my face.

"Danielle Holbrook, please step forward and remove your panties," she said to a dark haired girl in a pale pink Alice frock. 

She was an incredibly attractive girl with a broad grin and freckles. As she approached I noticed that she appeared at least six foot three inches tall even in her low dance shoes. She lifted up several layers of petticoat and felt for the waistband of her bloomers. She pulled them down to her knees then stepped out of them. Miss Wiff-Naseford explained what she wanted her to do and once more I had an athletic looking nineteen year old standing over me, straddling my face.

I stared up her dress as she lowered herself onto me where she rearranged her skirts and petticoats over me so I could only be seen by the headmistress. I immediately began my fervent probing, nuzzling and licking of the hairy opening presented to me between her legs. Her vagina was surrounded by a soft fuzz of red pubic hair which rapidly became damp as I swept my tongue over her labia and into her. I could tell that she wasn't used to oral sex as she did not appear to respond as quickly as predicted. 

All at once, however, she cottoned-on to the idea that she could bring herself off on my nose. I then stopped licking and allowed her to jerk her clitoral area over the contours of my face. I rested my head on the hard pillow and allowed her free rein. She bucked, bounced and rubbed herself all over me until I was covered in oozing vaginal spendings. The atmosphere beneath her many petticoat layers and Alice dress was very hot and humid. I felt her become more and more urgent with her movements. All about me her undergarments shook and swished. My face was now wet and slippery, partly with sweat but mainly with the juices issuing from her cleft. 

After about fifteen long minutes of arduous activity she orgasmed over me, gushing out further lubrication and rested, panting and struggling for breath. 

"Well done little Alice," said the headmistress evidently pleased at the spectacle. I heard the clink of her gin bottle and glass; clearly it was going to be another intensive afternoon.

"Second Alice please, ah Miss Lucy Gratton-Smith. Step up to the 'peeping Tom' dear." 

A rather fragile gangling girl wearing a somewhat oversize Alice frock walked over to me. She appeared much younger than her nineteen years and looked rather doll-like and ungainly. Her dress moved in exaggerated sways as she bobbed along seemingly oblivious of what was required of her, or of me.

"Knickers off Lucy please dear," said Miss Wiff-Naseford in ingratiating tones.

The doll-like figure, with her blonde wavy hair pulled back by her Alice band, reached up inside her dress and petticoats and searched for her waistband. Once located, she dragged down her lace edged bloomers and stepped out of them, allowing me a view of a luscious display of lace edged frou-frou under her skirts.

"Pop over to Tom and place your feet on each side of his face," she said encouraging the youngster.

Lucy Gratton-Smith stared at me and at my dormant erection and placed one foot, then the other foot, to either side of my face. I stared up her long spindly legs to where tufts of light brown hair indicated where her vagina nestled. Her petticoats swung around me and descended over me as she lowered her bottom fully and squarely onto my face.

Her cleft glistened in the half-light under her frock and I began my tonguing and nuzzling. She flinched noticeable until she realised that this was indeed a pleasurable experience for her, and for me. I heard the headmistress encourage her to relax and enjoy the sensations. Very soon she was bouncing up and down on my tongue and yielding to my probings and lickings of her clitoris. She became surprisingly vocal as I concentrated my attentions on her 'love-bud'.

"Ooooh, oww oh, oooh, ow, oh wow, no don't stop," she exclaimed in a feverish almost joyous manner.

I could tell by her movements that this may have been the first time she had ever experienced an orgasm. Her bouncing became more fervent and energetic. She grabbed my head with both hands and gradually and thankfully brought herself to an orgasm. Her skirts and petticoats trembled and shook above me as she experienced the primitive onslaught of orgasm following orgasm. She appeared to explode with joy, and she laughed and cried at the same instance. I understood once again the complete and complex enjoyment women had when sexually fulfilled.

"Off you get dear," said Miss Wiff-Naseford, noticeably moved by the young girl's experience. As she raised her petticoats off me I could see tears in her eyes, and she smiled down at me and waved. I had great respect for Lucy but given half a chance I would fuck her, and often too.

"Elizabeth Chadburn, please step forward and drop your knickers," barked out the gin- swilling head teacher. 

A dark skinned girl stepped forward wearing a yellow high-waisted Alice dress. Her black crinkly hair was pulled back by a pale yellow Alice band. Elizabeth knew exactly what to do and was sitting on my face with her open oozing vagina pushed into my nostrils in no time. Ten minutes of vigorous and fierce jerking brought her to an orgasm. It was then 'up with her dress' and 'on with her pantaloons' and then back in line near the door. 

Miss Wiff-Naseford dismissed them and asked them to inform the next batch of girls that they were required in her office. My penis again felt cheated. It required relief and a lot of it. I had thought that maybe the headmistress had remembered our previous agreement. She had promised that I would obtain some sort of masturbatory stimulation in return for my co-operation in this insane 'Peeping Tom' punishment. I swore that I would remind her at the next session.

Five minutes passed and I could hear that the headmistress was pouring out more gin and tonic and was mumbling to herself about orgasms and Matron. Matron was nowhere to be seen and I missed her soothing cool flannels on my face.

There was a sound of soft knocking on the headmistress's door and there appeared four girls dressed as Victorian, or Edwardian ladies in long skirts and white blouses. I noticed by the way they walked that they also wore lace-up boots.

"Come in, come in. This is our 'Peeping Tom' who has kindly volunteered to pleasure you all orally between your legs. Ah yes, Karen Brittan, are you having a period?" she asked of the first willowy girl. 

She replied that she was in the middle of her menstrual cycle, so Miss Wiff-Naseford told her to keep her knickers on and to stand over me, with one boot on either side of my face.

I lay there watching her looking down at me. Her face seemed a long way away. She carefully placed her footwear to each side of my upturned face. Gradually she pulled up her long black skirt and long white flounced cotton petticoat and opened her legs until I had a clear view up her clothing. She was wearing grey nylon stockings held up by her normal, everyday suspenders. There was nothing old fashioned about her knickers either although I detected a dark brown stain in her crotch which indicated that indeed she was experiencing her monthly cycle. I stared in a state of desperation at the stain as it landed on my face. Her period was clearly at 'maximum flow' and I was aware she was also wearing a sodden sanitary towel. 

The experience was ghastly. I nuzzled her the best I could but was completely put off by her emissions. I pushed her off me but she continued rubbing herself backwards and forwards over my face, sliding over me over and over again. Eventually she got off me and I spat out anything which tasted suspect from my mouth. Miss Wiff-Naseford clearly could see I was in a mess and cleaned me up by spitting on my face and wiping me off roughly with a paper tissue.

Karen hobbled off to clean herself up and I was left to pleasure Phoebe Clifford-Singfield and Gillian Hayward, both of who 'came' quickly and vociferously much to the head teacher's amusement. 

"Well done girls. That is the way to obtain pleasure from a man when he is a bit worse for wear and 'cannot get it up'," she chortled, almost trying to justify the experience to them. 

The fourth girl, Dianne Mason, took a bit more coaxing as she was very shy and self conscious at having a male's tongue up her tight fanny. 

"Call the next batch in on your way out please," she told them as they left the room. The gin bottle appeared again and I noticed that the tonic had run out. This did not apparently dissuade 'our dear head teacher' from imbibing further, however.

The door again opened and there stood six girls wearing the Dentwood Finishing School uniform. Presumably they were in the school orchestra or were in charge of props or costumes. I heard the familiar click and clatter of high heel shoes. I looked towards them where they remained assembled at the far end of the room, as seen from my vantage point, between my legs. I leered at their black stockings where they disappeared under their knee-length blue tartan pleats and my penis again began to stiffen.

"Deborah Bramley, please step forward and pull down your knickers," said the now drunken Amelia W-N behind be. She lurched forward and kicked my head as if to remind me to keep alert.

A wide eyed, ash-blonde girl strode across the room. Her broad hips swayed from side to side, flicking up her delightful pleats. I was again spellbound by the beauty of these long legged nineteen year olds. Her shoes were highly polished patent leather with a four-inch stiletto heel. She stood to one side of me and sneered, and told me that I was a 'fucking pervert'. I wondered whether she really knew the truth that I was really an ornithologist and that all this is a beastly mistake.

She stood astride me and swiveled her hips so as to reveal her petticoat and white shiny satin knickers. She lifted the back of her skirt, bent her legs and dragged her knickers down to her knees. She stared at me again and hissed "Fucking pervert," much to the headmistress's glee. Miss Bramley stood above me and let her knickers slide slowly down her calves, then ankles, so that they ended up on my face with the gusset on my nose. 

"Fucking pervert," she said to me again. 

This brought on some mock applause from Miss W-N who reached out and kicked me once again.

The girl appeared to enjoy having me spread-eagled on the floor beneath her feet and she looked as if she would take her time and savour the experience. Gingerly she stepped out of her knickers and kicked them to one side. I now stared straight up her skirt at her hairy vagina where it lay in wait for me. She lifted her shoe and placed it against my cheek, and did the same with the other until my face was well and truly trapped. She slid her shoes even further inwards so that my head felt it was gripped in a forceful vice. She was really hurting me and I tried to struggle but the solid cushion stopped me from moving my head even an inch. In vain I watched her vagina descend upon me knowing that I was thoroughly trapped between her feet.

Again she called me a 'fucking pervert' and began wiping her cunt over my nose and face. 

Again I felt as if my face was just a 'sexual aid', a mere masturbatory tool and that she may as well be rubbing her labia over a bed-knob or chair-arm. Up and down, side to side, she dragged her slippery lips over me. I felt that I could not be bothered to even open my mouth or stick out my tongue. I just watched her genitalia slide over me, at first gently and then more fervently. 

All around me her pleats and petticoat shook as her sliding was replaced by bouncing, and the bouncing replaced by jerking. My head and face were rocked and pushed from side to side. My features were plastered with vaginal slime as she ceaselessly carried on with her self-centred masturbation. 

Over and over again she slid over me until I felt as if my face was being eroded. My penis again was at maximum extension as I watched stocking tops, suspender supports, underslip and the underside of her pleated school skirt moving backwards and forwards above me. 

Eventually she discovered that my nose would provide the best surface to stimulate her clitoris so she concentrated all of her efforts on bringing herself to an orgasm on my nostrils. Her jerkings were now manic and I felt completely used and sub-human.

Through her skirt and petticoat I could hear her grunting and swearing. I heard the head teacher shouting encouragement, Sweat poured off me and runnels of cunt-juice dripped across my cheeks, I hoped and prayed that she would 'come' soon. A frantic mass of pleats and petticoat swayed all about me, and then she screeched out an orgasm. She rammed her vagina firmly into my face and I felt her internal muscles spasm and shudder. Then it all went very quiet. Miss Wiff-Naseford clapped and cheered, congratulating her pupil on her successful orgasm. I felt drained and exhausted.

Only five more girls to go I thought. 

"Ah Pamela Meakin, we have not seen you for a while Pamela, Are you having a period dear?"




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 16



"No, Miss Wiff-Naseford," said the curly haired slender girl click-clicking towards me. From my vantage point on the floor she appeared to be about six foot five inches tall. Her legs appeared to 'end in the stratosphere'. I stared lecherously at her skirt hem. I saw a flash of cream petticoat trimmed in very fine broderie and eyelet lace. Her stockings were very fine denier and she clearly took a certain pride in her appearance.

"Down with your panties Pamela, and squat on Mr. Tom's face," came the usual order from 'our dear friend'.

The curly-haired young Miss sauntered over to me and stared down pushing her fringe to one side. Over my face came one leg, then up came her pleats. I watched her pull up her petticoat to waist level then peel her knickers down to her knees. Just like Deborah she allowed gravity to finish the job and her damp gusset ended up across my face. She smelled wonderful. Her odour had a wholesome muskiness to it; I felt that I would deem it a pleasure to drown in its headiness. I considered that I would really enjoy having my nostrils between her legs. She reached down, like a slim crane, and swept her underwear to one side. She placed one four inch high heel to one side of my head and placed her other shoe on the other side. Steadying herself she splayed her knees and squatted on my face. 

Her odour was exquisite and I nuzzled my way into her labia and into her inner lips. I slowly licked her up and down, flicking her flaps with my tongue, probing every irregularity of her exposed opening. She appeared to growl contentedly as I poked and prodded with my tongue. I felt her offering me more of her lips and clitoris to stimulate rather as if it were a rare succulent fruit. 

We then set up a steady rhythm as I pushed out my tongue and she rocked backwards and forwards holding onto the top of my head. Five minutes later she 'came' having ferociously and gradually built up the pace until she could take no more. She collapsed backwards over me and I was treated to having her long nylon-clad legs resting across my face where I could nuzzle and lick them until she felt strong enough to stand up.

I felt Miss Wiff-Naseford again reach out and kick me, narrowly missing my ear. She was clearly the worse for wear and I could just make out that her gin bottle was now completely empty.

Barbara Rippingdale was next to step forward. She had lovely long brown hair tied in a ponytail. As she walked her hips swiveled and her pleats swayed from side to side. She looked incredibly athletic. Her shoes were immaculate; in fact everything about her looked perfect. She smiled down at me and at the head teacher who now appeared to have fallen asleep.

Barbara twirled around above me, deliberately displaying her white suspenders and lace trimmed white flouncy petticoat. She wiggled her bottom from side to side with her back to me and pouted flirtatiously staring at my now huge penis. She nudged it with her shoe and placed a heel on my stomach. My penis visibly grew by an inch as I watched her walking above me. 

My tethered outstretched arms yearned to hold her, and all I could do was watch. She walked very purposefully over me and over my face. My eyes followed her crotch under her skirt which she twirled teasingly. She laughed and stood next to me. She pulled up her skirt and petticoat above her buttocks and pushed down her knickers and stepped out of them. She dropped them on my face. With one movement she kicked them of me then positioned her feet on each side of my face. She opened her legs, bent her knees then sat full on my face. With minor shuffling she positioned her vagina next to my mouth and flipped her petticoat and skirt over me so that I was more or less concealed from view. 

Her aroma was intense. She smelled sweet and acrid, like rotting bananas. I buried my tongue inside her, sliding my nose over her clitoral hood and eventually onto her clitoris. She pushed down on me holding my head through her skirt. Above me her stockings swished and crackled against her petticoat. Around me, inside her skirt, everything was a moving mass of white lace trimmed nylon and blue pleated tartan. I felt amazingly excited and my penis once again strained for relief. The exposed sensitive tip was in contact with the hem of her skirt where she had spread it over my stomach behind her.

I continued licking and probing her with my tongue, over and over again, reacting to her pressure on my head and against my face. Then suddenly she came, first gently, then in a full blown spasm. Every part of her shook as she groaned ecstatically eventually pushing herself off.

"That was incredible," she said to me under her breath. "You must stay with us in our dormitory tonight; do you hear Tom, after the evening meal?" I nodded but could not take in what I had just heard as I felt so exhausted. My tongue felt numb and my neck ached. 

The next girl stepped forward. The sleeping headmistress appeared only partly aware of the proceedings. Jennifer Smith stood over me and pushed down her knickers and kicked them to one side. Fifteen minutes later she was screaming her head off which awakened Miss Wiff-Naseford who announced, "Next please," in a voice which was clearly announced to everyone in the room that she was drunk, almost dead-drunk.

"Oh yes, Linda, please step forward and drop your panties for me," she said to Linda Lander-Metcalfe. 

She was another long-legged 'catwalk model' whom nature had endowed with incredible gyrating hips and a wide derriere. She walked towards me with her bottom swiveling from side to side, allowing her swaying skirt to flick about, and revealing the intricate lacy hem of her pale blue underskirt. Her pleats appeared to concertina in every direction as she stood against my shoulder peering down. Her long slim fingers soon pushed down her knickers to calf level, whereupon she stepped out of them revealing a bushy cunt.

I had never seen such luxuriant pubic hair as she stepped over me, her wide arse hovering above me. Even from the floor her body odour smelled enticing, and it was not long until her hairy vagina was being wiped over my face. Beneath her skirt I watched her petticoat and matching suspenders moving about above me as she dragged her gaping labia over my nose and chin in swift jerking movements. She clearly knew just how to' bring herself off' as her frottage was deliberate and precise. Her clitoris slid over me as my tongue flicked out, snake like, in rhythm with her masturbation. Within ten minutes she attained her orgasm and once again I was drained physically with my tongue, neck and penis suffering badly.

My penis was fully erect and weeping precum; it appeared to have been oozing pre-ejaculatory fluid continuously whilst pleasuring these five girls.

"Bravo Miss Lander-Metcalfe," said the headmistress, now semi-conscious and eager to see the final girl pleasured.

"Next girl please," she shouted towards the doorway. Up strutted another six-footer with blonde shoulder length hair with a fringe and ribbons. 

"Your name please?"

"Patricia Sturgess," she said in a clipped and well educated voice.

"Knickers off Patricia, Ah yes weren't you the girl who suffered from incontinence last term?"

"Yes, Miss Wiff-Naseford, but I am much better now," she said hesitating and looking nervously down at me.

"Bed-wetting wasn't it?" continued the head teacher.

"Yes Miss, but only when I had 'naughty' dreams," said Miss Sturgess, somewhat reluctant to remove her panties.

I stared at the hem of her pleats wondering what was waiting for me between her legs. The thought of her peeing in my face was clearly putting me off and my penis appeared visibly to retreat to rejoin my testicles. 

"Sit on his face, girl," said the now completely conscious headmistress. 

She stood over me and shuffled forwards so that her three-inch heels were placed next to my cheeks. I stared up her school skirt and watched her spread her legs and lower herself so that she squatted over my mouth. I was in two minds whether to stimulate her and risk a down torrent of urine or whether to let her use my face as a masturbatory tool. I judged that it was safer to let her use me so I lay there and allowed her to rub her sensitive parts over me. 

She delicately slid her cunt up and down over my nose oozing secretions and creating a smooth lubricated surface upon which she could achieve her pleasure. For many minutes she continued as I lay there staring at her vagina as it made one overhead pass followed by another. I lost count how many times she rubbed herself on me but it must have been several hundred. Her rubbing now resembled jerking, and her jerkings were three times as powerful as her rubbing.

From out of the blue she let out an unearthly groan and urinated and 'came' at the same time.

My mouth was flooded with hot salty pee, which I swallowed quickly, followed by another mouthful, followed by a third then a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, a seventh then finally an eighth. I felt sick and licked my lips tasting the savoury 'vegetable stock' like flavour of her excretions. It was awful, but my penis suddenly became rock hard again.

Miss Wiff-Naseford yelped with joy at seeing me act so quickly, thereby saving her carpet from being stained. I just collapsed backwards trying not to vomit while Miss Sturgess stood up and wiped herself sheepishly with a handkerchief which she kept in her sweater sleeve. 

I had achieved the impossible, I had orally pleasured half the school and I was still alive, but only just. Miss Wiff-Naseford dismissed Class 2A and summoned Celia and Molly, the matron. They both entered the room and untied me and cleaned me up with tissues and towels. No one knew where my clothes were, and I could not remember as my mind was full of swirling visions of female genitalia, underwear and high-heeled shoes. Matron found me an old cotton dressing gown, decorated with pink roses, which I was obliged to wear to dinner which clearly was imminent judging by all the activity coming from the direction of the dining refectory.

*

Saturday Dinner

*

I was very self conscious at sitting at the high table between Lesley Hopkins, the games-mistress, and Martine Hamilton, the French-mistress. My dressing gown was only loosely held together by a belt and it gaped open allowing my straining erection to poke out beneath the table. As I stared around at the girls in front of me I saw one or two smiling at me, blowing kisses, and generally being overtly flirtatious. I was pleased that the long tablecloth hid my predicament from their prying eyes.

Following the main course which was a delicious lasagne and salad I struck up a conversation with Miss Hopkins. She was wearing a low cut blouse over a knee-length black skirt. Beneath which I could just make her dark brown stockings. We discussed the games and physical education curriculum in the school and she told me that some of her girls, as she called them, were competition class athletes, mainly runners and high-jumpers. 

As we talked I became aware of a hand resting on my knee. It belonged to Miss Hamilton and she allowed her cool slender fingers to slide beneath my dressing gown and onto my inner thigh. I casually turned to say something to her but she was engaged in a very heated argument with Muriel Browne, the classics mistress. I continued my conversation with Lesley Hopkins and noticed that the fingers had now rested lightly against my pubic hair and they were casually plucking at them in small circular movements. 

I glanced down to see that my penis was sticking up vertically against the table cloth. The laundered linen cloth contrasted starkly with the exposed purple head of my totally exposed glans. The cool fingers now touched my shaft and gently, but firmly, began to milk me.

My conversation with Miss Hopkins became rather laboured until Celia, sitting next to her, joined in. The three of us talked at some length on various topics until the pudding course arrived. Miss Hamilton retracted her hand but it was soon replaced with Miss Lesley Hopkins' even cooler hand. I felt her fingers wrap themselves around my erection as she finished her ice cream and licked her lips. 

Lesley resumed her conversation with Celia but continued stimulating me and squeezing me beneath the table. Meanwhile Martine placed her hand carelessly on my thigh and moved it to join Lesley's. Both hands appeared to move in unison. Martine laughed loudly at something Muriel said and gave my balls an aggressive squeeze. I almost spluttered out my coffee, unsure of which conversation to join, as both ladies to both sides of me had turned their backs. 

I looked around the room again and caught the eye of Barbara Rippingdale who winked at me, smiled and pointed upwards. I suddenly remembered that she said that I should stay with them in their dormitory that night. My erection twitched between the two hands which were alternately twisting and pulling. My face turned beetroot red at the thought of more 'sexy things' with another class of twenty nineteen year olds. Again my penis twitched, and again two hands pulled and pushed at it giving my face what must have been a somewhat glazed expression.

" Would you like some more?" said Martine, staring into my eyes for the first time.

"Um err eh? More of what?" I said.

"Coffee," she said, "what did you think I meant?" she said as she glanced and smiled at my knob-end now dribbling pre-cum on to my dressing gown.

Miss Wiff-Naseford stood up from the high table and left the room unsteadily, holding onto various chairs and supported by matron. She was clearly going to have to sleep off her afternoon gin session and would not be requiring my services for the rest of the evening. Both Miss Hopkins and Miss Hamilton gave me their room numbers but I felt too dazed to concentrate. My penis, and the sexual relief I needed once again appeared to have dominated all my thoughts.

The room swiftly emptied until I was left on my own with some kitchen staff and Barbara Rippingdale. I stood up and walked towards her. Again she looked delightful in her long ponytail and big brown eyes. Her lashes appeared very long and she fluttered them coyly as she stared down at me. I suddenly realised that my erection was fully exposed and that my dressing gown had become untied. I sheepishly pulled the front together and retied it. 

She smiled in a sweet and wholesome manner and took my hand. I noticed how long and slim her fingers were compared to mine. She led me out of the hall and along a narrow corridor which served the east wing of the rambling old building. Her high-heels sounded deafening as she clattered along the wooden block floor. My bare feet made no sound at all. We passed through a door and emerged into a stairwell. 

She stopped, reached down and kissed me in a passionate and ferocious manner. I gained the impression that she had been starved of physical affection so I kissed her back, even more viciously as I lifted her skirt and fondled her buttocks through her petticoat and nylon panties. 

She dragged me across the lobby where she threw herself down on the third step. With her legs wide apart and her skirt up to her waist, she tugged me towards her and pulled open my dressing gown to reveal my ramrod stiff erection. I knelt between her black-stockinged thighs and pawed at her damp panty crotch. 

A suspender clip came undone as she stood above me and hauled down her panties in one swift movement. Again she sat in front of me breathing heavily with lust in her eyes. I was on top of her and inside her in almost one movement. She guided me in and pulled me down, until we were lying sprawled out on the stairs. My erection felt red hot inside her as I rammed myself in and out, not bothering with long strokes but savagely fucking her, willing myself to come.

I could not hold back and emptied myself into her in a dozen violent thrusts. She cried out that she was coming too and held me inside her as she wept and shook. We both stared at each other almost amazed how quickly we had both achieved our orgasms. We kissed again and my hands wandered to her breasts. I could feel the encrusted lace detail of her bra through her school blouse and sweater and was eager to see and feel more.

"Tom," she said, as if it were my real name, "I told the other girls that you would sleep with us tonight."

"I realise that," I said, "So what is it you are trying to tell me?" 

"Nothing really, except that was my first time," she had a look of desperation and sadness and I kissed her again, helping her up. 

I wondered how many other girls in her class I would have the chance of fucking that night and I secretly smiled a lecherous smile as we walked up to her dormitory.

(Continued in part 17) 



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 17



 (It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it. 

I had decided not to get the local police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to 'Peeping Toms'. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and tethered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards at each corner of the room. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part seventeen of my sorry tale.)

*

"Tom," Barbara said, as if it were my real name, "I told the other girls that you would sleep with us tonight."

"I realise that," I said, "So what is it that you are trying to tell me?" 

"Nothing really, except that was my first time," she had a look of desperation and sadness and I kissed her again, helping her to her feet.

I looked at her closely. Her face was amazing. Her teeth sparkled as she stared down at me. My face was roughly at the same height as her shoulders. Everything about her appeared fresh and wholesome. I ran my eyes up and down her body. Her eyes were dark brown and large; her neck was long and slim and she wore a tiny pendant crucifix above the collar of her open necked blouse. Her grey sweater was pushed out by firm young breasts with prominent nipples which jutted enticingly towards me.

"What are you doing? You terrible man," she exclaimed as she watched my eyes roving over her at close quarters. 

She shuffled forward and looked down her nose at me almost giggling because she felt both embarrassed and self conscious.

"What are you doing? Am I being inspected? You are worse than the housemistress checking that our uniforms are clean and ironed," she said nudging me with her black stockings. 

I looked down at her pleated skirt which brushed against the opening in my now gaping dressing gown. My penis slowly stiffened and stood out at right angles to my thin puny body so that it touched the rough woolen tartan material of her uniform. Immediately the sensitive exposed head jerked in approval. I lifted up the hem of her skirt and wrapped some pleats around my erection and began to masturbate. The roughness of the material felt both stimulating and painful. My testicles tightened and I closed my eyes enjoying the sweet sensation. As I did so she moved even closer and we kissed slowly and languorously savouring each movement of our tongues with delved and probed each others mouths.

After many minutes Barbara stopped kissing me and put both her hands on my shoulders and firmly, but gently, pushed me downwards. I knelt at her feet with my head roughly at the height of the waistband of her skirt.

"You know what to do now don't you," she said, as I understood where she wanted me to place my head. 

I squatted down and eased my head under her skirt and petticoat. The enclosed space smelled of her natural fragrance mixed with the aroma of my semen and sweat. I slurped my way between her hairy labia which were still distended from our recent avid and enthusiastic lovemaking. Her lips still drooled with semen as I parted them and slipped my tongue inside her. Above me she shook down her underslip and pleats and I felt the heaviness of her plaid skirt pushing me even further into the centre of her sensitivity. Once again I was in the familiar world of a young woman's underskirt. 

Within a few minutes she was groaning and moaning unintelligibly, her petticoat and heavy pleats shaking around me, her lace edging thrashing around my neck and shoulders. Her stocking tops, tensioned tightly by her frilly suspenders, swept over my cheeks. My penis dripped precum as it strained at the erotic sights, smells and sounds which surrounded me under her warm skirt.

She grasped my head brutally through her skirt, and held me in a vice-like grip against her genitals, as she jerked herself over my face, over and over again. I felt that I was being dragged about as If I were arabbit being shaken by a dog. She bent her knees, shuddered, and then swore loudly. Her upper-crust voice appeared to fill the echoing stairwell. Her orgasm seemed to go on and on and my nostrils could feel the tiny muscular ripples flowing through her vagina. 

All of a sudden it was over and I re-emerged from under her skirt sweating and exhausted. Barbara Rippingdale gulped in air as she gradually calmed down and resumed her seat on the stairs staring at me. She laughed and shook me by the hand as if to thank me. I judged that this appeared a rather formal gesture, but reciprocated her appreciation with a kiss to her fingers. My legs wobbled visibly as I regained my footing and composure.

She led me up to the dormitory and I was greeted with nineteen faces staring at me in wide eyed surprise.

"You've brought him then Babs," said one of them and I noticed them smile then look at the gaping front of my dressing gown where my erection bobbed about as if it had a mind of all it's own.

In the cosy lamplight I noticed that there were twenty double beds edging both sides of the long wide room and a central space in the middle. It was similar to the French girl's dormitory, but there were two old leather settees facing each other in the centre of the room, with a small rug in between, creating an intimate seating area piled with journals and newspapers. 

"Hey Jill have you read this?" said one of them, brandishing a teenage magazine. 

"What is it?" said Victoria Gregory, lifting her skirt to scratch an itch on her thigh. 

I glimpsed a flash of cream coloured underslip and black stocking, at the same time my erection rose to horizontal level and bounced around looking extremely pleased with itself.

"Take the flasher's dressing gown off, " said Christine Forrester. 

The girl who had several dildos, now appeared to take charge.

I now stood completely naked amongst these tall beauties as Susan Laing read out an article from 'Girls Untamed' magazine........

"Skin Toners, New Advances. It has recently been discovered that facial skin can be rejuvenated and toned by the application of testosterone. This may be sourced from the testes of males of the species and from the semen and seminal fluid ejaculated from sexually mature men....blah, blah blah........ Science has shown that only a few globules of semen massaged vigorously around the fine loose skin found about the eye sockets and 'crow's foot smile lines' tensions the skin and nourishes the natural collagen........blah. blah blah...... This can produce beneficial and noticeable improvements to the appearance and tonal quality of the female complexion," she concluded looking around her for a reaction, if not approval.

Several girls giggled and looked in my direction. I glanced back at them and then turned beetroot red as I registered the true significance and meaning of the article.

Before I could react, I was being pulled to the far end of the room, away from the doorway, and thrown onto a bed on my back. The duvet was pulled from under me and a pair of nylon encased knees pinned me down. 

I struggled but other hands held on to me and eventually tethered me down tightly to the bed using a collection of belts and scarves. 

Miss Dodd, who sat astride my chest, told me to calm down and keep quiet or else they would complain to the headmistress who would then call the police. She told me not to bite.

I heaved and strained one last time but couldn't move. It was no use, and I felt vulnerable and puny in my naked state. I had been tied down so that my head was at the foot end of the vast double bed and my limbs were spread-eagled to all four bedposts. Once again I was at the mercy of twenty long-legged nineteen year old school girls. The outlook appeared very bleak, very bleak indeed.

"Well 'Flasher'," Miss Judith Dodd, my captor, said to me sliding forward, "You know what we are going to do to you don't you?"

"You're probably going to extract some semen from me I suppose," I said trying to put on my 'little boy lost' look so that she would take pity on me. I tried the 'puppy dog face' look on the other girls who now surrounded the bed but none appeared to display any sign of mercy, and all looked eager to try the new skin treatment.

"Correct first time, 'Flash-boy'," she said in a satisfied manner. 

Judith slid forward so that my nose was rammed into the damp crotch of her white nylon lace edged panties. As soon as I breathed in the intense musky sweetness of her feminine odour my penis elongated to maximum length. I heard several girls say that they were surprised at its length for one so skinny and short. 

"Goodbye Flasher you will not need to see anything for a while," said my female schoolgirl captor sliding even further forward so that her knees splayed across my shoulders and my cheeks were gripped by her thighs above her stockings.

I could only just breathe, and that was mainly through my mouth. Judith pulled her flared frilly white waist-slip over me so that I could only see shadows moving above me. She then dropped her pleated tartan school skirt down around her covering my face and upper torso from view. Everything went very dark and quiet and I could only vaguely make out the conversation around me.

"We need paper cups, or some small empty bottles," I heard someone say. Then I heard "Who has done this before?" and "My brother showed me once," said a girl with a Scottish accent.

"Yukth," said someone with a lisp, it must have been Samantha Skirving-Thorpe, "I'dth rather holdth the cup ifth you don't mindth." She said in her childlike voice.

I lay there passively with my head beneath Miss Dodd's knee length pleats as the preparations went on around me in the dormitory. Then I became aware of several girls sitting on the bed next to my exposed genitals, which had now shriveled because I felt so vulnerable. 

Gradually I felt fingers caress and fondle my penis and testicles. Around me I felt stocking clad knees brush against my legs, feet and stomach. The stroking gave way to pulling and pushing as my glans were exposed to view. The girls giggled and chatted as my penis extended to its maximum length.

"Oh, wow it's huge," said one of them and it seemed to jerk upwards out of their hands. I must admit I was straining it to make it even longer. 

The scene must have appeared very erotic. Here was me, naked, tied, spread-eagled on my back on a large double bed at the far end of the dormitory. Sitting on my face, wearing her school uniform, was a nineteen year old with exceptionally long legs wearing black nylon stockings, with her pleated knee-length tartan skirt and white lace-edged petticoat spread over me. Between my naked thighs another nineteen year old knelt and cupped my balls. Next to me, on each side of the bed, two other girls sat and milked me with their long cool fingers.

I savoured the delightful experience jerking my hips in time to their wanking. It was not long before I was on the home straight, my breath sucking at Judith's knickers which were now oozing vagina juice over my nose and lips. Not long after, a plastic cup was held against my stomach as the milking became more and more intense. Soon I could hold back no longer and I jerked my body violently off the bed as eight powerful thrusts released long strings of semen into the cup. 

"We've got some, we've got some, great work girls, that's enough for us four, now it's someone else's turn," said Judith hauling herself off me. 

Another four girls appeared around me. I recognised them as Elizabeth Chadburn, Phoebe Clifford-Singfield, Danielle Holbrook and Pamela Meakin. The latter stood out as she was 6 foot 5 inches and was possibly the tallest girl in the school.

"Who's going to sit on his face?" asked Danielle.

"I will," said Pamela, clearly realising that there would probably be more room for her long legs at the foot end of the bed where my face was. 

She flicked back the fringe of her long curly hair and hitched up her skirt and petticoat. 

Next to me a large foot appeared on the bed. The black nylon reinforcements on her toes and ankles of her stockings suddenly appeared unexpectedly erotic. Naturally my penis began to stir again and extend across my stomach. The bed swayed and bounced as she swung her other foot over my head and squatted on my face. I stared around me almost in panic as she knelt, than sat, on my chest, her heavy thighs above her stockings gripping my face. 

She nudged forward so that my nostrils were pushed firmly into her cream broderie and eyelet lace panty crotch. Once again I felt trapped, this time under a giantess of formidable proportions. She smiled down at me as she flipped her cream nylon broderie and eyelet lace underskirt over my face then dropped her heavy pleats over me, cutting out any further views of the room or my captors. 

Within the tight confines of her skirt her odours were quite intense. Her panties smelled strongly of warm stale urine with only a hint of vagina. She pulled her skirt hem further around me so that I was well and truly concealed and restrained.

In the meantime I noticed that the bed rocked and swayed about as others gathered around my penis. I felt a paper cup pushed over my sensitive knob end and young thin fingers scratching and clawing at my inner thighs and testicles. My penis stiffened to its maximum extension and once again I began to breathe in the sweet, savoury smell of fresh vaginal juices issuing from Miss Pamela Meakin's dribbling cunt.

A pair of hands then started wanking me. To be honest I had not made a complete recovery from my first 'semen donation' so I was not really ready to expel any more spermatozoa into the waiting receptacle. 

I think the girls were being rather optimistic to expect 'production line volumes' of skin treatments available on tap, as it were.

"Come on Pam. You've got to make him sexier," said one of them, clearly eager to rest her hands after ten minutes of furious milking. 

Pamela, above me, knelt up, so that light and fresh air suddenly streamed underneath her skirt. I stared up at her cream panties which were now quite damp. Her suspenders were exceptionally long and also trimmed with broderie and eyelet lace. I realised that there were actually six metal suspender clips all tensioned, and adjusted, for maximum length.

I stared hypnotised by the sheer beauty of her elegant long legs and expensive looking lingerie.

Her hands appeared under her skirt and untied a ribbon above her left hip. She moved her hands to her right hip and untied the other ribbon. In one sweeping movement her panties were off and her skirt and petticoat shaken down around me again. She knelt down again and pushed her vaginal opening and pubic hair into my nose. The smell was even more intense and I lapped at her, and licked her, as if my life depended upon it. I delved into her bush with my tongue and exposed her clitoral hood.

My face gradually became slimy as her juices flowed over me. The atmosphere under her skirt smelled purely of sex, and I felt intoxicated by it. Her damp hair tickled my nostrils and I stifled a sneeze. From above me I could hear her breathing become more and more laboured as my clitoral stimulation continued. Her hands gripped my head and pulled it forward into her as she slid further over me. Her movements became more and more urgent and pronounced and I felt as if my head once again was a mere masturbatory aid. It was as if my head was dismembered and bobbing around on a choppy sea, as my skull was pulled this way and that, over and over again.

Her muscular thighs, above her stockings, held my cheeks as her inner-most suspender clips brushed my temples as she threshed around above me clearly nearing her orgasm. 

Meanwhile at the other end of the bed Phoebe Clifford-Singfield was wanking me as if she were milking a cow, except ten times faster, or so it seemed. 

From out of nowhere Pamela's orgasm hit me. A great wave of shuddering, juddering and swearing announced its approach as my head was rocked viciously backwards and forwards, completely at the mercy of this ruthless creature. 

Suddenly she stopped, and I felt her shaking and shivering as a huge emotional discharge welled up inside her and exploded in lots of 'yes, yes, yes, and yeses'. 

At the same moment I released seven powerful thrusts full of semen into the paper cup and the girls all cheered. I lay back gasping staring face-to-face at Miss Meakin's sopping labia. She lay back, almost squashing my genitals, and slowly swung her limbs off me. She retrieved her knickers and wiped my face with them before retiring to the bathroom. I felt completely and utterly drained physically, if not emotionally, once again.

It must have been getting quite late and I was vaguely aware of the school clock chiming ten o'clock in its tower on the roof. 

I looked around and the girls were trying out the new skin conditioner. It appeared that they had enough to keep them going. My latest offering was passed around and little dabs were applied to their cheeks and massaged in. No one appeared to mind that the 'secret formula' originated from between my legs.

Some of the girls were changing into their nightwear and I was treated to various strip-tease shows from every corner of the room. I had never seen so many firm pert breasts, well not since the communal shower with the French girls, but that seemed ages ago.

"We need one more...err....squirt ....of...err you know what," said Lucy Gratton-Smith, the fragile blonde doll-like creature, rather nervously and apologetically.

I told her to help herself as I couldn't move with all the belts and scarves holding me down. She sat on the edge of the bed and smiled in a self-conscious way at me as she toyed with my knob and balls. Once again I felt that I couldn't provide her with the goods as I was still seriously recovering from the second milking. She fiddled about with my genitals really not knowing what she was doing. I could imagine Christine Forrester making short work of the situation as she had appeared the most sexually experienced of Class 2A.

Lucy gradually worked out what to do and slowly but surely my penis began to rise again. Behind me, on the bed, two knees suddenly appeared to each side of my head. It was Susan Laing. She told me to open my mouth and she allowed a long drool of saliva to flow from her lips and land on my tongue.

"Yuk," I thought, as I swallowed, but then I felt my penis strangely stiffen.

"Again, open," she ordered me as she summoned up more saliva and deposited it in my mouth. 

Two other girls, Deborah Bramley and Karren Brittan looked on, intrigued. I lay there seemingly the receptacle of Susan's spitting and drooling while my stiff penis jerked about wildly like a caged animal within the fragile fingers of Miss Lucy Gratton-Smith. 

Christine Forrester suddenly appeared and pushed Lucy out of the way. She spat in her hands and began violently wanking me. There was no time to summon up my strength and I just watched her methodically jerking me off. She was like a paid mercenary, efficient and ruthless. 

Up and down, twisting, pulling, massaging, manipulating she continued. Up and down like a piston went my foreskin over my glans After five solid minutes of brutal milking I felt semen rising, and she did too. There was no cup. There was no cup?

"Lucy, open your mouth and don't swallow," she said pulling Lucy by the hair so that her face was two inches away from my penis tip.




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 17



"Ouch, oooh, Chrissie you rotter," screamed Lucy struggling to get away. She opened her mouth and shut her eyes.

Poor Lucy did not know what was happening, as in the next second I had pumped nine loads of semen into her small delicate mouth.

"Whatever you do, do not bloody spit or swallow it," said Miss Forrester searching for a paper cup.

She found an empty one and dashed back.

"Spit it in here Lucy, Good old Lucy," she said and smirked at me in a cat like way.

I only hoped that they had had enough skin-lotion for the time being, as I had no more..

(Continued in part 18)  



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 18



 (It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it. 

I had decided not to get the local police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to 'Peeping Toms'. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and tethered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards at each corner of the room. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part eighteen of my sorry tale.)

*

Saturday Night in the Dormitory

*

That evening, following my third semen donation, I had a long relaxing shower until I heard the 'lights out' bell. I had no idea where I was to sleep, or rather I should say, with whom I would sleep. The girls seemed disinterested in my predicament and continued reading their books and magazines by the light of their bedside lamps, or were cutting their toenails or checking their stockings for ladders. I sat on one of the settees in the middle of the room with my old dressing gown around my shoulders and contemplated a night shivering on the leather upholstery.

The girls switched off their lamps one by one until only the pendant lights in the middle of the room and doorway remained lit. I watched as these went out and the room was plunged into darkness except for the bathroom light which shone through the partly open door. All around me I could hear whispering and watched little torches shining from under duvets. Out of the blackness two pairs of hands grabbed me and tore off my dressing gown; they guided me back naked to a bed which was half way along one side of the long room. One of the girls got in, and I slipped in behind her, then the other girl slid in and pulled the king-size duvet over us all. In the darkness we tried to hold our breath but clearly we were all too excited.

Out of the gloom a soft pair of lips met mine and we kissed. Her tongue touched mine then delved and probed my mouth as I stared into her big bright eyes. She turned out to be Deborah Bramley, as in the half light I could see her thick ash-blonde hair, which fell across her face and pillow. 

We kissed languorously at first, but as time went on it became wilder and wilder. She was on top of me, her legs apart and her nylon nightgown pulled up over her breasts. As we kissed and caressed she grabbed my face with both hands and literally smothered me with kisses everywhere. Needless to say my penis stiffened and strained between her open legs. The tufts of her coarse pubic hair stimulated my exposed knob end, almost to the point of being painful.

Between kisses I glanced at the figure next to me and noticed that she had also pulled her nightdress up over her bosom and was massaging her nipples. Her eyes caught mine and she smiled. It was Linda Lander-Metcalfe, the nineteen year old who moved like a catwalk model. She stuck her tongue out at me and moved it about in a slow circular fashion and smiled again. She glanced downwards, licked her lips and did the same thing again. I took this to mean that she would like me to tongue her between her legs, but I was mistaken.

While struggling with Deborah, Linda slid down the bed, her face disappeared from view. Deborah moved to one side and I felt Linda's hair against my stomach and thighs. Her feet suddenly appeared on the pillow next to me and I realised she had turned right round so that her head was somewhere near her groin.

She dragged me downwards so that my face was further towards the middle of the bed. I noticed that Deborah had joined her beneath the quilt and now I felt more hair brushing over my stomach and thighs. Another pair of feet appeared on the pillow above me. Linda swung her foot over me and straddled my face kneeling almost flat over me. From my new position I felt her slide her buttocks further over me so that my nose and mouth were pushed against her waiting vagina. With certain deftness she slid my erection into her mouth and commenced sucking.

"Oh my goodness, fucking-hell" I thought as her warm tongue and lips stimulated me in a way that I was not used to. Her tongue felt smooth but also slightly rough as she sucked, lapped and licked. 

Linda's arse hung over my face and smelled somewhat fetid but I licked it just the same. With my hands free I kneaded her heavy globes and watched the flesh glide under my fingers. Her derriere was an amazing shape. Even in the half light I could admire its aesthetics.

My penis was so stiff, from the incessant sucking and licking from Linda's almost prehensile tongue, that I thought it would turn itself inside out. I felt another hand grasp my shaft. Deborah joined Linda and began licking and nibbling it. 

Her mouth felt slightly larger and cooler than Linda's, as my erection slipped inside. They passed my penis backwards and forwards, as one would suck while the other licked my balls, and vice versa, for what felt like half an hour. In the meantime my tongue remained up Linda's glistening fanny which lay open over my face.

In the darkness I heard a voice. 

"Take this," said Christine Forrester handing me a paper cup. "Make sure they don't swallow any of it."

The others clearly heard what was said as they both suddenly began licking my penis in unison, running their tongues up and down it, and flicking its exposed tip. 

Linda's mouth was soon sucking me with powerful tongue and mouth movements Very soon I was on the brink of another orgasm. I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes and clenched my buttocks and reached down and held her head in place. Now it was my turn to use someone's face for sexual stimulation. I let out a low grunt as I flooded her mouth with nine quick jerks of semen. Immediately she knelt up and got off the bed. I handed her the cup and she spat into it. 

I smiled and said "Bravo," and watched her run off to the bathroom, presumably to wash out her mouth.

I felt very pleased with myself for providing more 'skin lotion' for the dormitory. 

Before I knew what was happening two girls dressed in long cotton nightdresses grabbed my wrists and pulled me over to another bed on the opposite side of the room. I heard Deborah gasp with disapproval but it was too late I had been kidnapped.

As soon as we were under the vast duvet they both began kissing me at the same time.

It felt quite crowded having two tongues in my mouth and their long hair draped over my face, neck and shoulders. 

Two hands stimulated my sticky penis until it was ramrod stiff again. I needed some time to recover for my next orgasm so I lay back and enjoyed their attentions. I realised that it was Kate Randall and Jennifer Smith who were now driving me delirious with pleasure. I opened my legs as wide as possible and they slid their legs over mine pinning me to the bed. 

My hands caressed their pubic hair and bit by bit I prized open their labia. They turned on their backs on each side of me licking and nibbling my ears. Very soon all three of us had reached a plateau of excruciating pleasure. Jennifer decided that it was her job to 'harvest the skin lotion' as she put it, breathing heavily into my ear. Down she went and slid my huge shaft into her prim schoolgirl mouth. Kate whispered things to me, urging me to come.

"Petticoats, frilly ones with lots of lace, suspender belts and long black seamed stockings," she continued clearly aware of my fetish for women's underwear. "Lovely lacy French-knickers trimmed with lots of flouncy lace......" she purred in my ear.

"Here's another fucking cup," yelled Christine as I came in Jennifer's mouth. Up she popped and spat into it.

"That's mine by rights," said Christine, "as you two evidently weren't prepared." 

Jennifer appeared disappointed as she watched her take the cup and wander back into the darkness.

"Get another one Kate," said Jennifer dragging me back onto the bed so that she could straddle my face. She swung her legs over me and dropped the hem of her nightdress as I felt Kate's slim fingers and cat-like tongue on my penis. Fifteen minutes must have passed before I once again jerked out the contents of my balls, gripping Kate's head to ensure nothing was spilled. This time she had a cup, and spat out my 'donation', and squirreled it away before Miss Forrester could claim another sample of my secret ingredient.

"Our turnth nexth," lisped Samantha Skirving-Thorpe from the next bed where she sat with Lucy Gratton-Smith. I could just make them out as I padded my way over to them. The were both wearing ludicrously young looking nightdresses, which were very short with deep flounced broderie trim. One had a large pink gingham pattern, and the other one had teddy bears printed all over it. I thought that both seemed inappropriate for nineteen year old women to wear.

I felt I was in the hands of two large marionettes, both equally unworldly and gangling. Miss Skirving-Thorpe knelt on the bed with her knees apart

" I'llth sitth on histh face Lucy and you canth make him give a fountainth," said Samantha, lifting up her nightdress while I slid my face under her delightful baby-blue teddy bears and between her legs. There in the half light. Under her nightdress I could see and smell her damp hairy cunt. I pulled her down and told her she needed a paper cup.

"Lucy, we need a cupth," she whispered so that the whole dormitory could hear. Some girls giggled and I made out one or two of them making ceiling patterns with their torches.

"Hurry up Lucy," she said in her squeaky delightful voice.

I began licking Samantha's vagina which smelled quite strongly, but not unpleasantly.

Soon Lucy was slurping my penis making odd gurgling noises without much suction. It slipped out of her mouth several times and I had to hold it for her to suck on.

To be honest I was still not sufficiently rested to make further contributions to the skincare requisites, so I lay back and enjoyed the two gawky members of the class explore and make themselves comfortable with my body. I felt in a way that I had more in common with Samantha and Lucy because I was always the odd one out when I was at school because of my lack of stature and puniness. I felt that the three of us were well matched.

I stared up Samantha's nightdress, which resembled a tent, and gawped in awe at her perfect pert breasts and prominent nipples which bobbed around beautifully above me.

Slowly my strength returned and I clasped Lucy's head firmly but gently and began jerking my penis in and out of her mouth.

"Keep your teeth out of the way and make a tight 'ooh' with your lips," I told her thrusting my hips off the bed. She did as she was told and I could see that she had also shut her eyes in readiness. 

"Don't swallow it Lucy." I reminded her, as my shaft slid between her lips more and more rapidly. Almost immediately from nowhere semen rose up my penis and spurted explosively into her mouth, as I held out the paper cup for her to spit into.

"Bleagh, yuk," she said wiping her mouth on her nightdress hem, revealing more beautiful young breasts in the process. "I never want to do that again," she told her friend.

All through the night I was passed from bed to bed. Girls generally sat on my face and sucked my willy, but one or two managed to hand wank me directly into their cups. Christine Forrester appeared always to be at hand to help if no one could quite get the hang of jerking me off. Eventually we all got to sleep but I could not remember what time it was.

*

Sunday Morning

*

It was early on Sunday morning when I finally woke up. I was aware of great pressure on my stomach and chest. In the grey dawn light I opened my eyes to find a sleeping girl lying face down on top of me; her face was resting on my face and her hair was everywhere. Her breathing was even and she was clearly enjoying a very deep slumber. She had dribbled on my cheek. Her face was so close to me that my eyes couldn't focus on her; neither could I tell who she was. It may have been Gillian Hayward but I could not me sure. Her nightdress had been pulled up to her armpits and her breasts were squashed against my chest. 

On my right another girl slept with her mouth just an inch away from my ear. Her hot breath tickled my neck, as did her long blonde hair which covered one side of my face. Her breasts were also exposed and they moved slightly in rhythm with her breathing. 

I tried to move my head to my left but another face blocked my way. This time I recognised her as Elizabeth Chadburn, the dark-skinned girl. Her tight black curls pushed against my cheek and I had to stifle a sneeze. I realised that I had woken up with a 'raging hard-on' and that I had an uncontrollable urge to pee. I wondered whether it would be best if I just woke up the three 'sleeping beauties' apologise and got up. I decide however to ease myself out my degrees, and try and prevent them from waking if possible. 

My biggest problem was with Gillian. How could I slide out from under her as she clearly was very heavy. Very gingerly I moved myself upwards initially with Gillian's full weight with me. My arms and legs strained as inch by inch I slid up. Gillian snorted then turned to one side and this allowed enough space for me to slide up. I eased up then stopped, then eased up some more so eventually I had extracted my upper torso from the pillows. I flipped the duvet up and lay it over them, trying not to cause any more disturbances. 

I eased up further and was just about to ease my thighs from between them when Gillian murmured and stirred with her face resting against my rock hard penis. Her hair was almost wrapped around the root of the shaft and it became completely stuck. I shuffled up the bed but it remained trapped. 

Gillian stirred again, this time resting her partly open mouth next to it. I looked on aghast as she appeared to yawn just as my penis jerked upwards and into it. She did not appear to have noticed that her lips were now holding my rampant member. I decided to take advantage of the situation so I allowed my mind to dwell on every lewd and lecherous situation I could imagine. The intention was to make myself 'come' by thought-process alone. I failed miserably however and decided, therefore, to extract my penis and make haste to the bathroom. 

Just as I was sliding out she gripped my balls and sucked my manhood further into her mouth, groaning incoherently. I lay there watching her cup and caress my hairy scrotum and at the same time felt her tonguing my penis gently inside her mouth. I could not tell whether she was awake or partly asleep. Was she dreaming that she was sucking someone off? Or was she pretending to be asleep? Either way I decided that I needed to 'come' in her mouth, and quickly too.

I moved my hand down and began gently wanking the root of my penis. Then I held her head as I jerked the exposed knob end backwards and forwards inside her full red lips.

Within a couple of minutes I was primed for release. I held back for as long as possible, feeling the build up of pressure of seminal fluid deep inside me. Then I let go and immediately pumped three large globules of semen into her mouth. She instantly awoke and spluttered, and fought for breath. She had indeed been asleep and appeared disorientated. Semen dripped from the corner of her mouth and Christine Forrester ran across the room with a cardboard cup and ordered her to spit.

"Come on Gill, for fuck's sake," she yelled waking up the whole dormitory. I rushed off to the bathroom and passed Miss Forrester's empty bed and noticed an object on her pillow about the size of a cucumber. It appeared that Christine Forrester had smuggled yet another dildo into the school.

When I eventually emerged from the bathroom I noticed that several were now getting dressed. Two were naked and opening wardrobe drawers and laying out clothes on their bed. Others were showering. It must have been breakfast time as there appeared to be urgency in their dressing. 

It appeared that, as it was Sunday, they were allowed to wear their own casual clothes instead of their school uniform.

I sat on one of the leather settees and surveyed the scene around me. Girls were putting on dresses and skirts of various designs, colours and materials. Many wore button-through cotton 'shirt-waisters' in pale blue, pink or mustard shades. Some wore red 'poodle skirts' as was the fashion in those days.

Lucy and Samantha wore broderie-trimmed tiered gingham dresses gathered at the waist which again appeared too young for them, and they reminded me once more of two large stumbling puppets.

I noticed gleefully that all the girls wore stockings, and flashes of suspender belts and knickers had already stirred my erection into life. The girls all were pulling on petticoats under their flared skirts and dresses. They appeared to fill the space around their legs. As they walked briskly their skirts swayed from side to side revealing lacy hems and leader line net. 

"We'll be back shortly with your breakfast,..... and more paper cups," said Barbara Rippingdale, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail.

I had wondered whether the production line for 'skin lotion' would be reestablished today and it seemed likely that it would be.

I showered and dried myself carefully, concentrating on cleaning my penis and testicles as they would be sucked, pummeled and pulled throughout the day, probably, and I wanted to feel fresh and invigorated for my ordeal. I splashed on some scent and sprayed it around my scrotum which stung terribly. Talcum powder did little to relieve the throbbing tenderness between my legs and it made me smell like a waiting area in a whorehouse. 

From the door there appeared the sounds of laughter, high heel shoes and girlish conversations. Christine Forrester marched in with a box of paper cups. There must have been dozens of them. She walked up to me and grabbed my penis at the same time French-kissing me and pushing me towards one of the beds. I collapsed onto it with her on top of me. She immediately began masturbating me.

"Stop that Chrissie," said Barbara Rippingdale, "He needs some breakfast first." I was given two scrambled egg sandwiches and a cup of warm tea and left alone for several minutes to gather my thoughts and to muster some strength.

"We are selling your services today Mr. Flasher," announced Susan Laing in her impeccable clipped home-counties accent. "Two shillings per squirt if 'we' do it, one and sixpence if 'they' do it, and sixpence for oral pleasuring," she said pushing me back on the bed. So that there is no malarkey, we shall tie you down again."

"No, please not the ties," I spluttered, but it was too late. Miss Laing pinned me down by my shoulders and all around me young hands adjusted and attached belts and scarves, Again I was firmly tethered to the bed on my back, naked, with my head at the foot of the bed. Susan knelt off me and as she swung her leg over my head I was treated to a glimpse of tan stockings and white lacy suspenders under a pair of delicately laced French knickers.

I lay there staring up at their faces and wondered what was meant by 'selling my services'. From the stairwell another ten girls entered the room. I did not recognise their faces and was introduced to some of Class 2B, the next on Miss Wiff-Naseford's list for pleasuring. There were now thirty girls surrounding my bed, all intent on being orally pleasured or requiring a cup of 'David Shaw's Secret Formula Skin Lotion' or both. 




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 18



Two of the girls from 2B asked if they could 'have a go', as they put it. 

"So that's one 'orally pleasure' and one 'self-wank' for lotion," said Susan in a business like voice. "That's two shillings please, thank you."

I felt like a commodity, a piece of livestock literally about to be milked. Again I felt that I was just being used for pleasure and that no one was interested in me as a person.

The first girl must have been six foot two inches. She had honey-blonde hair tied back in an Alice band. She wore a lemon yellow cotton shirt-waister dress buoyed out by multi-layered bouffant net petticoats. The material crackled as she slid her hands up under her clothes and removed her knickers. As could be predicted she placed them carefully over my nostrils and she observed my penis stiffen as I breathed in her warm odours.

She was helped onto the bed and straddled my shoulders; lifting her dress and petticoat out of the way as she slid up and settled herself over my face. Her vagina was damp, fleshy and warm and immediately my tongue set to work between her lips. She dropped, and shook, her petticoat and dress over me so that everything appeared cream inside her 'underskirt world'. Above and around me the netting thrashed and rustled as she bounced in rhythm with my tongue movements. 

In the meantime I felt a paper cup being placed over my penis and a pair of hands begin to wank me furiously. After many minutes of frantic activity I understood that the newcomer was told to 'suck him off' and 'spit the contents into the cup'. 

From nowhere I felt hot breath and long hair caressing my exposed purple knob end. Cool fingers lifted my heavy erection off my stomach and into a warm soft mouth. I strained against my ties to push it further in but I couldn't. I lay back and savoured the glistening pussy on the end of my tongue and watched the frou-frou display of stiff rustling petticoats which surrounded me. After many minutes the girl above me orgasmed, her thighs almost yanking my head off. I jerked several long stringy squirts of semen into the warm mouth and heard her spit into the cup.

"Oh it's so salty and slimy, yuk," she said getting off the bed. 

Suddenly I was in daylight and the process continued again with a new pair of legs in stockings straddling my face and another pair of lips sucking my willy. My underskirt space was filled with the swishing sounds of chiffon petticoat against dark tan stockings. I continued lapping, sucking and licking at anything which was placed in front of me. 

Above me the girl wearing the pink poodle-skirt coughed out her orgasm and covered my face with sexual secretions. The atmosphere was so hot and humid and I was beginning to feel that I had little more to give. My penis felt as if it were being sucked dry as I filled up the mouth which was milking me. Five long spurts announced that I had produced more lotion which was unceremoniously spat into the awaiting container.

Another two shillings changed hands as a girl wearing a black concertina pleated skirt and pastel pink petticoat sat open-legged on my face. I slurped and salivated my way between her labia, as her fellatrix friend sucked at my engorged shaft. Twenty minutes later she came in a series of pulsating waves while I erupted into the awaiting mouth. I had nothing left and I told them so. The girls appeared disappointed and I had to point out that I needed recovery time and a lot of it. At the rate I was being milked I needed a month or two to recover.

The lunch bell sounded and I was left on my own again. I contemplated my situation and wondered what they expected me to do next. I felt as if I was completely 'shagged out' and needed sleep, lovely refreshing sleep but this was not to be.

Clattering up the stairs in high heels two giggling girls returned. It was Lucy and Samantha.

Immediately I asked them what was happening. Samantha, in her lisping voice said that the rest of the class were in the library or had gone for a walk. They sat next to me on the bed and I stared at the hems of their knee length blue gingham dresses where crisp white petticoat lace was peeping out. Samantha watched me stare at her knees and giggled. I told them to untie me but they refused and said that the other girls would be cross with them if they let me go. 

Lucy said that she and Samantha sometimes played cards and that I could join in with them. I said that I couldn't really play as my hands were tied. 

Samantha looked at Lucy then giggled. "You're noth playingth silly, you are the table," she said skipping over to her bedside cabinet and getting the cards.

I lay wondering how I could be a table but before I could ask Lucy had tucked up her dress and petticoat and had straddled my face facing my feet and placed her knicker clad buttocks over my nose. Samantha knelt between my legs and placed the deck on my stomach.

"You cut Samantha," said Lucy rearranging her dress around me so that my field of view was limited to the confines of her petticoat and gingham cotton dress. 

My penis appeared to be part of the game. It was a sort of game of 'Snap' or 'Pairs' but with unusual rules. At every new hand the girls would change places so that Samantha's bottom was on my face and I breathed in her piquant odours trapped in her knickers, then it was Lucy's bottom on me and so the game continued in this bizarre fashion. Each change over revealed more of their wonderful flouncy underwear.

As the afternoon progressed the girls remarked that they felt far too hot in their panties so both decided to remove them. I suppose that I was partly responsible for their predicament as I was straining to breathe beneath them. Samantha got off me and tugged down her delightfully frilly white knickers and kicked them onto the adjacent bed. She hitched up her frilly white petticoat and resumed her place on my face, spreading her gingham flounces around her and over me.

I sensed that Lucy had slipped off her knickers too. 

Above me Samantha's sweaty buttocks moulded themselves to my face as she pressed down with all her weight. I struggled even more for breath so she gradually adjusted her posture so that she was comfortable and that I could breathe. Two minutes later it was Lucy sitting on my face with her delicate lacy pink petticoat spread all over me. By now my penis was rock hard. 

The cold playing cards were slapped on my stomach with some force, and fury. The game seemed to last forever and there came a point when I could not tell whether it was Lucy or Samantha who were sitting on my face. My penis strained for relief. 

These two girls appeared to ignore my erection, sliding the deck of spent cards under it to stop it sliding off. After several hands of this insane game they stood up and put on their knickers clearly no longer interested in me or their silly card game. 

I heard the school clock strike four o'clock. I was famished and longed for afternoon tea. 

(Continued in part 19)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 19



 (It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it. 

I had decided not to get the local police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to 'Peeping Toms'. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and tethered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards at each corner of the room. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part nineteen of my sorry tale.)

*

Sunday afternoon in the Dormitory

*

Samantha and Lucy appeared to wander around the room like lost sheep. I asked them if they would like to play another game. Samantha looked at me suspiciously, suspecting that I would trick her into releasing me from the ties that held me down firmly to the bed. I had not been relieved of semen for at least an hour and the last game of cards had stimulated me to the point of bursting. I was desperate to 'come' I suggested that they could take it in turns to wank me for one minute each and the person who could 'make a fountain', to quote Samantha's description of my orgasm, would win a prize.

" Whath sorth of a prize Mr.Thom?" Samantha demanded, throwing herself onto the bed. 

"Well 'Mr. Rabbit' could visit 'Mrs Rabbit' in her burrow, for a start," I suggested, and she looked at me perplexed. 

I told them to lie on the bed and take turns to squeeze the tip of my erection simultaneously pulling my foreskin backwards and forwards over my glans. 

Samantha straddled me and lay across my stomach so that her big bottom was over my chest. She placed her legs on each side of my head and pushed her derriere toward me. Her clothing slid forward to reveal her white lace-edged frilly knickers and suspenders. Her stockings were pale tan and contrasted only slightly with her beautiful smooth skin. I looked in awe at her white frilly petticoat which draped over my neck and shoulders. As I glanced down I could clearly see damp stains between her legs. It was a luscious delicious sight. 

"1, 2, 3 go," I said to them as Samantha began milking me firmly and surprisingly confidently. I glanced at the dormitory clock. One minute passed.

"Right Lucy next," I said as I felt different fingers fumbling with my huge erection. Lucy was not as skilled as Samantha and my shaft kept slipping between her fingers. I looked across the room at the clock. Another minute passed.

"Samantha's turn...now," I yelled enjoying every second of their enthusiastic pulling and tugging. Samantha certainly had the knack as I was hardly able to hold myself from spurting. Another minute went by.

"This is a nice game isn't it Sam." Said Lucy clearly enthusiastic and innocently unaware how excruciatingly pleasurable it was for me.

"Lucy's turn now," I said in encouragement. I was so near the edge of my orgasm that it only needed a few more strokes but I wanted Samantha to feel me spurt in her hand.

I stared at the damp patch, now much wider in Samantha's frilly knickers only inches from my face. Another minute of pleasure passed. 

"Samantha's turn now." I croaked staring at the clock then at her broderie edged white knickers. The milking was exquisite, I never wanted it ever to stop.

"Oooh he's shticky now," lisped Samantha noticing my pre-cum oozing out.

Samantha slid further backwards over me and opened her legs further, clearly more interested in the present game of 'fountains' than the insane game of cards She wriggled into me so that her panty clad buttocks were thrust against my face. I breathed in her aroma from her damp knickers.

"Lucy's turn now," I whispered, too aroused to speak.

"It's a thilly game but I like it," giggled Samantha, clearly unaware that I was like a time bomb ready to detonate.

"Samantha's turn....now," I said as I allowed her to stimulate me to the point of no return. I jerked my hips, stared at her fabulous arse, and then exploded, pumping out seven long strings of warm semen all over Samantha's fingers.

"It's a founthain, he's madth a founthain," I had indeed 'made a fountain'.

"Where's my prize? I want my prize," said Samantha Skirving-Thorpe looking over her shoulder at me. I told her that she had better not waste any skin lotion and the two of them slid off the bed and looked for cups.

* Sunday Dinner

* That evening, after another shower and a shave I was ready for the evening meal. Christine Forrester had several female electric razors along with her secret collection of 'marital aids'. I had the strange feeling that she perhaps hired these out to other girls in the dorm. Anyway she leant me a razor and I felt a lot more human.

Someone had found my clothes and I appeared reasonably respectable to face the school. 

Again as in previous evenings I sat on the high table with the members of the staff. I was really beginning to feel that I was the honorary resident Peeping Tom. Perhaps all Girls Finishing Schools have them, I don't know. I had to admit that I was getting rather tired with Miss Wiff-Naseford and her straps and ropes. It would make life a lot easier if I could use my hands on these girls and we would have pleasured far more in my opinion.

Celia was all over me again with her hand inside my trousers and my hand caressing her suspender clips under her skirt. She was being incredibly suggestive and again reminded me of her garden flat room number before she left. 

Miss Wiff-Naseford had different plans for me after dinner and had already singled out five girls from Class 2B, as an 'after-dinner diversion', as she put it. She had taken a half full bottle of Crozes Hermitage Blanc and a glass back to her office. There waiting outside were five six-foot nineteen year olds whom I'd never seen before. They were wearing bouffant style dresses and skirts, and because there was a chill in the air they wore cardigans over their shoulders.

"Strip off Tom, and you lot help me strap him down," said the headmistress entering her lair and once again taking control. She sipped her wine and kicked me on the shin to hurry me along.

Sheepishly I walked naked to the middle of the room, my penis completely flaccid and lifeless, and lay on the familiar carpet with my head propped up against the solid six-inch 1898 cushion to once again endure the 'punishment' devised by Miss Geraldine Maxine Bliss-Frampton, the first headmistress of the 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old'.

As I lay there on my back I watched the five girls walk around me with the various buckles, straps and ropes, Under the direction of their principal they made sure that everything was tight, and that my limbs were stretched to their limit. 

As they walked about, and over me I caught glimpses of nylon lace underskirt and seamed stocking tops. Their high heeled shoes clunked around me, and some came dangerously close to my face as they walked across me.

The drunk of a headmistress sat in her usual chair behind me, once again keen to have a ringside seat to enjoy watching her girls being orally pleasured.

"Rowena Bridges are you having a period?" shouted Miss W-N getting back into the swing of things. 

"No Miss," a girl replied stepping forward, clearly unsure of the procedure.

She was a very pretty girl with shoulder length dark brown hair. She wore a simple red striped button-through knee-length shirt-waister over dark tan stockings. She also wore brown three-inch high heel shoes. Her skirt was clearly pouffed out by several layers of net petticoat and swayed from side to side as she walked.

"Well Rowena, Mr.Peeping Tom here has kindly agreed to pleasure the whole school orally, and I do mean the whole school, not just the girls, so please take off your pants and squat on Tom's face. He'll do the rest," she said trying to aim a kick at me but missing by a mile.

Rowena lifted the back of her dress up and inserted her fingers into her waistband and down came some pale pink lacy nylon panties. She placed them to one side and straddled me facing my feet.

"No, no, no the other way round so that I can see up your skirt girl, give me strength," ranted Miss Wiff-Naseford. 

From my level on the floor I had a wonderful view of Miss. Bridges' very long legs, stockings, suspenders and petticoat. My penis rolled sideways then began to 'crawl' up my stomach straining at the glimpses of thigh and what lay nestling in between.

She placed one foot to one side of my head and the other one on the other and I peered up her skirt at her beautiful full buttocks. I licked my lips as I waited for her to lower herself onto my eager face. Her petticoat was vast. It was crammed with pink stiff netting and it crackled and swished as she steadied herself. 

She spread her knees and squatted over me. It was like having a deflated parachute land on me. I was covered in nylon net and had difficulty in seeing, or even finding, her hairy opening. She rearranged her clothing over me and there, suddenly exposed, was her gaping slit. 

The muskiness of her aroma was overwhelming. She eased forward and pushed her lower lips against mine. I nudged her with my nose and breathed in the sweetness of her fragrance. Before long Rowena Bridges' labia opened further and I slipped my tongue between them and savoured the subtle textured irregularities of her skin and lubricated portals of her vagina. I lapped at the feast in front of me penetrating as far as my tongue could explore. Above me and around me I watched her petticoat shake as she rubbed herself across my face.

I was only just aware of Miss Wiff-Naseford behind me in her low leather arm chair urging her on. "Go on Rowena, bring yourself off on him, there's a good girl," she cackled, almost in a deranged manner.

My tongue was as far up Miss Bridges as possible. Her pubic hair threshed around and over me as jerked herself backwards and forwards. After a few minutes she grabbed my head through her dress and petticoat. The sounds of crackling and threshing around me were almost deafening. Soon she was on the home straight and cried out that she couldn't take any more. 

"Oh I'm going to pee myself Miss, I can't take any more of this," she cried. 

This, clearly, was the signal for me to speed up my tonguing movements.

Her shoes gripped my cheeks as she shuddered and thrust herself rhythmically over my slime- coated face. Together we moved ever closer to her orgasm, ever closer. Her clothing around me trapped a great deal of humidity and I perspired terribly. One more thrust and jerk and she trembled, shuddered and showered me with vaginal juices. I felt the tiny muscular waves in her vulva as her orgasm overtook her and eventually left her.

Once again I had pleasured one of Miss W-N's 'gals'.

Rowena stood up slowly, clearly not used to squatting for any length of time. I heard her knees crack and admired her legs once more as she stepped over me.

"Miss Wiff-Naseford, that was the best experience I have ever had," she said smiling at her inebriated principal teacher, while pulling up her knickers.

"Oh that's alright girl, that's what the Tom's for, to pleasure us women between our legs; isn't that correct Tom," she slurred, launching another futile kick at my head. Fortunately she missed and fell off her chair and had to be helped up by Miss Bridges.

Once she had regained her composure she summoned the next young lady.

" Oh yes, Hannah Jackson, step forward, and if you aren't having a period pull down your knickers," she said refilling her wine glass.

A rather prim looking girl, at least six foot one inch tall walked purposefully across the room. She wore her black hair in a bun and wore thick lensed spectacles which made her look like a librarian. She also wore a high necked blouse, pale blue cardigan and calf length A-line skirt in a thick grey tweed material. 

She confirmed to the 'resident harridan' that she was not having her period and pulled her skirt up to reveal a long cream coloured underslip and grey nylon stockings tensioned by a cream coloured suspender belt. I noticed that her underwear was plain and not ornamented with lace. She pulled down a pair of plain cream French knickers which appeared stained in the crotch which made me wonder whether her personal hygiene might be in question. I also noticed that her low heeled shoes appeared old-fashioned.

"Right Hannah step over the Tom and sit on his face, and leave the rest to him dear," said the slightly comatose head teacher, glass in hand.

Hannah had a hawk-like expression and sneered at me as she placed one foot then stamped down her other foot on each side of my head. She looked a fearful sight standing with her legs apart above me. I stared up her skirt into the gloom, past her grey stockings at the black bristling hair which I was just about to lick.

I watched as she stared down at me and brought her ankles together, gripping my head where it lay on the narrow solid pillow. 

It hurt and I yelled "Ouch."

Above me her legs parted and her knees bent and I watched as her skirt and petticoat dropped over me and I was faced by her slit, just inches from my face. She smelled of urine; it was horrendous. Reluctantly I touched her opening with the tip of my tongue and she instantly reacted by sliding forward onto my face so that my nose was rammed between her labia. The stench was appalling.

My main aim was to 'pleasure' Hannah Jackson as quickly as possible and extract my head from beneath her clothing before I passed out from the intensity of the ghastly smell. She, however, wished to take her time and began wiping her vagina backwards and forwards over my face in vigorous jolting sliding movements, pulling her clitoris alternately over my nose and chin. 

I lay there, beneath her, trying not to breathe. I snorted between passes, gulping in air quickly and almost trying to avoid her slimy fleshy flaps which she dragged across my face over and over again. The whole experience disgusted me but at the same time I noticed that my penis had become rock hard again. I craved relief but of course there was no way I could masturbate. I could only watch Miss Jackson's genitalia sliding over me, willing her to hurry up.

"Yes, yes, oooh yes, yes, fantastic ooh, yes, yes," she chirped, in time with her jerking. Soon she was moving quicker and quicker. Her petticoat crackled as it discharged static electricity. I felt as if my face was going to be pulled off my head as her movements became more furious. 

By now my face was covered in her sickly sexual secretions which smelled less of urine and more of musk.

"Yes, yes, yes, y, y, y, y, yes," she stuttered. She appeared to have a sexual stammer.

"Oh please finish, for goodness sake," I blurted as she bounced violently on my face.

Her petticoat, suspenders and stockings shook around me and everything appeared as a blur. The air under her skirt still smelled dreadful.

"Yes....yes.....yes...Yes," she screeched as she eventually 'came' holding onto my head with a vice-like grip. "YES...yeeeees," she wept and everything went quiet. I nudged her off me and frantically gasped for oxygen.

I fell back exhausted and monitored the constant flow of vaginal spendings which dripped over my face and onto the pillow. I thought that I could only just survive this ordeal. My throbbing member was positively seeking relief, twitching feverishly against my stomach.

She hauled herself of me and wiped my face with her soiled knickers. It was terrible.

I heard the familiar click, click, click sound of more high heels strutting across the floor towards me. An amazingly curvy girl strode up to me, her hips swinging from side to side. 

She had red hair and a magnetic smile. She smirked self consciously at me as her wide flared skirt flicked from side to side. She wore a black cotton top with long sleeves. Her skirt had a bold black and white floral design printed on it and looked crisp and starched. 

From my low angle I noticed some hints of lace from her petticoats peeping beneath the wide gathered folds of her hem. She also wore black patent leather four inch stilettos and my penis extended further at the sight of her cruel looking heels.

"It's Laura Hamilton isn't it, and how are your parents? good good," said the headmistress without waiting for an answer.

"They are fine Miss, and in case you were wondering I am not having a period," she said in a very broad Edinburgh accent. 

My penis perked up at the sound of her sexy Scottish voice.

"Good, good, now down with your pants, and you know the rest girl," said Miss Wiff-Naseford finishing off the bottle of wine.

Laura pulled up her skirt and petticoat and turned her back to me so that I could watch her sliding her white lacy French knickers over her buttocks, past the tops of her black seamed stockings and down to her knees. She dropped her skirt hem and waddled over to me keeping her knees apart. I understood now what she intended to do and my penis strained further in anticipation. As I guessed she placed her shoes on each side of my face then brought her knees together and let her knickers fall on my face.

"Well done Laura, that's perked up the Tom, now let's see some face-sitting young lady," said the demented old trout sitting to my rear.

Above me I stared up in wonderment at her thighs and stockings. Her crisp multi-tiered white nylon petticoat beneath her flared skirt seemed to hang above me like a huge fluffy cloud. She kicked her knickers to one side and I felt one of her spike heels graze my cheek.

I took in the view up her skirt. I admired the way her buttocks curved outwards and created a petticoated underspace around her legs. I felt drawn towards the red curls which towered over me. She shuffled about spreading her legs and slowly sat on my face. Instantly everything went dark and silent and I became aware of the very strong musky sweetness which exuded from her vagina. She shuffled forward so that my face was pressed against her pubic hair. I couldn't help myself and pushed my nose into her as far as it would go. I felt her cool fleshy flaps grip my nostrils as she tightened her muscles. I savoured and languished in being close to her sexuality and breathed in her perfume, again and again.

On her toes and heels she rocked herself over me as I stuck out my tongue and licked her clitoral area. I glanced around and took in all the intricate transparent folds of her petticoat and exquisite lace detailing which shimmied and shook over me. From inside her wide flounced underslip I also studied the elaborate floral pattern of her skirt which shone through the white nylon. My penis strained to its absolute limit as I stared at all this femininity. 

She cooed and mewed in pleasure as she pushed herself towards her climax. Once again I felt as if my face was merely providing a slippery surface over which women masturbated. For several minutes she made use of me until her rocking turned to fierce jerking and once again my head felt as if it was being ripped off my shoulders. 

"Oh, oh, oh yes, yes," she whispered as I watched her underwear thrashing around me in the confined space.

My penis felt painfully stiff as I drank in her aroma and licked her secretions. Over and over again she slid her labia against my nose and lips. Her hooded clitoris stood out and I licked it at every pass. Soon she was pushing down on me, almost bouncing on my face. I hoped she would soon finish as I was drowning and my neck ached.




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 19



"Yes," bounce," Yes," bounce, "Yes," bounce, ,"Oh yes," bounce, she continued. I felt I was in really serious trouble and stared helplessly at the base of her stomach and waistband of her suspenders and petticoat as they moved like a blur above me.

I was in pain and this Scottish six-footer seemed to take forever. Eventually Miss Wiff-Naseford told me to hurry up and 'finish her off'. I licked her like fury whenever her clitoris was within reach but her jerking and bouncing beneath her skirt was too rapid.

Then, out of the blue, she orgasmed. In her strong deep Edinburgh accent she screamed and cursed and collapsed.

Laura lay spread-eagled on her back, panting. Her shoes and ankles were wrapped round my neck and I stared down at her, enjoying the lewd view of her open legs framed by her dishevelled petticoat and upturned flared skirt. Her black stockings contrasted with her white petticoat. Her vaginal opening oozed juice. My penis lay squashed under her and I was anxious for her to move so that I could breathe.

"That will be all Laura, thank you," said the headmistress throwing the girl's knickers to her. She missed of course and the white lacy garment landed on my face. Laura wiped my face with them and stood up, swinging her skirt over my head allowing me one last view, before she clattered back to join her classmates by the door. 

"Next please, oh yes, it's Edwina Connor isn't it. Periods this month?"

"No Miss, I'm quite clean down below," replied another six-foot tall nineteen year old.

"Good, good, now step forward and proceed," she said.

The familiar clicking sound of high heels announced the approach of a blonde haired beauty. Miss Connor wore an autumn dress in a thick woollen fabric, dark mustard in colour with a flared A-line calf-length skirt and a wide patent leather belt. She wore pale stockings and mustard shoes. She looked so smart and chic and reminded me of a Parisian model. As she walked her hips flicked her skirt up to reveal tantalising glimpses of lemon yellow petticoats. She walked like a model too, seemingly able to lean back from her waist and place one foot exactly in line with the other. 

At my side she swung around quickly and her heavy dress twirled over me. I stared up at her petticoat which was made up of tier upon tier of transparent deep lace edged net.

She pulled up her skirt at the back and slid a pair of cream coloured French knickers down to her knees. She stepped out of them and threw them on the floor. My heart beat faster at the prospect of having my head under her vast skirt. She smiled at me and Miss Wiff-Naseford, showing her perfect teeth and full red lips.

Miss Connor took her time straddling me and teased me by walking around my head but not actually standing over me. My eyes followed the underside of her skirt hem as she restrained her laughter. My penis once again extended as far as my foreskin would allow.

Finally, towering above me, this giantess placed one of her four inch stilettos on one side of my face and swung the other one over and placed it next to my cheek. I lay there watching her pull her skirt and petticoat up as she squatted over me. She shifted forward until she felt her damp pubic area against my face, and then dropped her heavy clothing over me.

I was immediately plunged into a darkened world full of swishing sounds. It was so quiet beneath her skirt. The thick material appeared to exclude all light and sounds. If it wasn't for her smelly hairy cunt resting on my face I could have quietly fallen asleep. She jerked me with her orifice and I set to work on her clitoris. 

After fifteen long minutes of arduous intensive tonguing, her violent jerking and screams announced her orgasm to the room and woke Miss Wiff-Naseford from another of her alcohol induced slumbers.

As she stood up, I emerged into the bright lights and deafening world of the head teachers study once more. Again my neck felt sore and I was in need of a rest, or even just a drink. My saliva glands felt very dry. 

The next girl was Janet Parker who was a thin willowy girl with very long, straight mousey hair. She had protruding teeth and spoke with a Welsh accent. Her clothing consisted of a red polo neck sweater, which emphasised her small breasts and a flared pleated knee-length skirt over dark brown stockings. She wore sensible low-heeled brogues. She clunked over to me and stood next to my head. I could see that she wore a black lacy petticoat.

"Are you having a period Janet?" said the snoozing headmistress, her eyes hardly open.

"Yes Miss and it's my first day," she replied as my penis began to diminish in size. 

"Well in that case you are dismissed, all of you are dismissed, and on your way out please ask my secretary to come in," Amelia Wiff-Naseford said, gesturing wildly.

From my place on the floor I watched the door close briefly then Miss Celia Raines walked in and around me, staring at my nakedness and particularly my flaccid penis.

She helped her head teacher onto her feet and supported her as they both staggered towards the door. I looked at her for help and she told me that she would return after she had managed to get Miss Wiff-Naseford to her rooms on the floor above. 

I lay there and looked about the study. It was a depressing space, full of old dusty bookshelves and heavy leather chairs and settees. I imagined the last time this room had been used to punish a Peeping Tom. The headmistress said that it had been in 1911.

I pictured the room full of prim Edwardian schoolgirls, wearing calf-length skirts and black cotton stockings. I could see them all squatting, one by one, on the upturned face of some poor local lad who had wandered into the grounds by mistake. 

Maybe he was a birdwatcher or poacher, who knows. 

I imagined him struggling beneath their petticoats, his fettered hands yearning to masturbate as vagina after vagina was wiped over his face. I could imagine how he felt and my heart went out to him. 

Celia returned and walked over to me.

"Miss Wiff-Naseford has asked me to look after you tonight Mr.Tom, or Mr.David Shaw, or whatever you like to be called." 

She stood over me with her legs apart and deliberately gave me a view up her skirt. It was a loose tartan box-pleated skirt which ended just below the knee. She stepped over me and wiggled her hips and winked. I stared up at her white petticoat, lacy suspenders and dark brown stockings straining to see her knickers. She stepped over me in exaggerated slow motion and I watched the white gusset of her panties widen as she squatted over me pulling her skirt aside. She hovered above me and I became captivated by the damp patch which was clearly growing larger by the second. She was like a bitch on heat. 

She winked again playfully and told me that I looked sexy. 

Slowly she stood up and stepped aside and placed her shoe on my rock-hard erection. She pushed down on it and ground her sole into it. It felt deliciously painful. She asked me whether I wanted to stay in the office all night or whether I would prefer to stay in her flat. I, of course, told her that I could not refuse the latter.

She untied me, and threw the straps and ropes into a pile near the window. She held my penis and led me naked along the north corridor towards her garden flat.

"What about my clothes," I ventured, somewhat worried about my lack of modesty. 

"Well you won't need those until the morning, will you Tom?" she replied and winked again.

* Celia's Flat 

*

We entered her flat and Celia turned on the light. It was quite modest with framed prints and simple furnishing. There were basically two rooms, a living room and a bedroom. She also had a small bathroom and tiny galley kitchen. 

She told me to shower and leant me a floral print kimono to wear afterwards. Because my shoulders were so narrow it fitted me perfectly. 

She offered me a drink and we sat together on her settee facing the fire. It was a coal effect electric fire but created a warm cosy ambiance, particularly when she turned the other lights down low. 

She disappeared to her bedroom and told me to put a record on. She had a small record player and a pile of Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra LPs. I chose 'Old Blue Eyes'.

Twenty minutes later Celia reappeared wearing what can only be described as a 'seductress's outfit'. I almost fell off the settee.

She wore a shiny black taffeta flared cocktail dress, tightly gathered at the waist but with a very full knee length skirt. I could hear it make a crackling froufrou sound as she walked behind me. I looked up at her as she touched my hair and sat down beside me. Her dress was so wide and supported by so much nylon net that it spilled over me and across my lap. Her net petticoats were black. In fact everything she wore was black, shoes, stockings, and lingerie, as I was soon about to discover, was black.

She removed her glasses and shook down her hair.

"Kiss me," she pouted, leaning against my shoulder with her eyes shut and mouth half open. 

We kissed solidly for what seemed like an hour. She clearly had been starved of male company for some time because she almost ate me; her tongue delved inside me like an anteater seeking food. 

As we writhed about on the settee my hands caressed her breasts and thighs and hers stroked my neck and stomach. 

My kimono had long been dragged off me and I was now in my usual nude condition. The zip fastener of her dress had been pulled down by me earlier, and her dress front hung open. I could see that she was wearing a black lacy basque underneath. She had clearly prepared herself for this night and I remembered her inviting me for a similar night of lust, as she had described it, after the evening meal on Saturday. 

My hands fumbled with her basque clasps and for a woman of between forty five and fifty her skin was very firm and well toned. I wondered whether anyone had ever sold her any of my patent skin-lotion. I smiled and laughed at the thought. 

By now we were on the floor, on the thick shag-pile hearth rug, clamped together in a ferocious embrace. Still our mouths were locked and our tongues continued probing and flicking. I decided that the basque had to be removed.

I undid the eighth, and final, hook and eye, and her boned corsetry flopped forward and downwards. Between her legs I felt her French knickers caught up in the now loose suspenders of her stockings. I pushed her dress down further and sucked her nipples while she slipped off her knickers. Like wild animals we were over each other, our hands exploring each others body, fiercely and savagely.

"I want your prick up my cunt," she whispered loudly in my ear in her haughty voice, her prominent teeth, "but first I want you 69," she said licking my ears and neck.

I lay on my back as she stood up quickly and took off her dress, basque, French knickers and stockings. She put her shoes back on and readjusted her black petticoats. She stood over me facing my feet. She bent forward and stared at me between her legs, pushing the black stiff nylon net to one side.

"I'm going to suck you off like you have never been sucked in your life," she said trying to look serious and sexy, but smiling in a joyous way.

She squatted down and placed her knees on each side of my head. Her petticoats were everywhere. Untrimmed stiff lace net stuck into me and felt coarse and abrasive. With my free hands I threw the layers over me so that her bottom hung over my face. Her buttocks were well rounded and smelled of expensive perfume. I pulled her buttocks onto my face and breathed in the slightly fetid womanly smell emanating from her anus. She sprawled over my body and pushed my penis into her mouth. It was heavenly. Celia's mouth set to work and I felt that the day's frustrations would now be sated by a wonderfully adept fellatrix.

If anyone had asked me to describe Celia's character prior to that evening I would have described her as middle-aged, frumpy, studious and motherly. I certainly would not have used the word 'nymphomaniac' but it appeared that she was so, or something similar.

Her lips grasped and pulled at my foreskin and under and around my glans. Her tongue sent rippling sensations through my penis as she manipulated my heavy balls with her finger nails. Her labia lips were fully distended and were oozing cunt-juice over my face. There was a mature odour to her spendings, which, combined with her Chanel No.5 perfume induced a soporific effect. 

I lay back and enjoyed her attentions. I ceased licking her and just stared at her wide pendulous naked arse twitching above me under her petticoats. She looked so 'animal' as her engorged lips dribbled slime over my nostrils and mouth. I pulled her closer to me again and she squealed as I licked her prominent clitoris. She continued mewing through the large piece of me that was gagging her mouth. By now she was clawing at my outspread thighs and testicles. I was so close to 'coming' but I wanted to make the moment last forever. I felt seminal fluid rise inside me, well up then well up again. The pressure inside my penis was intense. It felt as if I would explode as Celia continued with her sucking and scratching.

"Oh my, Oh my," I grunted as I continued fucking her face.

"Oh my, oh my," I groaned as I reached the brink.

"Oh my, oh, aaaghh," I shouted as I emptied the contents of my penis into her mouth with three massive jerks. She swallowed it and continued licking me, and cleaning up any spilled drops of goo.

Her tongue was very efficient and delved into every fleshy fold of my balls-sac and perineum, I felt guilty that she hadn't achieved her orgasm but to be honest I had spent so much time recently pleasuring women orally between their legs that I needed a rest, anyway the night was still young.

I fell asleep after my orgasm and dreamt of girls in flared dresses and skirts stockings and suspenders, with lacy petticoats walking over me, and standing legs apart looking down on me. I dreamt that one of them was sucking my penis and that it had become very stiff, very stiff indeed. It was so stiff that I woke up and realised that Celia was coaxing me back to life with her mouth.

"Hello Tom, you fell asleep. I've just had a cup of coffee but I thought you needed a rest. It's been a long day for you I can see," she said and continued sucking me. 

She stood up and straddled by thighs. Very slowly she squatted over my erection; I held it vertical as she guided it into her. It slid in easily and I felt her grip me with her vaginal muscles. It felt incredible to be inside a mature sexual woman. 

She still wore her knee-length black net petticoats and I felt the coarseness of the stiff material abrade my torso. She had however put on a black lacy camisole to cover her breasts. I began to think that she was feeling self-conscious with having sex with such a much younger man.

Once again I was treated to more stimulation. The past three days appeared to my like one long orgy of continuous sex, with me playing the major part. I looked more closely at her face. She had pinned back her wavy dark hair and had put on her heavy rimmed glasses. Presumably she wanted to see my face as she rode me. Her prominent teeth smiled at me as she gurgled something about fucking me until dawn.

She nudged me and began rocking up and down. I followed her movements with my pelvis, sliding and slipping up and down inside her vulva. I watched her hardened nipples wobble beneath the black silky material of her thin lacy top. She had shut her eyes and was caressing my stomach with luxurious circular movements, She was clearly enjoying taking the lead; she liked being in control.

"I'll 'boss' this fuck," she said in an antiquarian manner.

"Quaintly Victorian," I thought.

Our breathing became more laboured as she rode me further. Onwards she rode, now jerking more wildly with my stiff shaft firmly inside her. I thrust up and down, following her lead. Her eyes were bright and I smelled the familiar odour of hot vagina. 

Twenty minutes of furious, insane, frenzied fucking took us both to the brink. I held myself back as much as I could as I wanted her to attain her climax with me. Our eyes were locked, perspiration dripping off us both. Her movements were now pure primeval. She was out of control and loving it. 

Then all at once she shuddered and I felt her muscles twitch, then spasm as I released my semen into her.

"Yes, Oh fuck, yes, yes," she screamed and laughed hysterically as we both realised that we had climaxed together. Her smile widened as she flopped forward into my arms and we kissed until she fell asleep.

I carried her into her bedroom and shut the door.

(Continued in part 20)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 20



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old' one Friday. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it. 

I had decided not to get the local police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to 'Peeping Toms'. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and tethered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards at each corner of the room. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part twenty of my sorry tale.)

*

Monday morning

*

Following a 'night of passion' with Celia the school secretary, I woke early on Monday morning with a massive erection. I lay there watching the breathing naked woman lying on her side with her back to me. Her shoulders were only just covered by the duvet and I reached over and kissed her on the neck. She groaned and I slid next to her and eased my huge penis against the dark rounded cleft between her buttocks.

I pulled her heavy cheeks apart and slid my penis between them, and released her fleshy globes so that my manhood became well and truly trapped. She stirred but did not wake. I lay there for a few minutes on my side savouring the exquisite pressure that her cheeks were exerting on my most sensitive part. In the half light of dawn she smelled of dried sweat and perfume; I did too. I once again became intoxicated with this woman who was at least thirty years older than me. 

I pushed my penis against her, extracting as much sensation from her given that she was asleep and apparently oblivious of my movements.

I decided that I needed to 'come' so started to gentle rub against her, allowing my foreskin to be dragged backwards and forwards over my glans using purely the suction and friction of her skin which held me. I carried on like this for several minutes until she turned slightly and groaned and stuck out her arse even further towards me. I held her hips as I increased the pace of my thrusts. By this stage she was awake and had clenched her buttocks tightly in an attempt to grip me firmly. It worked well as now I could feel an orgasm welling up inside me. I was very close and wanted the millisecond at the brink to last forever. It didn't and I grasped her waist with both hands and brought myself off in several powerful jerks. The sticky slime filled her buttock cleavage and, as I pulled out, I kissed her smooth silky shoulders and neck. 

She rolled over and we kissed, and within half an hour we were making love again.

* 

After breakfast in her flat she called the headmistress on the internal telephone and was told that I, the Peeping Tom, or just plain Tom, should be brought to her study at 10.00am where the rest of Class 2B would be waiting.

At the appointed hour I turned up wearing Celia's kimono and was greeted by very bad mocking Japanese impersonations from the girls who giggled and tickled me unmercifully as we waited outside the head mistress's office door.

"Ah so, welly honabell Pleeping Tlom to do honabell service to young Blitish flinishing school girls...."

"Come in girls," bellowed Miss Wiff-Naseford from behind her desk. She looked incredibly hung-over and wore dark glasses to hide her bloodshot eyes.

"Ah Tom, pleasant night with the school secretary?" she enquired and I replied that it was very comfortable, trying to avoid her gaze.

"Plenty of sex then Tom? Celia's only working in this school because she has been banned by the British Finishing School Trust from working with men. Her record of previous sexual misdemeanours is as long as your err...very long...very long indeed, ahem." She continued as the girls laughed and stared at the bulge under my kimono.

"Off with your clothes Tom, we've got quite a few to get through today," she cooed summoning Matron to help her tie me down. 

I had not seen Matron for ages and she winked at me as if she knew that I had spent the night with the middle aged nymphomaniac secretary, Celia Raines. She appeared slightly jealous. I was surprised.

"I knew you would end up in bed with her, she's just dreadful with men. She's on permanent medication you know, we put it in her tea," she whispered to me as she adjusted the leather straps and ropes. "Goodness only knows what she would be like if she stopped taking them," she smirked and winked again. I liked Molly though, I thought.

"They're not too tight for you are they?" she asked me, tensioning the buckles so that I once more lay on my back, arms and legs outstretched, naked with a rampant erection already seeking sexual relief. 

Molly squatted down in front of me and slid the narrow six-inch cushion under my head. I stared lecherously up her uniform skirt at her thighs which bulged out above her black stockings. I was drawn to the small damp patch in her satin knickers. She saw me and murmured that I could have her whenever I liked. My penis twitched dramatically at her words and she patted my face before leaving. 

The rest of Class 2B were fidgeting and looking restless. I sensed that some of them would rather be somewhere else. I had reached the stage where I felt the same way too. These punishment sessions had been going on far too long. Surely when the punishment had been dreamt up in 1889 there could have only been a couple of dozen tall girls at the Finishing School, if not in the whole of Great Britain. This was taking far too long.

"First girl please," said Miss Wiff-Naseford from her usual place, behind me on the low leather arm chair." Ah, yes indeed, Alice Spears isn't it? And your mother is a painter if I recall, step forward dear."

A very lively looking suntanned girl with black hair crossed the room and stood by me.

"Now Alice this boy, Tom, here has been caught peeping. In fact he is a Peeping Tom," she continued, "and we all have to punish him, the whole school, do you see?" 

It was plain by the lack of response that Alice did not understand. I looked up at her. Her three-inch high heeled court shoes shone brilliantly in the morning sun, which streamed through the study window. Her smooth black stockings disappeared under her knee-length plaid pleated school skirt, which in turn disappeared under her grey v-neck sweater. She looked young and stunning. I watched her breasts bounce slightly as she asked the headmistress the obvious question."

"So what are we supposed to do to the Peeping Tom exactly?" "Well sit on his face, of course," she replied, suddenly remembering that every class had to be told what to do.

"Well how does that punish him? He would clearly enjoy it, surely?" suggested Miss Spears.

"Yes, yes, yes he does enjoy it, don't you Tom?" she said aiming a kick at my face, "but he becomes very frustrated, very frustrated indeed, because he can't relieve himself, by...err...you...know, masturbation," she concluded.

"Oh I see," said Alice, " So he pleasures us, but cannot pleasure himself, so as time goes on he feels more and more frustrated," she nodded in realisation.

"Precisely girl, you've got it. I hope all you other girls understand now," the mad head teacher barked across the room. "Make him feel sexy but don't touch his willy," she emphasised curtly.

"Now girls when you sit on the Tom you clearly need to take your knickers off, so when I ask you to step forward you'll stand next to him, drop your pants, then squat on his face?" she said peering through her dark glasses.

"Now are any of you having a period, no, good heavens this must be a record, remember to let the Tom lick you between your legs. Do not be shy; we are all girls together aren't we?" 

I thought again that I was merely an instrument of pleasure and that this business of them 'all being girls' made me feel sexless. I felt as if I was a smooth piece of wood and not a person. 'All girls together' indeed.

"Come on Alice, slip off your knickers," said Miss Wiff-Naseford now clearly raring to go.

Alice waved down at me and smiled, then walked around me staring at my penis which was flaccid at hearing Miss Wiff-Naseford's previous outburst. 

Alice clearly had the right idea as she bent over and shook her pert buttocks over me, flicking her pleats from side to side. As soon as I saw the delicate lace of her petticoat I felt my penis lengthen and become engorged. Her underskirt was so feminine. There were tiny flowers and swirls of foliage as well as flounces along the hem. 

She walked over me several times then stood above me staring down into my eyes.

She straddled my waist with her feet and shuffled slowly towards my face. At each step I could see more and more of her legs, first her knees, then her thighs, then her stocking, then her stocking tops then her inner thighs.

Finally she lifted her feet over my shoulders and placed them on each side of my face. I stared up her skirt almost shaking with anticipation. Slowly she squatted on me and immediately the smell of warm vagina swept over me. My nose entered her outer lips which were surprisingly cool and fleshy. I pushed out my tongue and slurped my way into her. 

She smelled of musk but there was also a sharp tangy odour too. Soon she was rubbing herself up and down my nose. We quickly established a rhythm which, over many minutes, became a jerking wild mass of thighs, petticoats, shoes, vaginas, pleated skirts with my face somewhere in the middle. 

The head teacher was clearly enjoying it as I could hear "Go on girl, wipe yourself all over him, that's it, lots of juice, go on, go on."

Tens minutes of constant clitoral tonguing brought on a series of frantic jerking and finally a shuddering deep orgasm from Alice, who emerged clearly shaken. In fact she was moved to tears and had to be hugged and kissed by her classmates. Once again I felt that I had done my part ingetting through this ghastly punishment.

Cheryl Raven stepped forward and pulled up the back of her school skirt, pushed down her knickers and stepped out of them. She had to be the first of many to drop her urine soiled panties on my face. I could have complained at such rudeness, but smiled up at her and nudged them off me. 

Cheryl was another tall, truly big girl.

Everything about her was curvaceous and Rubenesque. 

Her thighs appeared inflated, and her bottom was massive. Fortunately she was fairly light on her feet and I initially was wary of her four-inch spike heels which came dangerously close to my face but did not actually touch me. She wobbled her breasts at me in a faintly Burlesque manner which perked up my penis but not sufficient for an erection. I watched her shimmy her hips then step over my face and stand above mewith her legs wide apart. She appeared like an Amazon towering over me and my penis then rose in appreciation. She stared down and I then began to panic. Her pendulous arse seemed as if it would swallow me up, but I had no choice. I told her to sit on me slowly as I did not want to end up hospitalised.

She lowered herself gently onto my face. All around me bulging flesh hung down. Her stockings gripped her flabby thighs so tightly that I thought they would be torn apart by the pressure from her skin. Her thick suspenders appeared to be fully taut and dug into her thighs. It looked as if everything about her was large. She dropped, then rearranged her skirt pleats and petticoat over me so that I couldn't see her face and only was vaguely aware of Miss Wiff-Naseford behind me. I stared spellbound at a pair of vast fleshy labia surrounded by fine brown curls. 

Her inner lips glistened in the darkness under her skirt, and it was like a rare an exotic equatorial fruit. She shuffled forward, opening her legs further, and pressed herself firmly against my face. The stench was incredibly strong. It was a combination of sweat, urine and dribbling cunt slime. Then it began. On her heels and toes she rocked her heavy body over me, sliding her protruding lips over my nose and mouth. Backwards and forwards she slid over and over again. My neck moved with each sweep. She continued slowly but then began to speed things up. 

I heard the headmistress tell her that she was 'delightfully chubby', but I did not think she appreciated this comment as she slid over me more firmly as if taking it out on me. I felt helpless and pulled and strained at my ties in an attempt to lessen the impact from each sweep. By now her vagina appeared to flood open with sexual secretions and my mouth and nostrils were beginning to fill up with her spendings. 

"Have you thought of dieting? Cheryl dear," said the insensitive old hag.

"No I have not thank you, I am happy with the way I am," grunted the large schoolgirl sliding across my face more aggressively. 

Two fleshy hands held my head as her slidings degenerated to frantic jerkings. 

I now was in serious trouble. My face and her vagina were so covered in lubrication that they appeared joined. Suction had been created by her cavernous flaps against my nostrils and I could hardly breathe. I couldn't cry out either as my head was being jerked from side to side so violently. I watched the loose folds of flesh gripped by the waistbands of her petticoat and suspender belt pulsate above me. Her skirt and petticoat rustled together and the trapped smell was horribly intense. I tried to tell her to stop but her labia prevented it. I couldn't even move my head to one side because her sweating thigh skin gripped me. I think this was probably the worst experience of the past two days, matched only my being sat upon by the two cleaning women. My penis felt as if it was made of reinforced concrete it felt so hard.

Eventually her jerking slowed down and her movements became little short brutal painful thrusts as she squeezed every ounce of stimulation from me. She grunted and shook, then shuddered and I felt the muscles of her vagina spasm involuntarily over my fully inserted tongue as she 'came'. 

She remained squatting heavily on me struggling for air and struggling to stand up. She clearly found squatting painful, particularly for prolonged lengths of time. She stumbled and stepped over me and Miss Wiff-Naseford congratulated her on her performance. Cheryl gave her a sneer as a parting gesture for the inappropriate remarks regarding her weight.

The headmistress stood up and slid off her long directoire nylon knickers, in a very unlady like manner. She crawled over to me and wiped my face with them, evidently realising that sexual secretions and pubic hair were blocking my nostrils by the way I snorted wildly to clear my air passages. 

I told her that I couldn't take much more of this punishment and asked her if we could try a different position. She seemed responsive to my suggestion and agreed to give it a go.

"Mr Tom here requires untying, I need four girls to give me a hand," she said to the bored looking nineteen year olds standing in a huddle.

They untied me and I stood up and stretched every muscle in my body. I felt weary and worn out. and had only pleasured two girls. They pulled up a long leather settee and I knelt in front of it with my hands behind my back. One girl tied my wrists together and another one strapped by knees together so that I could not get up, only fall sideways. Yet another girl strapped my wrists to my ankles with a long loose leather belt, so that I was able to kneel forward and kneel on my heels.

Miss Wiff-Naseford confirmed that my 'fettered frame' followed the 'spirit' of the 1889 punishment if not to the letter. We both agreed that it would be more comfortable for the girls as they would not be forced to squat.

I knelt there naked on a cushion, to protect my knees, staring at the empty sofa in front of me. I hoped that this new position was going to work.

* The New Position

*

"Glenda Ash please step forward and remove your underpants," said Miss Wiff- Naseford having pulled her chair up to the edge of the settee. I was aware of a tall girl smelling strongly of scent walking across the room and standing next to me. I watched her out of the corner of my eye and saw her take off a pair of silky lacy pure white knickers. She pulled them over my face and everyone laughed, except me.

She adjusted them so my nose was pulled into the crotch. As soon as I breathed in the intoxicating smell I felt amazingly aroused and my penis stiffened into a near horizontal position. When the giggling had died down she looked towards Miss Wiff-Naseford for further instructions.

"Stand in front of him and say 'Head up skirt Tom' and he'll know what to do. Won't you Tom," she said, now too far away to aim a kick. 

Miss Ash stepped around me and removed her knickers from my now upturned face and threw them to one side. I knelt back on my heels and leant forward. She shuffled up to me and parted her legs so that my head nestled against her skirt covered thighs.

"Head up skirt Tom," she said smirking, I peered into her big blue eyes and ducked slowly under her skirt and petticoat. 

She lifted both garments over me and shook them down around me so that I was covered from the shoulders up. The coolness of her nylon slip contrasted with the heavy scratchiness of her woollen tartan skirt hem. I allowed her to move further forward until I was able to tilt my head back and feel her hairy vagina on my mouth.

I felt relatively comfortable except that my balls were a little short of space. I held this position until I thought she was ready then began licking her as firmly and rhythmically as fast as I could. She shivered when I touched her clitoris and I felt her body loosen then tighten then loosen again. She was clearly very sensitive to me being under her skirt. My naked shoulders rubbed against the slippery smoothness of her black nylon stockings and the ruched elasticated lace of her white suspenders. Beneath me I was able to glance at her black high heeled shoes which she'd positioned on each side of my knees.

I felt her hands hold my head through her skirt as she manoeuvred my face into are more pleasurable position. I drove my tongue into her and licked her solidly for many, many minutes, flicking at her clitoris at the top of every lick.

All of a sudden she appeared to be at the point of no return and made a 'dash along the home straight', as it were. 

I merely made sure my nose was held in a fixed position as she jerked herself off on me to the screams of " Yes, yes, yes, oooh yes." Quickly she jerked herself again, then again then one last time. She achieved her orgasm and drooled her spendings over me, so much so that it dripped over my chin. My face stank of vagina.

She pulled up her uniform and I leant back on my heels as she stepped away. After retrieving her knickers she returned to the line. I turned and saw the headmistress beaming with pride. It had been so quick and effortless. Glenda had done most of the work. The smooth contours of my face were enough to stimulate her to orgasm, but I still remained frustrated, which unfortunately was the main ethos of the punishment.

Barbara Bunning was a very slim, extremely tall elegant girl. She had shoulder length chestnut brown hair tied back with an Alice band. She walked up to me and shuffled forward and pushed her stomach into my face. Her school skirt pleats were coarse fibred and rough textured. 

She lifted first her skirt, then her wide flounced petticoat, and draped them over my head. I watched entranced as she reached up inside them and slid her panties down to her knees. The pungent musky smell hit me as I stared at the stains in her crotch. She moved further forward over me so that my head was pushed firmly between her thighs facing downwards. She held me there. I could feel her pubic hair on the nape of my neck. My penis felt as if it was ten times it's usual length.




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 20



I stared downwards at her yellowed soiled knicker gusset and watched as her fingers grabbed hold of the waistband and pulled them back up towards me. My nose was plunged into the stinkiest part of her undergarment, and I had to endure it. She was clearly enjoying the situation. I heard her tell her friends that she had 'caught a Peeping Tom in her knickers'. They all laughed merrily and clapped. Miss Wiff-Naseford said that Barbara was very resourceful. 

I waited until she had lowered them again and knelt back appearing more dishevelled than normal. Secretly I was furious; I did not like to made to look foolish, and I did not like her wasting time.

"Head up skirt Tom," the young madam demanded loudly, this time looking quite cross. I told her that there was no need to shout, and she kneed me in the face, which brought sudden tears to my eyes.

"No talking, d'ya hear," ranted the now belligerent Barbara Bunning.

I slurped my way between her legs and she appeared to calm down. I felt her grab my head and hold it while she slid up and down against me, flexing her knees. I was aware of static discharge where her nylon slip rubbed against her tartan skirt, and I also felt warm lubrication oozing out of her love hole and over my nose and lips. She held me in such a way so that I could lick her clitoris, and she could control the pressure. After three or four minutes of furious jerking, where her petticoat and skirt shook all around me, she ground herself down onto me and orgasmed. One wave followed another as she pulled me into her.

I felt part of her orgasm, and smelled of her and, as I was hidden away out of sight, I felt I did not exist as a person. There was just my tongue and her vagina. Nothing else seemed to matter.

Quickly she was off me and was wiping herself with her knickers before pulling them back on. I stank of pussy-slime and secretly wished that matron had been there to wash my face with flannels. Miss Wiff-Naseford wandered over and sat on the settee. "Good going Tom, this is working really well, here let me clean you up a bit," she said contritely, looking rather concerned. She spat in my face several times and I shut my eyes. She then cleaned me up with her discarded directoire knickers. Quite honestly I felt no cleaner and wished she would use a paper tissue or a proper towel.

Judy Cleminson followed the same approach as Barbara Bunning.

Judy stood in front of me and slid her pink broderie and eyelet lace knickers down to her knees. She shuffled forward with her legs apart and lifted both skirt and petticoat to her waist. I ducked between her legs and she gripped me between her thighs forcing me to peer downward. Then she pulled her pants back up so that again my nose came into contact with another urine stained gusset.

She had pulled them up quite tightly and dropped her heavy pleats and thin nylon underskirt over me so that I had to kneel there smelling her stinking panty crotch. Needless to say my penis stiffened once more and I began seriously to doubt that I could continue without some form of relief. This 'panty-trapping' appeared to be a welcome addition to the morning's routine. The girls really thought it was funny judging by their sniggering remarks.

"Head up skirt Tom," she ordered, as she finally kicked her knickers to one side. I stuck my head out at thigh level and she stood over me as she flipped first her petticoat then her pleated knee-length skirt over my head and rearranged their hems neatly around me. Her pubic patch smelled surprisingly sweet compared with her knickers. 

Immediately I began licking her labia which opened up before me. She spread her legs further and I delved into her vagina. I savoured the many undulations of her fleshy folds and differing skin textures, licking and sniffing my way over them. Gently, but firmly, she clasped my head through her skirt and told me to "get ready for this!" 

Then she was off. She roughly gripped my head and held me tightly against her. Flexing her knees she jerked herself visciously up and down, turning my face into a slippery pool of colourless slime. Shifting her grip and moving her feet she used the bony top of my head as a masturbatory surface. She readjusted her grip and pulled up my face and jerked her dripping pussy against my nose. Again she jerked herself savagely against me, seeking sexual satisfaction. All about me her petticoat threshed about. Tiny sparks of static crackled and snapped.

"Oh, ooh, oh, oh no, oh yes," she moaned, only just audible through the two layers of skirt and petticoat material which separated me from the rest of the room. Again she adjusted her grip and wiped her prominent labia furiously against my temples. I stared down at her stockings and at her metal suspender clasps, and at my penis which bobbed about in time with her incessant masturbation. "Oh yes," she continued, "Oh yes," she blurted. I became aware that her movements had speeded up. My skull clearly was the best surface for her to slide her clitoris against so I knelt there, under her school uniform, and endured the fierce frottage above me which surrounded me.

"Oh yes," she spat as her wild jerking took on an almost feverish intensity.

"Oh yessss," she hissed approaching her climax at long last. Her thighs gripped me and held me as a great writhing seething pulsating orgasm spasmed through her, followed by another one. I could feel her shake all over then it passed. She relaxed her grip and I knelt backwards in desperation, breathing in clean fresh air.

I had read somewhere that a woman's body is like a finely tuned musical instrument which requires two people to play it. I was still in awe at the way women attained their orgasms.

We looked at each other for the first time. She was a plain faced girl with gold rimmed spectacles and full red lips. We smiled at each other as she turned to join her classmates by the door. I stared at her pleated skirt swinging from side to side and it was difficult to imagine that my head had just been under it as she looked so prim and scholarly.

Brenda Mahon walked up to me. I looked up at her as she smiled back. She looked very embarrassed having to perform a sexual act in front of her head teacher and her classmates. I smiled back, aware that my face looked greasy and I had pubic hair between my teeth. I must have smelled disgusting as well. Nevertheless she grinned and shook her long blonde hair and reached under her skirt and extracted her knickers which were pink with tiny pale blue roses on them. She pulled them over my head and swivelled them so that the warm crotch was over my nostrils and my eyes stared out defiantly from each leg hole. I felt humiliated but everyone laughed including the insane head teacher.

She slid them off me and took up a position in front of me. I knelt back on my heels and leant forward my head tilted back. She shuffled towards me and stood with her high heels on each side of my knees. My face was now in contact with her tartan pleats which hid her thighs. She slowly pulled up her skirt to waist level and held it there. I stared in wonderment at her nylon slip. It matched her knickers and was basically pink with minute pale blue roses on it. The hem of her petticoat was pale blue and very lacy. I could see the outline of her suspender clips through the semi-transparent nylon; I could even see her black stockings and pubic hair through her petticoat also. Her waist slip was very full and flared out in front of me.

"Head up skirt Tom," she whispered pulling up her petticoat, and draping it over me, followed by her thick pleats. She rearranged her clothing so that only my lower torso and legs could be seen. Sliding further forward she pushed her hairy opening firmly into my face as I stuck out my tongue. 

It did not take long for her to achieve her orgasm and I re-emerged from under her skirt a sticky smelly mess. My penis oozed precum which drooled onto my thigh.

"Next girl please, oh yes Helen Bickerton, how are you? We haven't seen you recently have we?" said Miss Wiff-Naseford suddenly adopting the royal 'we'.

"No Headmistress," said the girl with long auburn curls pulling up her skirt to reveal pure white lace edged French knickers, "I have been at the camp, as part of my award training scheme," she continued now standing in front of me. 

"We had a marvellous time, learning field craft and other useful skills," she said sliding her frillies down to her knees. "We did quite a bit of hiking and map reading and it was hard work," she said stepping out of them.

"Really, that must have been challenging for you all," said Miss Wiff-Naseford watching her student wiping my face with her knickers. My penis stiffened as their conversation progressed.

"Yes Helen, the award scheme is very well received by future employers", said the head teacher watching Miss Bickerton stand astride my knees, her skirt pushing against my upturned face. 

"And further more it is good for discipline and fosters initiative. I wish all my girls would enter the scheme," she continued as she stared at the tall willowy nineteen-year old methodically raise her skirt and petticoat.

"Yes Headmistress, I would recommend it to anyone who enjoys the outdoor life."

She stared down at me and said, "Head up skirt Tom, and the other good thing about the award scheme is that you get to know the other girls better."

"Indeed Helen and these are the friends you will value all your life no doubt," said the headmistress, now intrigued to see Miss Bickerton shaking down her pleats all about me as my raging erection bobbed about aimlessly beneath her. 

The keen eyed Amelia Wiff-Naseford watched my moving head altering the contours of Helen's skirt as I searched for her vagina and began licking and sucking her labia and clitoris.

The head teacher would have seen the girl's concertina pleats open and contract as she guided my face upwards into the most pleasurable position between her legs. She would have also noticed her open and bend her knees slightly in readiness for her masturbation.

"I must ask the school secretary to write a letter to all parents reminding them of the value of the scheme," she continued eyeing up the long legged girl with the naked boy's head up her skirt. 

She must have taken in the quivering, flexing movements of her knees and wild jerking movements of my head up her skirt and smiled. Her punishment session was continuing and my stiff unrelieved aching erection tracing patterns in the air would have confirmed that fact to her.

She would have watched Helen Bickerton mercilessly wipe herself vigorously over my face, pushing my skirt-trapped head brutally from side to side so as to achieve a complete and satisfactory orgasm. 

She would not have witnessed my slime coated face surrounded by her thrashing swishing petticoat, crackling with static. She would not have noticed me struggling to breathe inside the hot underskirt atmosphere, neither could she have smelled the intense pervasive odour of 'cunt' which seemed to draw me ever deeper into her vagina and prevented me from escaping this torment.

"And another thing Helen," she said peering over her dark glasses, "I believe your sister is coming to join us next year, is that correct?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yessssssssss," she screamed as my head was mashed between her shuddering quivering thighs. "Yes, yes, yessss," she hissed and spat, as she squeezed my face as tightly as she could beneath her pleated skirt. "Yes, yes, yessss," she said pulling herself off me, leaving me kneeling, sweat running down my chest.

"Yes I thought so; I remember I met her once with you and your parents. Now when was that," mumbled poor old Miss Amelia Wiff-Naseford apparently unaware that she had just seen Helen Bickerton achieve an orgasm, possibly for the first time in the young girl's life.

The next member of Class 2B to step forward was Elaine Radford. 

I turned and watched her walk across the room towards me. I gulped as I saw her. She was truly awe inspiring. She must have been six foot four inches tall even without her four inch heels. Her dark hair cascaded down her shoulders and back as she glided towards me, her hips swivelling from side to side. 

Her knee length school skirt twirled and flicked up to reveal the slightest glimpse of white petticoat lace. She had a classic hour-glass figure with a prominent bust only just restrained by her grey v-neck sweater which looked far to small on her. I couldn't help but focus on her nipples as she stood next to me.

"Knickers off please Elaine. My, my, I'd forgotten how tall you were, my goodness what an attractive girl you are too," she exclaimed. 

This was something I did agree with. From my kneeling position I stared mouth open as she steadied herself using the top of my head as a support and slipped down her luscious looking lemon yellow lace trimmed nylon panties. I noticed the gusset was soiled. She stepped out of them and slipped them over my head pulling the warm panty-crotch against my nostrils.

This was greeted by giggles from the other girls in the corner by the door. I grinned and pretended that I was not offended.

She stood in front of me and placed one shoe next to my knee and did the same with her other shoe. I knelt back, still with her panties over my face. My penis again sought relief and pointed upwards toward the clock. I noticed that it was almost midday. Two hours of non stop pleasuring was leaving me exhausted, hungry and painfully frustrated.

Elaine reached down and pulled her knicker legs to one side so that they dropped down to my neck and remained there like a wispy nylon scarf. She slouched forward, almost pushing me off balance. My head rested against her unbelievably long thighs. Slowly she eased up her skirt and lemon yellow flared lace edged petticoat and pulled me into her. She then dropped her clothing over me, making sure that she remained modest and that her pleats were even spread around her and over me.

Once again I was staring at another young woman's hairy crotch, and enjoying the odour of vagina which filled my nasal passages. She nudged me and pulled my face firmly against her. I felt trapped. I stared at her stomach as my lips began the slow process of bringing her to an orgasm. I dragged my tongue between her labia, easing them apart and exposing her clitoral hood. 

From that moment I felt as if I was in control. She flinched when I sucked on her stiffening bud, and then flinched again, shaking her skirts about me. I licked her and she flinched again. She seemed to be totally responsive to every touch. Every touch produced a shaking movement. I watched her body quiver as I licked her over and over again on her clitoral nub. She shook at the least touch; it was like an automatic response.

For what seemed like a quarter of an hour of continuous licking I felt her movements becoming more urgent. Her flinching yielded to rocking, which made way for gentle jerking, which was overtaken my furious jerking which ended with a great exuberant, crescendo of bucking hips, shaking petticoats and flicking skirt pleats. 

Just when I thought she was 'coming' she lifted her long cool leg up and placed it over my shoulder pulling me further into her. I felt her smooth black nylon stocking slide against my ear and cheek then her warm inner thigh rest against my face. I felt her high heel dig into my back. I also felt as if I was totally absorbed into the space under her skirt and between her legs and that I, as a person, did not exist and that I remained merely as a masturbatory tool, a mere sexual aid. 

By now she was definitely on the home straight. I wondered how she could remain standing on one leg and achieve her orgasm but I didn't have to wait very long to find out.

The vicious bucking and jerking continued until I heard her let out an unearthly groan and my face suddenly became coated with her slimy secretions, as she grabbed me and shuddered roughly against me. 

I fought for breath and jerked her off me but she continued to hang on until her orgasm was spent. I remained kneeling passively until she uncoupled her leg from me and swung it over my face so that I now faced her buttocks under her skirt. She pushed back on me and shimmied, rubbing her buttocks over me.

This was met by laughter, so she did it again. I tried to duck my way out from under her uniform but she reached behind her and held me firmly against her. Because she was so tall her skirt appeared to have extra length in it so I could not extract myself from under it with falling sideways and risking injury. It now appeared that 'buttock skirt-trapping' was to be added to the repertoire of punishments to be handed out.

She leant forward and pulled her skirt tightly inwards so that again I was pushed into her derriere. This game seemed to produce more laughter and I realised that I had to put up with it. Eventually she flipped up her pleats and I ducked out. 

My hair was completely soaked with sweat and vaginal lubrication; my face was plastered with mucous, slime and pubic hair, even my ears felt damp and sticky. I felt and looked dreadful and my penis dripping precum, gradually shrank back to its flaccid state.

Miss Radford lifted off her lemon coloured panties from my neck and unexpectantly kissed me full on the lips and asked whether I would like to sleep with them that night. 

it suddenly dawned on me that after Class 2B I had the whole of the third year to get through and the other members of staff. Would I ever complete this mammoth task?

(continued in part 21) 



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 21



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old' one Friday. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it. 

I had decided not to get the local police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to 'Peeping Toms'. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and tethered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards at each corner of the room. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part twenty one of my sorry tale.)

*

Monday morning

*

. Miss Radford lifted off her lemon coloured panties from my neck and unexpectedly kissed me full on the lips and asked whether I would like to sleep with them that night. 

It suddenly dawned on me that after Class 2B I had the whole of the third year to get through and the other members of staff. Would I ever complete this mammoth task?

Lois Cooper had unusual green eyes and very full lips. She clattered and clicked her way across the room in her three-inch high heeled shoes. I knelt naked on my heels as I took in her beauty. She truly was a very attractive young woman. Her hair was swept up in a high pony tail and she flicked it from side to side as if she were a free untamed spirit.

"Knickers off please Lois," barked the headmistress who had now removed her dark glasses. Miss Wiff-Naseford did look rough and I felt sorry for her even though her drunken state was self inflicted.

The tall girl tottered up to me and smiled down at me. "You'll like sniffing my panties; I've worn them all night for you," she said slipping them down her ankles and over her shoes. 

I looked aghast as I noticed how stained they were. She held them up and shook them in front of me. They were pale pink knickers with a bold lacy edge. Slowly she pulled them over my face and twisted them about so as to ensure the inside of her panty crotch was pulled tightly against my nostrils. I could feel and taste the encrusted cream and brown coloured stains as she rubbed her hand over my face, ensuring maximum contact with this disgusting undergarment. Without doubt they were one of the worst pairs of knickers I had ever smelled. They had a metallic ammonia farmyard stench to them, and I found it difficult to breathe.

She and her classmates laughed aloud at my predicament and Miss. Wiff-Naseford appeared to join in. I spluttered and coughed, throwing my head from side to side to get them off me. Miss Cooper appeared visibly weak through giggling and pushed them further against me. I hated being treated this way; it was so demeaning. I had to put up with this public humiliation as in the head teacher's eyes this was all part of my punishment. 

Eventually the tall nineteen year old yanked her underwear off and stood in front of me. She was still giggling as she spoke the required words.

"Tom, head up skirt, now," she sniggered lifting up her pleats and wide flared petticoat. I ducked my head under as she shuffled forward and was greeted by a waft of warm stale air.

Her pubic area smelled just as fetid as her knickers, but again I had little choice. I pushed out my tongue as she dropped her silky petticoat and thick plaid skirt over my head and shoulders. In the darkness I lapped at her labia, running my tongue between her protruding lips, stopping short at her prominent clitoris. I felt that I wanted to get my own back on this girl for her rudeness so I deliberately failed to stimulate her most sensitive nub. 

She clearly realised that I was unwilling to masturbate her and I felt sharp finger nails digging into my head through her clothing. I continued avoiding her clitoris with each sweep of my tongue. She groaned in disbelief and gripped my head more firmly, adjusting her stance in an attempt to pull me into her. I stubbornly failed to lick her and eventually retracted my tongue and kept my head perfectly still between her legs. She appeared to become very angry.

Suddenly she grabbed me and swung one of her long stocking clad legs over my shoulder and pulled me towards her. I felt her spike heel shoe dig into my back. My face was twisted to one side and held. Then she began a long intense process of rubbing my facial contours against her genitals. I shut my eyes and tried to remain impassive as she jerked my head over her fleshy folds. Her pubic hair dripped with cunt-juice and I could barely breathe. Eventually after what seemed a long time. She juddered and shuddered and brought herself off on me, swearing like a trooper as she orgasmed. 

Immediately she stood away from me and stared angrily. Miss Wiff-Naseford was clearly aware that I had not carried out my duty. I spat out pubic hair and attempted to appease her anger by adopting my 'little boy lost' and 'puppy dog eyes expression. This enraged her even more and she aimed a kick at my shoulder, which connected, and was painful.

"Remember 'Mr. Tom'," she said, "The police are only a phone call away."

"You bastard," said Lois Cooper pulling up her knickers and returning to her friends, at the same time flicking her tartan pleats from side to side.

"If you don't play ball again Tom. I shall be very annoyed. Now please, lick them between their legs; that's what they are expecting you to do, and that's what I expect you to do. Understood?" she whispered with a face incandescent with rage.

"Next girl please. Oh it's Geraldine Wilson isn't it," the headmistress cooed at the tall slim girl with blonde curls standing next to me.

I stared up at her angelic features. She looked like a Renaissance painting. Her eyes were pale blue with incredibly small pupils. Her skin was pale as if it was carved from marble and her hair hung down in tightly curled ringlets. 

I dropped my gaze and stared at her shoes. They were three inch high heeled court shoes in patent leather. Her black stockings were of the finest denier. I was intrigued at the tiny wrinkles of nylon across her ankles. 

Her skirt hem brushed my shoulder as she clasped the top of my head to provide support as she hauled down her knickers. They were pure white and unsoiled. I noticed that they were trimmed in deep crisp Calais lace and had a tiny bow and rosebud sewn to the waistband at the front. They looked very delicate and feminine. 

Needless to say my penis began to take an interest in the proceedings and started to stiffen. It stiffened further as she stepped over me and straddled my kneeling knees. By degrees she shuffled forwards so that I was pushed back on my heels with her skirt pushed firmly against my face.

"Head up skirt," she said to me in a friendly and courteous manner. 

I stared up into her eyes as she pulled up her pleats and petticoat and draped them over my face. The silky smoothness of cool nylon petticoat against my cheeks immediately jerked my heavy penis into life. 

It felt refreshingly erotic to be under the skirt of such a superior being. I felt her rearrange her clothing so that her pleats and underslip hung evenly down from her waist and hips so that I was enveloped neatly between her legs. I was greeted by intense odours from her blonde bush which rested on my nose. Her skirt hem tickled my naked shoulders as I knelt, almost in reverence, at her vagina in front of me.

Within seconds I was tonguing her 'portals of pleasure' and easing apart her outer labia using just my tongue and nose. In the dimmed light under her uniform I could see her clitoral hood and engorged bud awaiting my further attentions. The environment under her skirt and between her legs smelled and tasted purely of sex. This contrasted dramatically with her prim and innocent outer appearance, which she presented to the rest of the room. 

She was clearly aroused and receptive to my tonguing. After only a minute of stimulation droplets of her female 'nectar' began oozing onto my face. I lapped it up in adoration of this heavenly creature astride me. 

Geraldine's hands held my head as she began slowly thrusting her pelvis and grinding her genitals over my upturned face. I tilted my head back further and enjoyed her wiping her slimy genitals over my eyes, nose, lips and chin. She smelled intensely of warm fresh young cunt. I held my face up as she continued with her masturbation. Gradually she increased the pace and I felt her hands on the back of my head pulling me even closer inwards. After many minutes my face was subjected to fierce stabbing pelvic jerks and cries of "Yes, yes, oh yes," from the nineteen year old above me. Gradually she 'came' in waves and judders, and I felt her vagina muscles contract around my tongue which was buried deep inside her.

"Too much'" she screamed as she pushed me away, "much too much," she sang in her 'home counties' accent. 

Clearly she was now far too sensitive to touch and I ducked out from under her skirt and dribbled out blonde pubic hair that had filled my mouth. 

Miss Wiff-Naseford held up my chin and spat on my face then dribbled long harp strings of saliva over me. She wiped it off with her soiled long-legged directoire knickers, in an attempt to clean me up. I told her that I thought she was wasting her time and that could we not just finish off Class 2B so that we could all adjourn for lunch. 

Rebecca Anderson strutted across the room wearing her four inch high-heeled court shoes. I rotated my neck from side to side in an attempt to loosen my stiff shoulders. I knelt up and flexed my legs leaning forwards and backwards, then resumed my heel-kneeling position. Her skirt flicked from side to side revealing a lace edged petticoat.

I turned and looked up at the girl. She appeared very ordinary except she had her dark hair pulled back into two bunches which stuck out sideways just above each ear. They made her appear very young, but at the same time she resembled a large doll. It was most unusual. She held onto me as she pulled her panties down to her knees then stepped out of them. They were pale pink with white lace trim. I could see that they were stained and wondered what she would smell of between her legs. She threw her knickers on the settee and, still holding onto my head swivelled round so that her skirt clad thighs were pushed against my face. The material felt warm and I could feel her suspender clips through it. I could also hear the swishing sound of her petticoat sliding over her stockings beneath her smart pleated school skirt.

"Push your head up my skirt," she cried in a coquettish manner.

I ducked my head under as she lifted up her pleats and slip. I tilted my head backwards and pushed my nose into her pubic hair as she dropped her clothing over me. She smelled intensely of warm vagina and urine. I breathed her in and felt my penis rise. Soon my tongue was buried inside her and she squirmed deliciously, thrusting her pelvis against me, her pale pink petticoat sliding over my ears and neck.

Droplets of precum formed on the bulbous purple end of penis and dribbled onto my thigh. She clasped my head to her and jerked against my face more viciously. 

Before long my features were plastered with vaginal spendings and I had to snort to clear my nostrils. Beneath her skirt the atmosphere became more and more humid as our combined sweat dripped down my face and onto my chin. Her gyrating hips drove her stockings and suspender clips into my naked shoulders and they became unusually sore.

She held onto my neck and jerked more furiously, sliding herself over and over my facial contours. I closed my eyes as all around me was a shaking mass of pale pink petticoat, swishing and crackling. My face now resembled a smooth sticky slimy mess as she extracted every last ounce of friction from me. She rode me onwards, her jerking becoming more frenzied and I felt that I was drowning in her secretions.

"Yes," she cried, "Oh yes, oh yes, yes yessss," she hissed as she grunted and came, her vagina rippling with muscular spasms around my tongue.

She backed away from me, exposing my face to the harsh light of day. I must have appeared a total wreck. My hair was lank and sticky with cunt juice and beads of sweat covered me from hand to foot. My now flaccid penis was oozing pre-cum all over my thighs. The 'mad harridan', Wiff-Naseford, ambled up to me and spat in my face several times in an attempt to clean me up. She wiped me once again with the nylon legs of her knickers. I felt so humiliated and was also desperate to wank.

From across the room I heard the familiar click, click, click sound of high heels walking towards me. I stared into the face of a freckle-faced nineteen year old with a gap-tooth grin. She looked like a Norman Rockwell painting. Her hair was in plaits and she looked much younger than her age. She also was chewing gum and I wondered whether this was frowned upon. The headmistress did not appear to mind and merely told her to pull down her knickers. 

The girl reached under her skirt and pulled them down as far as her knees. Taking the cue from other girls she waddled in front of me and pushed her thighs into my face, at the same time lifting her skirt and petticoat over my head. 

I knelt with my head angled downwards as she opened her thighs. She shuffled forwards and rubbed her stocking tops and suspender clips against my temples. I eased my way in between her long slim legs and stared down into the soiled gusset of her white lacy knickers. Gingerly she pulled them up again ensuring that my head was trapped between them and her hairy genitals. My face was plunged into the smelliest part of her undergarment. The odour was unquestionably rank and extremely unpleasant although, once again, my penis appeared to disagree.

The more I breathed in this mixture of dried vaginal secretions, urine and perspiration the stiffer it became. I just could not get enough of her female scent and breathed it in deeper and longer. Just as I thought that I would become terminally intoxicated she slid her frillies down to her ankles and stepped out of them. She grabbed my cheeks through her skirt and twisted my face so that my nose rested against pubic curls. Opening her legs she pulled me into her so that I was in the perfect position to 'bring herself off'. Again my face appeared to be just a sexual plaything, something which provided a suitable surface against which to masturbate. She clearly did not think of me as a person and became quite brutal in jerking herself over me.

"Keep your fucking head still," she said trying to hold me steady inside her slippery petticoat. 

It was a difficult job as clearly slips, by their very nature, are worn by women to reduce friction between a skirt and other underwear, such as stockings and knickers. My head was therefore difficult to position. Eventually her jerking became wilder as she found a point on my nose which perfectly fitted the hood of her clitoris. Ten minutes of incessant grunting, swearing and screaming eventually took her to the edge of her orgasm. Her body shook and shivered as she juddered and spasmed. All around me her clothes shook and lubrication gushed out of her. My face became a slick of slime, and remained so, as she squeezed her orgasm out over me. 

I fell back exhausted and looked at the head teacher. She was smiling in a demented way, mouthing the words "Bravo, well done Roberta Chapman, well done young girl."

Roberta retrieved her knickers and staggered back to the door. The other girls were fidgeting and Miss Wiff-Naseford dismissed them. There were now only two girls left to pleasure.

* A New Position.

*

"We'll try a new position with you two," she said ushering me closer to the settee. "I want you, it's Anita Russell isn't it?"

"Yes Miss Wiff-Naseford," said the blonde haired one wearing glasses.

"Well, Anita, you are going to pull down your knickers and sit on the edge of the sofa in front of Tom here and spread your legs like so." 

The head mistress sat in front of me, with her legs very wide apart. She pulled her skirt and petticoat up to her waist. I stared at her now familiar prominent gaping vulva which glistened with juice. Clearly the spectacle of watching her girls being orally pleasured had aroused her considerably.

She pulled me forward. As my hands were fettered behind my back I had little control over my balance and, therefore, crash landed into her lap. She gripped me with her thighs and threw back her garments over me so that I was once again submerged in the dimly lit space between her long legs and under her thick tweed skirt. I began lapping at her lips and worked my way in between them. With unbelievable self-control the head teacher pushed me away mumbling that 'her girls came first'.

Anita Russell sat in front of me with her legs apart and her knickers around her ankles. "Lift your feet dear and place them around Tom's neck," she told her second year student, "...but keep your knickers on." 

I now understood why she had suggested that the girls keep their knickers on. I ducked forward staring at the pale skin and hairy bush above her black stockings. She lifted her legs and swung them over me so that my head was between her knees. She pulled me and I toppled forward with my face in her pubic hair. Her legs draped over my back, were kept in place by her taught knickers around her ankles. She flipped her petticoat and skirt over me and I began the long process of bringing her to an orgasm. She appeared very comfortable in this new position and thrust her pelvis up and down allowing herself to be stimulated by my nose. I, on the other hand, had no means of extracting myself from her and was basically stuck with my face lying heavily on her. Once we had built up a rhythm I managed to breathe between thrusts and gradually used my tongue on her clitoris.

"Don't stop what you are doing," she said as her stockings slid over my neck and shoulders and her stiletto heels scraped my back.

"Faster, quicker," she groaned as I persisted with my tonguing. 

Beneath her pleats her cunt overflowed with a mixture of my saliva and her natural lubrication. My air space was very confined and had an intense sour-sweet stench. She gripped my head with the pale flesh above her stockings and she pulled me even further into her. By now her movements were frenetic and around my ears and cheeks I felt the tight coolness of her underslip sliding over me. Her jerking increased in pace and as she brought herself ever closer to her 'ultimate pleasure' she gripped my head so hard almost as if her very life depended on it.

"Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh," she whispered over and over again as she upped the pace even more. 

My penis stood out like a ramrod and was almost painfully stiff. I vowed that I would get one of the two remaining girls to suck me or wank me off. The morning had been a continuous period of sexual frustration and I felt that I could not survive. I was determined to speak to the headmistress and insist on some changes.

Eventually Miss Russell rippled and spasmed and I felt her orgasm through her thighs which were clamped tightly to my ears. She pulled up her skirt and I gasped for breath. Her petticoat was wringing wet and had absorbed a good deal of moisture. She swung her legs over me and got up, pulling up her panties and shaking down her pleats. I tried to spit out pubic hair. Miss Wiff-Naseford pulled me back so that I was kneeling on my heels again. She dribbled saliva on my face and, with her knickers, once again, tried to clean me up.

The final girl was Sally Thomas. She had dark, almost black, hair and large brown eyes. I noticed that she had a squint. She sat on the settee in front of me and eased down her knickers. They were lime green French knickers with white lace trim. She swung her black stockinged knees up so that I was faced by her delightful bottom and pubic hair. I leant forward as she opened her legs and draped her knees over my shoulders. The additional weight pulled me forwards and my face ended between her legs. Her aroma was amazing. It had an attraction that only fresh young cunts can exude. It smelled very palatable and I set off licking, delving and tonguing her. She squealed with obvious satisfaction as I parted her labia and exposed her clitoris. 




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 21



From that point onwards I enjoyed pleasuring Miss Thomas. Every movement of my tongue brought forth gasps of approval and muscular ripples from her vaginal opening. She was like an automaton, reacting to my stimulations in a precise and predictable way. After ten minutes of continuous frottage and clitoral licking she came, not once but several times. Her orgasm appeared to last for several minutes. 

Her moans and sighs filled the room and I noticed Miss Wiff-Naseford look at her, and at Anita Russell, aware that this girl had attained the very highest peaks of intense physical pleasure.

The head teacher called Anita to join her and Sally in untying me from my straps. By now my knees, thighs, neck and back were painfully stiff. As soon as I was released I stretched and flexed every muscle in my body. I rubbed my body in an attempt to restore my circulation. I felt and looked like a bombsite.

"Well Tom it's about time you were relieved of your frustrations," said the head mistress urging me to lie on the long leather settee.

I lay full length along it with my head near to one of the arms. My body already looked and felt healthier because I could stretch and breathe properly. Without prompting, Anita sat on the arm of the chair and swung her legs over me and placed her four inch stiletto heels on my chest. I looked up at her seamed stockings and rear suspender clips which were almost within licking distance. Needless to say my penis crawled up my stomach almost to my navel. Sally sat between my legs and began caressing my thighs and stomach. The headmistress returned to her chair and watched the display. 

Within a few minutes she was masturbating me as if by second nature. She appeared to know when to speed up and when to slow down. I explored Anita's legs and stockings feeling the smoothness of the black nylon moving under my finger tips. Anita spread her skirt and petticoat over me and I stared up at her lingerie and breathed in her feminine aroma. All around me I was bombarded by erotic stimulation. It was only a matter of time before I came and I felt a thick wave of semen building up inside my testicles. Within two seconds I had spurted five long warm strands and globules over Sally's fingers. She put them to her lips and licked them and smiled.

"Well that must have been worth the wait Mr.Tom," she said as she swallowed my sperm.

* Monday Lunch * 

Matron was summoned by Miss Wiff-Naseford and I was led away for a shower. I have to say that it turned out to be one of the most relaxing experiences I have had. I felt sated that I had been milked, and I felt happy that I had only forty more girls to satisfy. Miss Wiff-Naseford appeared happy with my latest suggestion that I should only be fettered by the ankles and that I should lie on a rubber mat and not on the carpet. We agreed that we would return to me lying on my back and the third year girls could decide how I was to pleasure them. 

The head teacher said that Classes 3A and 3B did not wear school uniform and that the girls could wear whatever they liked except for trousers.

I took my lunch in the shower room changing room as no one could remember what happened to my clothes. Clearly they did not want a naked man in the dining refectory.

After lunch the first five girls from Class 3A trouped in. They were greeted very formally by the head. Clearly she regarded them as 'free thinking young ladies' and not as truculent mindless school girls.

I had been tied down by my ankles with my legs wide apart, but my hands remained free. The rubber mat cushioned my shoulders and buttocks and I was reasonably comfortable. Miss Wiff-Naseford warned me not to try any 'funny business' as she put it as the police could be swiftly summoned. I had no desire to get the police involved so once again I agreed to the punishment.

The first young lady to step forward was Caroline Smith. She was a very elegant slim girl with legs which appeared to end at her armpits. She was stunningly good looking and her makeup was perfect. She wore a crisp white blouse and a powder blue knee length cotton skirt, over flesh coloured stockings. From my viewpoint at floor level she looked amazing. As she clattered across the floor in her three-inch heels I couldn't help myself from staring at her flared skirt hem and wondering what lay beneath. 

The head teacher told her to remove her knickers and to sit on my face. The twenty year old understood immediately what was required and muttered something about having been orally pleasured by her cousin. I could not work out whether the cousin was male or female.

Miss Smith reached under her skirt and pulled down her knickers. They were silky lacy French knickers in a delicate shade of blue. I caught a glimpse of her white lacy petticoat and my penis grew both in length and girth. 

"Oh my, oh my," I whispered to myself as she stood next to me.

I stared up her skirt at her stockings where they were attached to frilly white suspenders. I reached up and touched her petticoat hem feeling the soft laciness spill through my fingers. She stepped over me so that her feet were on each side of my face facing Miss Wiff-Naseford who sat in her armchair behind me. I kissed her ankles and licked her shoes. I felt so small and spindly staring up this young lady's petticoat. She rubbed her patent leather shoes against my face and I almost purred with pleasure. I caressed her nylons allowing the silky smoothness to caress the back of my hands. I heard the froufrou sounds of her stockings rubbing against the inside of her slip.

"Right Miss Smith you had better sit on Mr.Tom now and let him do what he's good at," said the head teacher, once again in control.

Slowly I watched her crotch descend on me. Her pubic hair engulfed my nose and I breathed in her heady aroma. Immediately my erection grew in strength as she began wiping her damp curls gently but firmly backwards and forwards over my face. I tried to talk but her genitals got in the way. My hands fondled her buttocks and savoured the silky smoothness of her young skin under her slip.

She rearranged her clothing over me so that only the lower part of my naked body could be seen by the other young ladies standing near the door.

The scene must have appeared totally erotic. Here was I, a thin, short, naked twenty year old boy lying on a rubber mat in the headmistress' study. My legs were pulled open by long ropes and leather straps attached to metal rings screwed to the floor to either side of the window. My erection would have appeared proportionally larger than its actual size because the rest of me was so puny.

On top of me, squatting with her knees apart, hovered a smartly dressed, immaculately made up twenty year old young woman. Her genitals were resting on my face and her flared skirt and petticoat draped over me. Only the head teacher could have seen my face which was buried under Miss Caroline Smith's thighs. From her angle, sitting in front of Miss Smith's open knees, she would have seen my tongue at work up the young woman's skirt. She may also have noticed my hands at work caressing the final year student's derriere.

Ten minutes later precum dribbled out of me like thin glistening strings, and the frenetic threshing above me announced Miss Smith's orgasm. I gripped her buttocks, supporting her as she moaned and groaned, then spasmed violently. I stared in awe at her nylon petticoat which shimmied and shook, making hushed swishing sounds around me under her thin cotton skirt. From nowhere she deposited a great volume of sexual secretion over me, and then it all went quiet. Slowly and carefully she rose from me and the afternoon sun shone on me and caused me to blink.

I wiped the vaginal slime from my face with some paper tissues and waited for the next young lady.

"Miss Julie Middleton, if you please," yelled Miss Wiff-Naseford at a thin tall girl with long blonde hair. 

She smiled as she walked across the room. She wore a black sweater, over a wide brown check tweed skirt which ended at her calves. She wore dark grey stockings and brown court shoes. Her heels were two inches tall. Her heavy skirt swayed as she walked.

"You know what to do Julie, pants off and pop yourself on to Tom's face."

I stared at her skirt hem anxious to see her petticoat. I could tell by the way she walked that it was likely to be a stiff net crinoline and it was. She reached under her skirt and layers of white net cascaded outwards and upwards. It was difficult to believe that so many gathers and flounces could be concealed under her flared gathered skirt. 

Deftly she removed her knickers and dropped them on my face. I grabbed them and turned the warm undergarment inside out and breathed in her odour. I rubbed them over my nostrils, snorting like a horse, extracting every sensation from them. I held them up and examined them. They were white cotton covered in eyelet lace and little pink rosebud patterns. I could not put them down. Above me Miss. Middleton stepped over my face with her shoes touching my cheeks. I cast her knickers to one side and stared up her skirt which hung just inches above me. 

Her stiff net petticoat filled her skirt so that it was impossible to see her cunt nestling, amongst her curls waiting for my tongue. I tried to prize her petticoat layers apart but it proved difficult. She bent her knees and pulled up her skirt and squatted on my face. All around me were masses and masses of stiff coarse net, trimmed with white leaderline. I still couldn't find her vagina so between us we rearranged her vast underskirt until suddenly in front of me were her hairy lips. All around me she pulled and pushed her skirt and nylon net until I was engulfed in her petticoat-world and experienced the darkness and quietness beneath her.

I began licking her and probing her with my tongue. The trapped warmth of her body and aroma stimulated me so that once again my penis rose up and lay stiffly against my stomach. Instinctively I reached down and began masturbating, moving my tongue in time with my wanking. With my free hands I could now relieve myself whenever I liked, and I suddenly felt emancipated, and able to control my own orgasms. 

The young lady squatting on my face held onto my head and gradually drove herself closer to her orgasm. I licked frantically at her clitoris, combining flicks with more subtle sucks and light lapping movements. I continued wanking, aware that four pairs of eyes were probably watching my fingers pulling my foreskin over my glans in a wild jerking manner. I felt seminal fluid steadily rise up my penis. I slowed down trying to delay and extend my pleasure. It was too late I rammed my face into her cunt, grunted, moaned and ejaculated. I spurted everywhere, across my stomach, up my arms and into her skirt. 

She shuddered, juddered then 'came', breaking wind at the same instance. Her petticoats filled with rectal odours and I shook myself free, pushing her off me.

The woman apologised for her farting, and I grinned at her,"These things happen," I said, secretly glad that she hadn't farted earlier.

Back on her feet I watched her shake her clothing down and rearrange her heavy tweed skirt over her huge petticoat. I wondered whether any of the other young ladies wore similar clothing. I propped myself up on my elbows and watched the next girl, a brunette with short hair, clatter towards me. She wore black sling-back high heeled sandals, and black stockings. I stared in fascination at the toe reinforcement which was in a darker shade of black. Her heel reinforcements were similar too as she twirled around above me. 

I stared into her green eyes and she said, "Hello Tom, I hope you don't bite." I explained that if I did the police would be involved.

"Come on Wanda, or Miss Doran, as we are all ladies now, aren't we dear?" said Miss Wiff-Naseford who had remained remarkable quiet during my session with Miss Middleton.

I wiped myself down with another tissue and stared in more detail at this woman's clothing. She wore a short knee-length box pleated plaid skirt, above which she wore a short-sleeved blouse. Her lipstick was dark red and she wore glasses. I caught a glimpse of black petticoat hem, and my penis began to stiffen noticeably.

"What was it about black underwear?" I wondered. "Was it the fact that contrasted so much more against skin and legs?"

I stared at her hem noticing that her petticoat lace was at least three inches deep. I stiffened further as she pulled down a pair of black lacy French knickers and waved them in my face. I caught the warmth and aroma of her and snatched them off her. I wrapped them around my penis and testicles and began wanking. She grabbed them back from me and threatened to stamp on my genitals if I soiled them with semen.

The old hag behind me shouted, "Bravo, bravo," and whooped with pleasure. "That's it Wanda, show him some spirit."

Under her skirt and petticoat I slurped my way between her slimy lips and fifteen minutes of intensive clitoral licking produced an ear splitting shriek. My face was completely plastered with her spendings and I was also bathed in sweat.

Ellen Hardwick strode across the room, her hips gyrating from side to side. She was a black haired girl with dark Latin features. She wore a pale green shirt-waister dress which ended just below her knees. She was clearly wearing a bouffant petticoat by the way her dress swayed from side to side. Ellen slipped off her white French knickers and dropped them on my face. Avidly I rubbed her warm damp crotch over my nose as she positioned herself straddling my head. 

Gradually she opened her legs and bent her knees until her coarse black curls enveloped my nose. Immediately I began probing her labia until she opened and revealed her inner lips and clitoral hood. She shook her skirt and petticoat over me and waited for the slow progress to her orgasm to begin. Her moans and whimpering above me was only faintly audible through her dress and multi layered net petticoat. I watched her flinch in time to my tonguing, and all about me her frilly flouncy underthings swished and froufroued.

I watched in fascination as her suspenders flexed with every movement of her thighs. Soon she was bouncing up and down on my face and I had to support her to prevent injury. Ten minutes of vigorous tonguing produced the desired end result. She came in pulses and waves, each accompanied by tiny groans and sharp intakes of breath. I pushed her further until she could take no more. 

Her knees cracked as she stood up and I emerged once again into the brilliant light of afternoon sun streaming through the window. My penis was stuck to my stomach by precum and semen as I once again I had pleasured another of the school's students.

Elizabeth Daniel, the fifth girl was experiencing a period so was dismissed. On the way out the young ladies were asked to usher in the next five girls from Class 3A.

(Continued in part 22) 



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 22



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old' one Friday. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it. 

I had decided not to get the local police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to 'Peeping Toms'. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and tethered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards at each corner of the room. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part twenty two of my sorry tale.)

*

Elizabeth Daniel, the fifth girl, was experiencing a period so was dismissed. On the way out the young ladies were asked to usher in the next five girls from Class 3A.

On my back I watched the door open and five fresh faced young ladies trouped in. I could tell by the noise from their shoes that they all wore high heels. They looked at me and sniggered.

"Quiet please young ladies and gather round," said Miss Wiff-Naseford standing astride my face. I stared up at her now familiar muff and found myself stiffen once again.

"You may have understood that Tom here is being punished for straying into the grounds of our school with binoculars," she said as they clunked about me wearing their cruel looking four-inch stilettos.

"Well we have persuaded him to pleasure each student individually with his tongue, to 'bring her off' or 'take her to her orgasm' as it were." She went on.

"But all this is taking up far too much time so I have now decided that Tom can stimulate two girls at the same time can't you Tom?"

"Um..err... yes, but.err... how headmistress?" I asked politely but with a puzzled look on my face.

"You will..err...how can I describe it..'finger-fuck' the first girl until she is almost ready for her orgasm then finish her off with your tongue. Got it?"

"So I have one lady on my face while I have my hand up the second young lady's skirt. Is that what you mean?" I said, trying desperately to imagine how it could be done.

"Yes that is the general idea Tom. Well we'll try with the first two straight away. Wendy Mason and Sarah Gardner. Ah yes, do you understand? Now Sarah sit next to Tom with your knickers off and legs apart."

I watched the slim six-footer pull up her 'autumn' skirt, decorated in a yellow and brown leaf pattern, and ease down her panties. For one delicious moment I stared at her American tan stockings and lemon yellow petticoat and matching suspender belt. My penis jerked about as she sat next to me and then lay with her legs open with my right hand resting on her pubic hair. 

I stared down at her. Her head lay on my outstretched leg and I watched her flip her skirt and petticoat over her knees allowing me a luscious view up her skirt. I rubbed her pubic mound until I felt her juices flow. Slowly, and with great care, I eased her open with my middle finger. I gradually introduced a second, then a third and began wiggling them around inside her. She flinched then relaxed and gyrated her hips in pleasure. I watched fascinated as her legs twitched and opened even further. She was clearly very aroused and groaned with obvious satisfaction. 

Miss Wiff-Naseford stepped to one side and ushered Sarah onto my face. This time she crawled up my body and turned around and placed her dripping buttocks over my mouth. In no time at all my nose was pushed into her anus as my tongue flicked at her clitoris. Beneath her cotton skirt and nylon petticoat I could hear the head teacher tell Wendy Mason to remove her knickers and sit where Sarah had just sat. I reached down, under her skirt and found the warm patch of damp hair and began the process of stimulating her pubic area.

Above me I felt Sarah's arse shake then spasm, then shake again. All around me her smooth nylon petticoat shimmied and swished as one orgasmic wave followed another. I was caught up in miniature storm as she swung her bottom from side to side, in an attempt to extract every ounce of pleasure from the contours of my upturned face.

Miss Wiff-Naseford tapped her on the shoulder and she stood up and I said goodbye to her upskirt world. Immediately Wendy sat on my face this time facing towards the headmistress.

I was buried under a pale pink petticoat and thick thighs above her dark tan stockings gripped my cheeks. My right hand was thrust up someone else's skirt and I felt the soft fleshy folds of someone's cunt under my finger tips. With my hand plastered with lubrication I squeezed and tweaked her clitoris and felt her bounce about gripping my wrist with her free hand. Above me I tried to cushion Wendy's bouncing and jerking which became more and more furious. After about two or three hundred bounces Wendy 'came' and spurted her sexual secretions all over my face and hair and was hauled off by her headmistress who was now taking a much more active role in the proceedings.

Another pair of feet straddled me. It was apparently Annette Evans. I quickly noticed a bright blue skirt and dark brown hair, before I was engulfed by more petticoats, stockings and lace-edged suspenders. My tongue went straight between her legs and her 'love-tunnel' gaped open like a large cavern. 

My face became a slick of spendings as my hand was pushed up some other young woman's dress and into a nest of tight curls. I prized her open and began masturbating her vigorously unaware of whom she was. I wanted to wank too but had difficulty doing it to myself with my left hand as I am basically right-handed in everything I do, even tossing myself off.

I heard Miss Wiff-Naseford tell her to ask for the next five young women to enter, just as I brought Miss Evans to a shuddering, cursing, climax.

I glimpsed the next girl. She appeared to be African or Afro-Caribbean and sat firmly on my head with her cunt in my face. Her odour was extremely strong and reminded me of Maria Kingsland in the first year. Her name was Tina Cullen and I slurped my way between her labia at the same time easing my fingers inside Melissa Britton who sat open legged with her skirt up on my right hand side. 

Under Tina's large gathered floral dress with pale blue underskirt the atmosphere was almost unbearable. She clearly perspired a great deal and her combined cunt and body odours made it difficult for me to breathe. The stench was not totally off-putting, but my penis once again became ramrod stiff and lay firmly across my naked belly. 

Both young ladies were moaning and groaning as Miss Wiff-Naseford shouted further words of encouragement. 

Miss Cullen wiped her lips in jerking movements up and down my nose. My nostrils filled with her cunt juice and I snorted wildly trying to keep my nasal passages open. Meanwhile Melissa was squealing like a piglet on the end of my fingers. Gradually Tina grunted and climaxed pumping out warm spurts of fanny-juice into my mouth and nostrils. I was aware of the study door opening a several other girls enter by the sound of their heels. 

Tina stood up and Melissa placed her shoes on each side of my face squatting down. I noticed her dark stockings a white broderie edged slip then everything went dark and quiet under her black tweed flared skirt. I heard Miss Wiff-Naseford give the new young ladies their instructions, and enquire whether they were having periods. One left so I assume she was. My right hand found itself between a fresh pair of warm thighs. I felt her stocking tops and suspender clips then I pushed my way into the damp hair. Above me Melissa was gradually 'bringing herself off' on me, and was very vocal about it as well. 

"You fucking face fucking cunt-licker," she cried out, clearly not in complete control of her vocabulary, neither displaying the wealth of genteel knowledge acquired during her three years at Dentwood finishing School for Tall Girls.

"Get your fucking tongue up my fucking twat you fucking miserable arse-licking fucking wanker," continued Miss Britton clearly disappointing her mentor by her random use of choice swear words.

Eventually she gripped my tongue with her vaginal muscles and pulses, and waves shuddered into me as she orgasmed above me, her clothing shaking in the final dying spasm.

"Up you get Melissa," said the head teacher beckoning Stephanie Bishop onto my face.

I had a second to take Miss Bishop in. She had angular horse-like features with a hooked nose and large teeth. I stared up her skirt which stank of urine and fanny-juice and had little time to prepare myself as she straddled my face with her pale tan stocking thighs. Her petticoat was cream and I could not tell what colour her skirt was from the inside. Immediately she scraped her protruding labia over my nose and mouth. I was buried under masses of tight ginger curls, which smelled ghastly. Needless to say my penis stiffened once more and I tried to wank but failed miserably.

My right hand stroked the inner thighs of another unknown woman, whose lips were already quite prominent and flowed with sexual secretions. 

"Oh my goodness, Oh my," someone said. 

I couldn't work out whether it was the woman on my face or the one gripping my three fingers inside her. The familiar bouncing, jerking and rocking began as both young ladies pushed themselves ever forwards and onwards.

Above me Stephanie Bishop moaned and wailed, clearly willing herself to achieve her pleasure. She was on a 'plateau of exquisite sensations' and only needed a bit more tonguing to 'push her up into the peaks'. Then she came. It was like a tidal wave of physical emotion as I felt her body twitch and shudder involuntarily over, and over again. Her petticoat swished wildly as she regained her feet and stepped off me. 

Tanya Gaulton sat full-square on my face. I saw her head hair; it was blonde and wavy then I was inside her dress staring at her other, pubic, hair, this time darker and coarser. Her hole still gaped open following my fingering and I set about licking my way into her. Her labia were warm and slimy and I felt my head whirling with all this sexual stimulation. 

A hand grabbed my penis and began jerking it just as I felt shoes dig into me and my hand pushed up someone else's skirt. I pushed my fingers into a fanny which was already wet. My penis was being expertly wanked by the woman, I assume, I was fingering. 

Meanwhile Tanya was bouncing about on me mercilessly, deliberately squashing my face and pushing my head into the rubber matting. I was almost in pain as I felt semen begin to rise inside me. The hand at work on my penis was a mere blur, and the milking seemed to last forever. My fingers were working at a breakneck speed, pushing this woman further and further. 

Tanya Gaulton climaxed then got off me just as I 'came' into Vanessa Armitage's hand. She wiped herself on my stomach and swung her dark tan stockinged legs over me and straddled my face, pinning down my shoulders. I found it difficult to reach the thighs of Sylvia Davenport who now sat within reach with her knickers off and her legs wide apart.

I took in Vanessa's smiling face just as she dropped her grey striped cotton skirt and white lace petticoat over me and shuffled up to place her dribbling cunt over my nose. I pushed my tongue into Vanessa's hairy hole and pushed my third finger into the damp stickiness of Miss Davenport's vaginal opening. 

We continued in this way for some time with Maureen Price in her bright yellow shirt-waister and white petticoat taking over from Miss Davenport. 

Gail Hailwood took ages to pleasure but was very vocal, and I enjoyed having her sit on my face in her pale blue flowery dress with pink petticoat, and black stockings. 

Victoria Spooner was a lively Irish girl with ginger hair and a huge arse. At one point I thought that I would faint under her wide multi-tiered layered petticoat, because her 'between-the-legs' odour was so astringent. She kicked me with her shoes as she got up. 

Heather Coulthread had an arse which moulded itself to my facial features, and had a scent that I wished to breathe in forever. 

Natalie Santana and Beverly Taylor were both having periods so were prevented from joining in, although they enjoyed sucking me off, which proved to be a grand finale for the head teacher, and for Class 3A.

The girls left the room after they had all pulled their knickers back on. The room had a stale smell to it and Miss Wiff-Naseford opened a window. It was now half past three and we had certainly pleasured many more of the third year than I could have predicted.

"How are you Tom?" she asked in an unexpected buoyant mood. 

I told her that I could do with a glass of water and a flannel to wipe off all the female secretions on my face, hair and ears. She rang the bell and Celia appeared, and then reappeared with the water and two face-cloths. 

I flexed my muscles and lay back on my mat, happy to go to sleep through all my effort. Celia and Amelia stood over me taking it in turns to straddle my face.

Celia was amused to see my penis visibly lengthen as she stood over me. I stared up her skirt, and white slip, at her thighs above her stockings and the loose gusset of her white French knickers barely hiding the curly tufts of her pubic hair. I felt unusually attracted to this frumpish secretary particularly following our 'night of lust' as she had described it. I was hoping for a similar night but whom with? That was the question.

The three of us remained in conversation until Miss Wiff-Naseford made up her mind that we would pleasure at least five members of Class 3B before the evening meal that night. 

"Tom, you know that this school was founded to give those girls who are exceptionally tall a good education and to prepare them for the outside world and all the social and employment pitfalls they might meet beyond these walls?"

"Yes," I replied looking bewildered.

"And we have also told you that very tall women are at a disadvantage when it comes to socialising and...err...marriage, well the opposite is true as well," she continued. 

"What would you say if we told you that Class 3B are all exceptionally short women?" she smiled at me waiting to see my reaction.

"You mean 'short' as in 'really short'? Midgets and dwarves?" I asked wondering whether I was going to be asked to perform oral pleasuring upon circus acts or members of a freak-show.

"No Tom, these are ladies who are small and look much younger than they are, although they are all between eighteen and twenty years of age." She said trying to reassure me.

"But why have I not seen them before?" I enquired, this time insisting she tell me the whole truth.

"If truth be known Tom they eat in a separate refectory, because they prefer fish and rice dishes," she said, muddying the water even further.

"Well what nationality are they?" I continued clearly adamant in obtaining the truth.

"Japanese Tom, Japanese," she replied as my eyes lit up.

I had always liked Japanese women. They had a doll-like attraction and always appeared so courteous and charming and here was I just about to orally pleasure, presumably, twenty of these little beauties. 

I could not wait to breathe in the odour of their ripe little cunts or have them screeching their little ecstatic orgasms on the end of my tongue. My penis by now was rock hard as I stared up Miss Wiff-Naseford's prim pleats.

* Class 3B

*

The first five girls entered the headmistress's study. They were very short, no taller than four foot six inches, but perfectly proportioned. They bowed first to the head teacher, then to Celia and then to me. They giggled at my penis and pretended to cover their eyes in embarrassment. 

Very slowly and with great patience Miss Wiff-Naseford explained to them that I was a 'Peeping Tom', and I liked to look at women's bodies, preferable naked or in sexy lingerie. They all laughed at this and lifted their skirts to show off their stockings and suspenders. I laughed back hoping that I appeared to pose no threat to them.

She told them about the police and the traditional method of punishing a Peeping Tom, including all the straps and ropes and the fact that I couldn't wank to satisfy my frustrations. They laughed and gasped as they realised what they had to do. I watched their body language. One or two were massaging their legs, and standing with their feet apart. I thought that it would only require a few minutes each to bring them to their climaxes. They appeared eager to get on with it. So did I.

Miss Wiff-Naseford then had to explain that she wanted no-one who was having a period to take part.

"No period, and no peepee in Tom's mouth, understand? Yes?" she said to them, and she was met by lots of smiles and nodding heads.

I hoped that they understood as I wanted so badly to get through the rest of the school as quickly as possible.

I lay flat on my back with my legs stretched apart but with both hands free. 

"Amaya Sasaki please step forward, ah Amaya, knickers off and pop onto Tom's face," she said to the little lady dressed in an immaculate school uniform.

I watched as she pulled down her knickers and stepped out of them. She wore the usual Dentwood School uniform but wore white stockings instead of black ones. She also wore Mary-Jane buckled shoes. I noticed as she removed her pants she wore a crisp lacy white petticoat under her plaid pleats. She stepped astride me, smiled then waved. In one movement she squatted on my face and I was immediately under her pleats and petticoat. 

She pushed her vulva opening into me and I supported her small buttocks as I began prizing apart her lips. She smelled totally different from the other young ladies I had pleasured. There was a fishy spiciness about her and a delicate piquancy which was difficult to describe. I allowed her to rub herself against me at her own pace and within nine or ten minutes she was bouncing up on down on my upturned face. She weighed very little and I was able to comfortably bring her to her orgasm. She let out little screams and moans as she speeded up her movements. I stared at the petticoat lace that had now become wrapped around my head, and at the pleats which concertinaed out with each movement of her thighs and knees. Then all of a sudden she cried out her orgasm leaving my face sticky with her fanny-juice.

Amaya stepped off me and the next small Japanese girl stepped up. Her name was Haruka Yamamoto. She had a rounder, almost moon-shaped face and was much sturdier built. She slid her knickers down and stepped out of them. She placed one shoe then the other on each side of my face and squatted over my nose and mouth. I could see that she was aroused as her vagina drooled slimy secretions which trailed across my nostrils. She smelled slightly different but distinctly far-eastern. Within ten minutes Haruka was moaning and groaning with my tongue probing every nook and cranny of her labia and clitoris. 

I supported her firm buttocks as she came making little " Ehh, ehh, ehh, ehh," sounds, whilst crying at the same time. She appeared to be very emotional.

Katsumi Sato, Mariko Ito and Yuriko Arakaki followed Haruka and they all attained their orgasms fairly quickly. I was surprised how easily it was going. I managed to balance them adeptly above me and I had none of the heavy jolting, or neck breaking bouncing which I had experienced with the taller girls. 

Miss Wiff-Naseford looked at the clock and judged that we could continue pleasuring Class 3B until it was time for the evening meal. I drank more water as the first five were dismissed and the remaining fifteen were led in by Celia. I found it difficult to believe that all the girls standing by the door were eighteen and over as they looked so tiny. Most were four foot six inches tall although one or two were approaching five foot.




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 22



It took a while for Miss Wiff-Naseford to prepare them for me. When she told them to take their knickers off they all did so at once and my eyes feasted on many legs and petticoats and white stockings.

The first lady to step up to me was Shika Sato. She wasted no time in sitting on my face arranging her pleated skirt neatly around us and ensuring her flared petticoat hid me from the room. My penis remained rock hard and twitched as I slowly brought her off. I cupped her buttocks in my hands and handled her as if I was eating a ripe water melon. My face was so wet it certainly looked as if I had just eaten one. The fishy smell from between her legs seemed to seep into my skin.

Noriko Yoshida was a lively young lady. She wore her hair in bunches and appeared to be slightly cross-eyed, perhaps emphasised by her epicanthic folds. 

Immediately she positioned her Mary-Janes on each side of my face and squatted on my nose. She shook her plaid pleats and crisp nylon petticoat over me and began rocking herself over me, wiping her labia against my facial contours. Several minutes of intense jerking brought her to her crisis, and she screamed the room down. When she had finished her friends clapped and applauded her performance and she nodded and smiled as she pulled her knickers back on. It all seemed so unreal.

Misaki Tanaka was a slightly taller girl with big sparkling eyes. She stood astride my face looking down. I could not take my eyes off her cunt. It was disproportionately large and surrounded by thick hair. She lowered herself onto me and my mouth was filled with her muff. I could hardly breathe or swallow as she was so bushy between her legs. I managed to find her opening and eased her apart until I came face to face with her clitoris. I then sucked and licked her wildly.

She bounced up and down on me whimpering and crying at every bounce. I watched her skirt and petticoat fly up and down as her bouncing became more frantic. Soon she was straining to attain her orgasm. My hands gripped her buttocks as she raced along the home-straight. By now her jerking was manic and I had difficulty keeping up with her. 

My mouth was locked onto her vagina and I thrust my tongue into her as far as I could and then I felt it. A great muscular spasm gripped her and tightened her vulva. Wave after wave swept through her and I felt every one. Her orgasm seemed to eclipse all the others I had experienced in that room and my penis dripped precum onto my stomach.

Kimiko Hara took another ten minutes to reach her orgasm, Chiyo Tanaka took fifteen minutes. She exuded a very unusual odour and her spendings drained out of her as she climaxed. Miss Wiff-Naseford had to use both face-cloths to clean me up after that little lady. 

Ayaka Nakamura stood over me and twirled her pleats. She was clearly intrigued to have someone stare up her skirt and giggled outrageously. I licked my lips and stared at her hairy opening. She put her hand to her mouth and pretended to appear embarrassed. I nodded and winked. She then squatted on me and presented me with a beautiful little 'love-hole' to savour and enjoy. Many minutes later she was squealing with pleasure above me, my face once more drenched with cunt-juice.

Hiroko Suzuki was having her period, so too was Hoshi Kobayashi. The next little lady was Manami Yoshida who looked just like a life-sized doll; her features were so perfect and finely formed. She bounced on my face until she reached her orgasm and bowed to me afterwards in somewhat confused gratitude. It appears that it is difficult to bow to someone lying on the floor.

Naoko Endo and Shika Arai came very easily. It appeared that they were very familiar with their bodies and used my face as a smooth feature on which to masturbate. Again I felt that my head was a glorified sexual aid.

Another delightful girl stepped up to me and stood over my face. She introduced herself as Yuka Takahashi and she was twenty years old. I watched as she lifted her pink flowery petticoat and skirt and squatted over me, pressing her little hairy vagina against my lips almost as a kiss. I prized her lips apart with my tongue and savoured her movements as I took her to her orgasm. She appeared so grateful that she was in tears. Even Miss Wiff-Naseford appeared visibly moved by the young girl's tears. I had not seen the sentimental side of the head teacher's character before.

Three more petite Japanese women were left to pleasure.

Susumo Ono was a little 'peach' and a delightful one to suck too. Misaki Maeda looked quite shocked when she saw my penis positively straining with lust as I stared up her school uniform. Finally I bounced Aika Oshiro on my face and she orgasmed in tiny shrieks of delight. I watched as the girls, or should I say young women, put their underclothes back on and traipsed out of the study.

"Well, well Tom the whole of year three in one day, now it's only the staff to go and we had better discuss tonight's sleeping arrangements hadn't we eh? Mr. Peeping Tom," she winked at me in a lewd and suggestive manner.

(Continued in Part Twenty Three)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 23



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old' one Friday. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it. 

I had decided not to get the local police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to 'Peeping Toms'. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and tethered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards at each corner of the room. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part twenty three of my sorry tale.)

*

"Well, well Tom the whole of year three in one day, now it's only the staff to go and we had better discuss tonight's sleeping arrangements hadn't we eh? Mr. Peeping Tom," Miss Wiff-Naseford winked at me in a lewd and suggestive manner.

*

Monday Evening Meal.

* I sat at the now familiar 'high table' with Celia on one side of me and Matron on the other. I wore Celia's floral-print kimono as my clothes had still not been located. The scene must have looked very odd. Here was I the only man in the school sitting between two middle aged women wearing an outrageously feminine garment, looking very puny and sheepish at the girls in front of me in the refectory who were giggling and nudging each other. Fortunately they could not see what was happening under the table because the tablecloth hid everything below my waist from view.

Behind the tablecloth my kimono had been parted by Celia who was now stroking my rampant erection. Matron was also rubbing her smooth black stockinged leg against mine while having a conversation with Angel Richardson, the geography teacher. Celia and I talked about the weather, and about the meal and about everything except what she held in her hand. My eyes rolled with pleasure at her expert fondling and caressing of my most sensitive part. Soon she was wanking me and I turned red with embarrassment and excitement just as the pudding course arrived.

"Thank you Mavis," she said to a large waitress wearing a tight skirt. I stared at her swivelling hips and buttocks as she walked back to the kitchen realising that sooner or later my face would be pressed hard against them with my tongue up her pussy. Celia's milking was now too severe and I grabbed her hand and told her that I couldn't possibly ejaculate at the high table. I also told her that I wanted to eat my bananas and custard. Celia let me finish my meal in peace and my penis retreated into the confines of her kimono.

After the meal Miss Wiff-Naseford collared me.

"I have been giving some thought with regard to where you might sleep tonight and I think the best place for you is in Dormitory 3B," she said looking rather perky and self-satisfied.

"You mean with the small Japanese girls?" I asked.

"Yes but they are tiny Japanese girls I should say Tom. We had several requests from their house mistress that they wanted to repay you for 'bringing them off' this afternoon."

My mind was beginning to spin at the thought of fucking these delightful doll-like creatures.

"Um yes that (gulp) will be fine by me," I replied with my willy crawling out from between the open front of the Kimono and exposing it's bulbous purple head to the open air.

* The Japanese Girls' Dormitory.

* I followed the headmistress through a warren of corridors then across a lawn to a small low building tucked away amongst some trees. We entered and the smell of fish and rice hit me. This was clearly where the Japanese girls ate and lived. 

We proceeded down a short corridor to a green painted door and Miss Wiff-Naseford knocked and walked in. inside we were met by twenty pairs of sparkling eyes staring at us, and staring at my erection bobbing about in front of me which I was unable to conceal under my female attire. After much nodding, bowing, smiling and giggling I was left with the girls as the headmistress took her leave, winking at me. 

"Have a good night Tom, and try and conserve some strength for tomorrow," she said smiling at me and the girls who had gathered around me. 

I was taken by the fact that the girls were all shorter than me. For the first time in my life I appeared to be comparatively tall. It did not take them long to remove my kimono and they giggled again at the sight of my puny thin body and my large stonking erection. I felt lots of tiny fingers over it and heard lots of excited giggling.

The girls spoke some English but it was absolutely minimal and I had difficulty comprehending them and became more reliant on their gestures and mannerisms.

I was led to a bed by Chiko Tanaka, who bowed and said to me," We all want fucky fucky with you please, tonight yes please?"

I explained in sign language that that would be physically impossible as I needed at least half an hour to recover from 'shooting my load', or 'spurting the cream' as I tried to explain.

She appeared to understand and rubbed herself between her legs and said, "We sit on your face and make us 'pussy-delight', yes?"

"Yes 'pussy-delight' it shall be," I growled looking more like a caged tiger surveying his new meal which had just been thrown to him.

I lay on the bed on my back, with my head near the foot end of the narrow single bed, and the girls formed a line next to me. 

Chiko slid off her knickers and straddled my chest and shuffled forwards onto my face. She knelt on my shoulders with her thighs splayed and slid even further forwards so my nose was pushed firmly into her small hairy cunt. 

She dropped her tartan pleated skirt and petticoat over me and my hands were under her and soon I was stroking her white stocking tops and rear suspender clips.

Immediately my penis stiffened even more and slowly grew to its impressive maximum length. 

Another girl straddled my lower chest, and then a third girl sat astride my thighs. I now understood what was about to happen. They had decided to use an almost 'production line' method of facesitting me with each girl shuffling forward along my body as the other girl in front had 'brought herself off' on me.

I marvelled at the simplicity and efficiency of the set-up. A fourth girl sat open-legged across my knees and a fifth girl straddled my ankles. There was no way I could possibly arise and I began to feel panic. Above me the little eighteen year olds, (or were the nineteen or twenty? It was impossible to say) giggled and chattered as if waiting eagerly for a treat or present. They appeared to be in a waiting room queuing up to be orally pleasured.

Chiko jerked her cunt over my nose and held onto my head while whispering words I could not understand. I just lay there under her skirt and allowed her to slip and slide over me on the secretions she continuously oozed from her vaginal opening. 

Soon she was screeching little 'eh, eh, eh, eh,' noises as she approached her orgasm. Around my face her petticoat shook and shimmied. Above me I watched the waistband of her suspenders oscillate from side to side, and backwards and forwards, noticing the tension vary with each thrusting movement. I could not see her face but imagined that it was contorted in a pleasure seeking grimace.

"Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh," she screeched as she bounced up and down on my face, her small buttocks resting in my hands. She was so light and the bed was so soft that I felt no discomfort and licked avidly at the young woman's fanny drinking in her juices as she sat astride my face.

I decided to finish her off so I slurped my tongue firmly into her clitoris and lapped her forcefully for two to three minutes. Her hysterical weeping told me that she had 'come' and she kneeled up and then off me, pulling her pleats across my face, and I stared up at the next diminutive Japanese lady. 

Above me Shika Arai nodded and bowed then shuffled forward lifting up her pleated school skirt and broderie edged flared cotton petticoat. She then pushed her fine black curls into my mouth. 

Immediately my tongue was up her vagina slit as she shook her clothing over me. I felt her squirm with pleasure as I wiggled my tongue about between her labia. She flinched as I found the nub of her clitoris and I began flicking and delving at the little engorged protuberance under its hood. 

Her frantic pelvic movements against my supporting hands told me that she was enjoying what I was doing to her. My penis rubbed against the skirt of another girl who was straddling me. I jerked my penis around using voluntary muscle movements and thrusts of my buttocks. The girl took the hint and soon I felt small fingers grip my throbbing erection and begin milking me. I now felt really energised and mustered all my strength to fulfil Miss Arai's carnal desires.

Over and over again I licked her clitoris while her little cotton petticoat swished past over my head. Within seconds I felt her whimper then climax gripping my face between her small slim thighs.

Meanwhile the milking increased in tempo. It was clearly the girl astride my thighs who was in charge of my present exquisite condition. Shika slid off me, her small cunt dripping over my forehead and hair. I watched her petticoat and heavy pleats slide over me as she stood up and got off the bed. Above me another Japanese lady straddled my chest and shuffled forwards. I noticed her white stockings held up by pale pink suspenders. 

She smiled at me, giggling with embarrassment, as she pushed her thighs against my cheeks and placed her genitals on my face. Her name was Naoko Endo but, to be truthful, I could not easily tell the girls apart as my previous experience had been in recognising European faces, not far-eastern ones.

I breathed in her feminity as she began jerking her delightful warm wet vagina over me with ever increasing urgency. 

In the meantime I felt my penis being passed to the girl behind and another girl sat astride my ankles. I once again had five undersized Japanese girls straddling my body, pinning me firmly down. I touched their legs and felt the smooth scratchiness of their stockings, underslips and school skirts.

Under Naoko's skirt and nylon petticoat I concentrated my tonguing on her clitoris, and licked and sucked her until she mewed like a cat and began grinding herself into me. 

All along my body I felt small fingers fondle, probe and caress. I felt warm damp hairy vaginas on my knees, legs and stomach; I also felt the scratchiness of smooth stockings, suspender clips and plaid skirts. I felt as well the silky smoothness of nylon and cotton lace petticoats against my bare torso. My body was alive with tactile sensations and I felt a huge orgasm welling up inside me. 

The little lady on my face began bouncing and screeching as I fondled her small rounded buttocks. Her little legs lay across my shoulders as I pulled her closer into me and tongued her furiously, driving her wild with my incessant probing. She groaned and shuddered then screamed and juddered. Before long her whole body quivered on the end of my tongue. 

I could not believe how such a small frame could shake so much. Her fragrance overwhelmed me and I felt I was drowning in her aroma. My breathing came in short bursts as my penis was now being milked furiously by two unseen hands. I was now like a time-bomb ready to explode and found it impossible to hold back. The girls sensed my condition and giggled and fondled me more intensely. Soon tiny finger nails were scratching my testicles and thighs as the non-stop wanking continued. I couldn't take much more of this. I felt Miss Endo's orgasm welling up and I guessed that for her too it was just a matter of seconds. 

Then it happened. She pushed herself firmly into my face with all her weight. Her vagina muscles contracted as she screamed. At the same time I thrust my pelvis off the bed and ejaculated, groaning with both relief and pleasure.

I spurted six long strands of semen into someone's hands and lay back exhausted with Miss Naoko Endo's cunt dripping its secretions over my nostrils and mouth. Above me I heard the girls applaud my performance and pass the sticky slimy mess from hand to hand. I was aware of them sniffing my warm semen and make noises of approval. I stared at the underside of the waistband of Naoko's pink nylon petticoat and suspender belt and at her smooth rounded stomach and wondered how many more of these tiny girls required pleasuring that night.

Miss Endo slid forwards and off me dragging her plaid pleats over my face.

Another eighteen year old shuffled up my body and lifted her skirt. Her stockinged thighs slid past my ears as she rammed her warm hairy pussy into my face. She smiled down at me and nodded several times and said in her delicious high pitched Japanese accent "Pussy-delight Mr.Tom please, yes?"

I looked into her large almond eyes, and at her long black eyelashes. She was drop- dead gorgeous. 

"And what is your name?" I enquired.

"Kimoko Hara," she said nodding and smiling like a child in a sweet shop.

"Pussy-delight now please Tom? I shall cover you now with my uniform, please yes?" she continued as I squirmed with sexual ardour beneath her.

The other three girls shuffled up my body while another one straddled my feet. Kimoko dropped her flared white nylon petticoat with a narrow flounced lacy hem over me. I could just about see her smile through the semi transparent material then everything went black as she lowered her skirt and smoothed it around her waist and over me.

Small hands caressed my body and my heavy penis once again was lifted from my sticky stomach and manipulated by little fingers. I attempted to open my legs but there was too much weight on them. 

Underneath Kimoko's petticoat I licked and lapped at her now exposed clitoris. With each lick she yelped and flinched, then began bouncing on my face as I supported her buttocks. All around me I felt finger nails and smooth stockings sliding over my bare skin. I felt that this truly was paradise.

Then, to my complete surprise, the girl astride my lower chest began bouncing up and down on me, reflecting Kimoko's movements. Then the girl straddling my thighs and fondling my genitalia also joined in, so too did the two diminutive women astride my knees and ankles. The whole bed rocked as the five girls sitting on me jerked up and down.

I felt as if I was a 'life-raft in a heavy sea' and that these five small far-eastern ladies were relying on me to keep them afloat.

Kimoko's stockings swished against her underslip and against my head trapped between her thighs. I watched the waistband of her white nylon suspender belt flex and extend with every bounce.

I noticed her rounded stomach and navel above me ripple slightly on every 'down-bounce'. The aroma trapped under her skirt was amazing and I breathed it in eagerly. I pushed my tongue up her sopping cunt as far as it would go and listened to her little squeals of enjoyment as I wiggled it about inside her. 

Then it happened. The bouncing became more frantic. Up and down my body the girls pushed me further into the bed then allowed me to bounce out again. Above me Kimoko's vagina leaked secretions over me and I felt her wiping herself more violently over my face. 

She shouted "Ehh, ehh, ehh, ehh, ehh, and ehh." With each bounce.

"Ehh," bounce "Ehh," bounce, "Ehh," bounce, "Ehh," bounce, "Ehh," jerk, "Ehh," jerk... it went on and on for several minutes.

Her hands grabbed my head through her skirt as she finally' came' and I was unexpectedly drenched in her juices. I smelled incredibly fishy and was dying for a face cloth.

Miss Hara knelt up and swung her legs over me scuffing me with one of her Mary-Jane shoes as she did so.

"Sorry," she said and I asked for a towel. 

She did not understand and I stared up into the face of the next smiling pocket-sized lady with her hair in bunches.

She was Noriko Yoshido and looked like a large life-size doll. She remained sitting astride my chest with her skirt hem resting across my neck. She said something to me in Japanese, and all the girls laughed. The ones not sitting along my naked body had gathered around to watch. I felt trapped and vaguely ill at ease. 

I needn't have worried as Kimoko came back from the bathroom with what appeared to be a face-cloth. I, at last, would feel more refreshed and less sweaty and smelly.

She wiped my face with it and I suddenly became aware of a distinctive salty stench. She had urinated in her knickers and was now rubbing them all over my face and neck.

"For fuck's sake," I yelled angrily and they all laughed. 

Several girls dashed off to the toilets and came back with more dripping panties. With the weight of the girls on top of me I could only push these sodden undergarments off me with my hands. 

They came at me from several directions and inevitably some got through. I gave up fighting them and lay back on the sheet and put up with their giggling and stupid schoolgirl antics. I had little strength left and allowed them to wipe my face with their soggy knickers. 

One pair was followed by another, then another, then several more amidst shrieks of laughter. One girl squeezed the contents of her knickers over me and I felt completely humiliated as I endured all this face wiping. The room now reeked of vagina and urine and I felt that it mainly emanated from me.

One girl even urinated into a pair of socks and wiped them over me and I now began to get really angry I shouted at them and everything went quiet. I watched their eyes as they looked at me in astonishment, and then looked at each other.

"If you do not do as we say," said one of them, clearly the spokesperson, "We will tell the head mistress and she will inform the police, yes?" she said with perfect logic.

I felt trapped once again so agreed reluctantly to do whatever they wished.

Noriko Yoshida opened her knees further and shuffled onto my face. I watched her drape her wide flared white nylon petticoat over me, followed by her heavy pleated skirt. Again I was plunged into the now familiar dark underskirt world of a schoolgirl's uniform.

My penis had remained stiff through the evening and now appeared to be doing gymnastics inside the small hands of the girl who had begun to wank me off. I felt deliciously sexual and savoured the open lips on the tip of my wriggling tongue.

Noriko spasmed quickly and she knelt up and smiled down at me saying something in quick staccato Japanese, which received a long 'ooooh' from the other girls.

Amaya Sasaki slid onto my face and draped her pale blue nylon underskirt and school tartan pleats over me creating an airless space in which to practice my cunnilingus on her. She pinched my nose through her slip and skirt and I pinched her firm young bottom in an attempt to show her who was in charge. It was only when I fought for breath that she let me go and I gulped in the vagina smelling air which surrounded me.

I began to wonder whether I could keep up this constant tonguing which was required by these apparently merciless little girls astride me. I did my best but became increasingly weary and now needed sleep.

Next Katsumi Sato sat on my face. Under her skirt she smelled fairly mild compared with the others; at least she did not smell of perspiration. After her another smiling girl shuffled up to my face, legs apart. She looked very pleased with herself and nodded and bowed.

"Pussy-delight, yes please?" she asked bowing again looking innocently sweet and wholesome. 

She was apparently Manami Yoshida and had a brace on her teeth.




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 23



I pulled her onto me and began my expert tonguing. Her little pleats felt beautifully laundered and her petticoat slid through my fingers as her bouncing increased to break-neck speed.

Above me the now familiar "Ehh, ehh, ehh, ehh, ehh," sound filled the room as her class mates roared out their approval. 

She 'came' squealing with high pitched screams as I thrust my tongue into her and felt her vaginal spasms. Quickly she knelt up and eased herself off the bed, her pleats swishing over me as she stood up. In front of me the next open-legged girl slid up my body. I watched her hairy 'mons-pubis' as she thrust it into my waiting mouth. 

I had virtual given up caring about with the way I looked or smelled. I now felt like the proverbial 'marital-aid' or 'sexual toy'. My face, I had realised, was merely a contoured surface upon which women in all shapes and sizes could rub their cunts. I lay back therefore and allowed all these Lilliputian women to wipe or jerk themselves over me. I lost track of how many times I was used that night needless to say the activity extended into the early morning. Their sexual appetites seemed completely voracious. 

Haruka Yamamoto took over from Manami, and she in turn gave way to Yuka Takahashi who I knew to be twenty, but looked years younger. Beneath their skirts and petticoats I pushed them all to their orgasms, listening to their screams, cheers and constant 'eh, eh, eh," noises which they all made. 

Eventually, as time progressed, above me the girls were wearing nightdresses in all shades and colours. 

Clearly they had decided to get changed for bed and I enjoyed the view of pert young breasts wobbling up and down inside their loose attire as they bounced on my face. 

Some nightdresses were more feminine than others. Susumo Ono wore a pink gingham baby doll night dress trimmed with white broderie and eyelet lace. Misaki Maedo wore a long white nylon nightdress with deep lace hems and puffed sleeves. The girls now shuffled forwards and onto my face more quickly and urgently. I became aware that there were now two more women astride me and I was weighed down by seven undersized women. 

Aiko Oshiro wore a transparent flounced pink night dress and I stared at her breasts in intense fascination as she jerked herself against me. I could see her smiling down at me through her silky translucent bedwear and I noticed her face twist with pleasure as she brought her self off on me. Similarly Misaki Tanaka came in a flurry of deep white lace and lemon yellow flounces. Mariko Ito wore a baby blue cotton nightdress trimmed with broderie and eyelet lace and she screeched out her violent orgasm so loudly that I thought the windows would shatter. Yuriko Arakaki stared down at me with enormous eyes as she lifted her black nylon nightshirt over me and jerked her buttocks and cunt over me, and then orgasmed with little gurgling noises.

The production line seemed never ending particularly as I recognised Naoko Endo, now in her pink flounced nylon night dress astride me, having taken off her school uniform and was now seeking satisfaction the second time around. We carried on in this fashion until 1.00 am on Tuesday and I was becoming more and more tired. Eventually the last girl rubbed herself off on me and there was no one else behind her. I sighed with relief but this was short lived.

One of the girls said something loudly and everyone groaned. It was clearly bad news but I did not know why, or what had been said.

I stared around me in the gloom created by the reading lights which lit up each girl's bed. I watched as several of them went to the bathroom and others got into their beds. I wondered who normally slept in the bed I was lying in and I didn't have long to wait. I heard several toilets flushing and the sound of high-pitched giggling. Three girls appeared at my bedside including the spokesperson. There then came another wave of laughter as she announced the following.

"Mr. Tom, we have no longer any toilet paper left and we need to dry ourselves," she said laughing hysterically, "and you will have to lick us dry or we will tell Miss Wiff-Naseford," she exclaimed once again smiling and sniggering. 

She told me, by pointing and gesticulating, to place my upturned face on the bottom corner of the bed, which I did. I was now resigned to the fact that I was now to take the place of toilet paper for these Japanese women who had already made use of my face as a dildo or something similar. I now felt as if I was servant and these young women could use me at their whim. Meanwhile, for some unknown reason, I felt my penis stiffen like it had never stiffened before.

(Continued in chapter 24)  



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 24



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Miss Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old' one Friday. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it as I was caught with a pair of binoculars. 

I had decided not to get the local police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to 'Peeping Toms'. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and tethered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards at each corner of the room. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part twenty four of my sorry tale.)

* Early Tuesday Morning in the Japanese Girls' Dormitory.

*

"Mr. Tom, we have no longer any toilet paper left and we need to dry ourselves," the doll-faced Japanese girl said laughing hysterically, "and you will have to lick us dry or we will tell Miss Wiff-Naseford," she exclaimed once again smiling and sniggering with glee. 

She told me, by pointing and gesticulating, to place my upturned face on the bottom corner of the bed, which I did. I was now resigned to the fact that I was to take the place of toilet paper for all these Japanese women who had already made use of my face as a dildo or something similar. I now felt as if I was servant and that these young women could use me at their whim. Meanwhile, for some unknown reason, I felt my penis stiffen like it had never stiffened before.

From nowhere several pairs of hands appeared and tied me down to the bed using scarves, belts and rope, from goodness know where. My arms were tied together under the corner of the bed, while my ankles were pulled tight towards the headboard bed knobs. My head was lying exactly over the narrowest corner of the single bed and I could not escape. I was in the worst position I could possibly find myself in. Not only was I tied down, but tied down by a group of girls who hardly spoke any English in a part of the school isolated from any form of rescue. I really doubted that I would make it through the night.

Once I had been secured the bed side lights went out one by one. The girl who normally slept in my bed was nowhere to be seen. Presumably she was bunking-up with someone else, who knows. The only light in the dormitory shone from the bathroom door positioned at the end of the dormitory. By turning my head slightly I could see if anyone was using it.

I lay there staring up at the ceiling and wondered what the night held for me. Tried to sleep but there was too much whispering and giggling in the room.

In the darkness I heard two pairs of slippers walk past me and two tiny girls scamper into the toilet cubicles. I heard the flush of one, then two, lavatories, and then heard the same footsteps approach me. This was the moment I had been dreading.

Without ceremony, and certainly without any words, one of the girls pulled up her nightdress and sat astride my face. I was faced with a dripping mass of curls and I licked her as best I could, swallowing as much as her urine as possible. 

To my horror she squeezed a few more drops more out of her pee-hole and I was forced to swallow this as well, and completed the licking and drying with my tongue.

The other girl backed over me and lifted her long nylon nightdress. The smell was horrendous as she had dribbled urine down the inside of her thighs. She held one, then the other, thigh over me while I attempted to lick her dry. She then sat astride my face and I cleaned her up between her legs as best I could. In the darkness I could see her smiling and within seconds she was off me and padded quickly back to her bed.

Out of the gloom another girl trotted to the bathroom. She wore a pale cream cotton nightdress with white lacy hems. I heard the toilet flush and she suddenly appeared over me with her buttocks in my face and her nightdress pulled up to her waist. Again I licked as much of the moisture off as possible which left my mouth tasting of salt and found it difficult to swallow. It was clearly going to be a long uncomfortable evening.

All through the night these undersized girls kept using the toilets. One or two of them, I thought, just wanted my tongue inside them as they were not particularly damp, not with urine at least. At about three o'clock I fell asleep only to be woken at 7.30 am by another damp pussy in my face under a pale blue nightdress. She dug me in the ribs and pointed to her vagina opening.

"Lick clean please, hurry, hurry," she said as I opened one eye then the other. My arm sockets ached and I my mouth felt dry and stale. She dug me in the ribs again and I began licking her dry. She lifted her tiny rounded arse over me and I was forced to clean her perineum and lick the sweatiness from her thighs. She tasted disgusting but my penis began to expand. Soon I had my usual early morning 'hard-on' and I thought that it looked particularly impressive, particularly to these pint-sized Japanese girls. 

Another pair of legs inside a pale pink cotton nightdress with lace edging straddled my head. She lowered her cunt onto my face and squeezed my cheeks. She blurted something loudly and quickly in a squeaky voice and slapped my face. Clearly she was impatient to dry herself and as she got off me I saw that several girls were dressing even though it was only 8.00 am. From my position flat on my back, naked, with my head at the extreme lower corner of the bed I watched, unable to move or masturbate at the sexually exciting sights surrounding me.

Another moon-faced girl in a lime green gingham nightdress slipped her leg over me and sat astride my head, and dropped her hem over me. I stared up at her breasts as she wiped herself over my face. I licked off every drop of warm urine from around her vagina, but she remained sitting on me when I had finished cleaning her up.

"Pussy delight, pussy delight," she said in a tiny high-pitched squeal as she pushed down on me. She pushed down on me again, this time reaching behind her and squeezing my penis.

"Pussy delight, I want, yes," she said squeezing my penis again.

"I give 'Pussy-delight' if you give me 'Percy-delight'," I said hoping that she would understand. 

I was pretty desperate for a wank, it had to be said.

"Ooah, yes pussy delight now," she repeated this time holding onto the top of my head through her thin cotton nightdress. I now concluded that she did not understand and I was destined to have my face ridden by this miniature Japanese 'nose-jockey'.

After ten minutes of frantic jerking, during which time my hair, nose, cheeks and lips were plastered with thin colourless slime, she came with tiny 'eh, eh, eh,eeeeeh,' shrieks. I lay their staring up as she slid off me and went to the bathroom, presumably for another wee.

There was now a queue of girls next the bed. Some were still in nightdresses, some were wearing bras and panties, and some were in full school uniform. I was faced with small slim bare legs and legs in white stockings.

I had an enormous erection.

The girls straddled me and goaded me into performing the required cleansing of their vaginas and surrounding areas. Some were quite rude and slapped me, but I was in no position to argue. I did think about biting them, and drawing blood, but at the back of my mind I did not want to give Miss Wiff-Naseford any excuse for calling the police. I just had to grin and bear it.

"'Percy-delight' please, yes?" I said to the more astute of the small girls, but no one appeared to understand. I looked down at my swollen knob end and smiled at them.

"Percy-delight?" I said, aware that a small string of precum was hanging off the end.

A distant bell sounded and the room suddenly emptied and I was left alone lying in the morning sunlight with the shadows of trees flitting around the room. I was also aware of the sound of birdsong. I surveyed the dormitory. The beds had crisp white duvets on them and despite the apparent recent reckless burst of activity they had left the room comparatively neat and tidy. I concluded that they were clearly well organised compared with the British contingent of the school.

* Doris the Cleaner

*

After twenty minutes or so I began to wonder whether they would return to the room soon to untie me. I was now almost numb with discomfort and my shoulders and wrists hurt like hell. Panic gripped me as it dawned on me that they may have gone straight to their lessons after they had breakfasted. Another ten minutes went by and then I heard a sound. The door opened and someone walked in. I heard slow heavy footsteps and a cleaner, probably in her early sixties, wandered in with a box of toilet rolls under her arm.

"Well who the bloody fucking hell are you?" she asked uncouthly, standing next to my bed, putting down her box.

I explained that I had been caught in the school grounds on Friday and had been mistaken for a Peeping Tom, and had had to endure terrible punishments in the head teacher's study over the past three days. I also told her that I had been forced to perform oral pleasuring on all the girls and that I had had to act as a 'toilet slave' to all the little Japanese girls. I stared up at her with my 'little-boy-lost' innocent eyes and asked her to untie me. 

She looked at me intently and then looked around the room. Without saying a word she returned to the door and locked it. 

She was a stout grey-haired woman and wore a pale blue faded knee-length floral dress which buttoned down the front. Her shoes looked old and worn and one of her dark tan stockings was laddered. As she approached the bed she picked up the box and walked into the bathroom. I heard her distribute the toilet rolls amongst the four cubicles. I also heard her cleaning the toilets and flushing them out. She also spent some time attending to the washbasins and showers. She also used one of the toilets as I heard her urinate cough and fart.

"Well young man," she said as she reappeared next to me, "you can bloody well tongue-fuck my pussy while I'm here, and you'd better do it well or else they'll find you with no bollocks when they all get back at lunch time."

My heart began to race as I stared at this wrinkled old crone, and at her flabby arms and double chins. She took out her false teeth and placed them on the bed.

"Come on then sonny give us a kiss to get us going," she said leaning over me, with her eyes shut and her mouth pursed. 

She leaned further towards me bending her knees. I tried to struggle and stared with complete revulsion at her mouth and encrusted fragments of food stuck to the corners of her lips. Clearly she had only just had her breakfast and she smelled of tea. Our lips touched and a big loose tongue flapped about and tried to push my mouth apart.

"C'mon son, a big kiss for your Aunty Doris," she chortled, forcing my mouth open with her fat fingers. 

She pinched my nose and I gasped for air. In went her tongue, like a piece of dead fish, and attacked my throat. I tried to pull away but she held me with her huge gnarled hands which gripped my cheeks like clamps.

I felt that I was in serious trouble, very serious trouble indeed. Her toothless gums sucked at my lips and I felt like throwing up, particularly as her breath smelled of cheap scent and general sweatiness. She appeared to be all my worst nightmares rolled into one. Her horrible tongue went everywhere inside my mouth and I felt I was being truly violated.

"More French kissy-wissy with your Aunty Doris, sonny," she said smiling and unbuttoning the top three buttons of her size 22 dress. 

I stared at her white bra which was large enough to hold two footballs. I watched the loose flesh shake as she lowered her cleavage onto my face. She chuckled and cackled at my demise and I could tell that she was going to prolong my torture for as long as possible. She was evidently in no hurry to 'bring herself off' on my face.

She slowly dragged her huge lace encased breasts backwards and forwards across my face and I had to breathe in the foul odour of sweat and overwhelmingly sickly perfume.

"Lovely, jubbly," she exclaimed as her nipples stiffened against my chin.

"Oooooh, lovely jubbly," she said rubbing herself over me once more. 

Her face descended on me for a second time and I was forced to French kiss her again and again. Her hideous toothless smile made her look like a mediaeval gargoyle or a grotesque carnival mask. I shut my eyes and tried to imagine that I was kissing someone else. Anyone was preferable to this witch, even Miss Wiff-Naseford.

All of a sudden she stood up. Clearly she was now completely aroused as she was constantly rubbing her breasts, buttocks and pubic area through her thin flowery dress. She looked down on me, grimacing, and slowly unbuttoned the lower five buttons of her dress to reveal a white nylon waist slip underneath. It was a plain slip and not especially lacy. I could tell that she had owned it for quite a while as it was torn in places and had yellowed with age. She lifted her dress hem and petticoat to reveal her stockings, stocking tops and suspender belt.

"Oh my, oh my," I muttered to myself as I noticed her thighs above her stocking welts.

They were thick, flabby and bulked out by cellulite. Her thighs actually hung over the tight tops of her hosiery. Her suspenders dug into her flesh and her stockings appeared to be stretched beyond breaking point. She moved up to me so that her knees touched my hair. I stared up at her grinning 'upside down face' as she slid her legs to either side of my cheeks.

"You can bring me off through my fucking knickers first young man," she said watching me, and sensing the fear in my face.

I struggled to pull apart the ties that held my shoulders and head to the bottom most corner of the bed but it was impossible and I lay there looking up. Doris held her dress and slip up to her waist and splayed her legs and then dropped her clothing over me. 

The smell suddenly hit me. I looked up to see a huge pair of white nylon knickers. They were loose fitting and had wide baggy legs. They were trimmed with a narrow band of lace and smelled revolting. She reached beneath her and began massaging her crotch. I stared mesmerized by her masturbation and the crude movements she made with her heavy fingers. Above me I stared at her horrible urine stained gusset. It was filthy and had the stench of a thousand toilets. 

Under her petticoat and only inches from my face I watched a stain in her knickers grow larger and darker. She was oozing vaginal secretions and clearly she would soon want me to finish her off.

"Oh bloody fucking hell," I murmured as she withdrew her hand and allowed me to see the full extent of the dampness between her legs. 

It looked as is if she has pissed in her knickers as they appeared so sodden with her spendings. Slowly but surely she splayed her legs further and bent her knees so that my nose was pushed firmly between her legs. The smell now was almost intolerable. It was like the acrid stench of ammonia mixed with rotten fish, only three times stronger. 

She rearranged her dress and slip so as to allow herself plenty of pelvic movement. All around me I was enclosed by her dirty undergarments and blubbery flesh above her dark tan nylon stockings. 

"Tongue out son," she ordered as she placed her hands on my chest to steady her.

I felt my penis lengthen and increase in girth and couldn't work out why. My body was clearly repulsed by this geriatric hag sitting on my face with her dress over me, but my mind wasn't, or was it vice versa. I wasn't sure which part of me was controlling my erection. I only knew that it was bloody stiff and I craved relief. 

"I said tongue out sonny," she said as she gripped my nipple and squeezed it viciously. I pushed my tongue up into the damp nylon and tasted the stomach churning secretions dribbling out of her. 

"Lovely, lovely," she moaned as she dragged her gusset over me. My nose was forced along the cleft between her legs and under her heavy buttocks. She slid herself over me several times as her fat knees creaked and cracked.

"Oh fucking yes, oh fucking lovely," she grunted like a sow in a mud bath.

I closed my eyes and salivated like fury, trying to dilute the taste from between her legs. The atmosphere inside the enclosed space under her waist slip and dress was now incredibly hot and humid. She appeared to be a naturally sweaty woman and I watched her thighs and stomach above her suspender belt glisten as she continued with her self pleasuring.

I slipped my tongue back into my mouth, hoping she wouldn't notice, but she did. I felt an agonising grip on right nipple as she chastised me and swore at me once more.

"Get that fucking tongue out you little shit," she shouted as she pushed her whole body weight down on me.

"Oufff, agh!" I groaned. as her flesh engulfed me.

I pushed it out as far as it could go and allowed her to position her arse over it. Great horrible groans of approval followed as she forced me to tongue her anus through her knickers. She lifted herself up very slightly and slid over me again, hovering above me to allow my tongue to follow the contours of her vagina. Backwards and forwards she moved as I kept my tongue as vertical as possible. I became aware that her clitoris was now so prominent that it was pushing through her gusset. Above me the cleaner groaned and moaned clearly enjoying the apparently delicious pleasure of having a young man's face between her old legs.

I flicked at her most sensitive part and she ceased her rubbing to the point where she held herself over me and allowed me to stimulate her with my probing and delving. She jerked and jerked again, this time holding my chin through the two layers of fabric. She jerked a third time then a fourth as I flicked the tip of my tongue around and over her clitoral area. My face was now sticky with her lubrication and I marvelled how a woman so old could produce so much fanny-juice. 

By now she was jerking over me furiously and from the inside of her rustling petticoat I heard her say "Oh, yes, oh, yess." 

Suddenly she gripped my head even harder and thrashed about wildly until my facial features felt sore with the constant abrasion from wet nylon. I closed my eyes again and struggled for breath as this heavyweight above me swore and cursed.

"Fucking lovely, bloody fucking bloody lovely," she snorted as she rubbed herself further and further towards her orgasm.

Then when I thought she was almost coming she began bouncing on my face as well as rubbing. Her language became almost incomprehensible as she galloped down the 'home straight' with my face squashed beneath her.

"Fuck," (bounce) "Fuck," (bounce) "Fuck," (bounce) "Fuck," (bounce) she continued, as she mashed my head into the bed. I felt as If my face was being slowly eroded down to bone as her huge damp stinking knicker gusset slid over my nose for the millionth time, or so it felt. 

Then from nowhere it happened. I felt it well up inside her as her body stiffened then quivered, then shivered. The flesh and clothing under her dress shook and shuddered. She savagely gripped my head and then I felt her whole body judder as she swore and came, filling her knickers with more cunt juice. I lay there under her, with her enormous buttocks pushing my face halfway into the mattress.

* 

She then decided that she had had enough of me outside her knickers and required my face to have direct contact with her cunt. This was the moment I had feared most.




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 24



"Ooooh, that were fucking lovely young man, now yer Aunty Doris needs a piss but she'll be right back," she said hauling her huge arse off me and stepping backwards.

I listened to the fat ugly sixty year old urinating and coughing in the bathroom at the end of the dormitory and then I heard the toilet flush. My mind was turning cartwheels as she shuffled towards me and I stared wide-eyed at her cheap cotton dress which barely covered her thick thighs and vast bottom. She waddled up to me and pulled her skirt up at the back and dragged down her stained nylon knickers and placed them on the bed next to her teeth.

"Now then young man let's see how good you are shall we?" she said as I, once again, pulled roughly at my bonds, desperate to escape.

She swung her heavy leg over me and sat squarely on my upper chest, with the front of her unbuttoned dress and grubby underskirt arranged over my face. I threw my head from side to side trying to buck her off but she was much too heavy. My puny frame was no match for this fat old cleaner.

"No struggling son or else your aunty'll get fucking cross," she said, "and you won't like what I'll do to yer bollocks," she continued, reaching behind her and gripping them tightly.

"Aah, oh, augh, yes. Alright, you win," I shouted as she let go and slid further up my chest.

Under her dress I looked up her massive thighs, obscenely encased by smooth brown nylon stockings. Between them the tight curls of her cunt seemed to beckon me. I looked at the dark cavern where I was soon about to stick my tongue and my penis became hard, rock hard.

Very slowly, by degrees, she slid her thighs past my cheeks and lifted her heavy flabby body onto my face. 

"Oh fuck, oh no, oh no, no, no fuck," I whispered to myself as her open vagina appeared in front of me. My penis strained at its tip and my balls were pulled against my body.

It was huge and had a large prominent clitoris and equally prominent flaps which hung down covered with mucous and slime. I watched as she placed it over my nose and began wiping it all over me. The smell was horrendous. I could tell she had recently pissed as all around me there was the odour of warm urine. My penis jerked wildly.

"Tongue out and stick it up me cunt," she grunted casually, now in charge and anxious to masturbate on my face once more.

I watched horrified as she reached down between her legs and stretched her labia apart and pushed herself firmly over my mouth and nostrils. I fought for breath and gave up and began stimulating her as best I could. Her cunt was so big that I wondered whether she could even feel my tongue delving inside her. I wondered how many penises had been up this squelching love-hole and, more to the point, how many 'young men' she had face-sat in her sixty odd years?

She squirmed on me, adjusting her position to provide maximum gratification, and then began jerking herself off violently. My head was pushed firmly into the mattress as she slid her dripping fanny over and over my upturned face, dragging my nose through the furrow of her fleshy flaps and over her clitoris. Above me, muffled by the two layers of her skirt and petticoat, I heard her curse with pleasure. My penis felt as if it were a foot long.

"Fucking lovely this is sonny, fucking lovely," she muttered grinding herself faster and more furiously over me. My whole body ached and my penis began turning itself inside out, it was so stiff.

I watched with morbid curiosity as her genitals oozed colourless fluid over me, making my face one thick messy slick of female lubrication. Her pubic hair dripped of cunt-juice and my face ran with her secretions and I smelled totally of hot sweaty vagina. I tried again to pull myself off the bed but the Japanese knots were much too tight so I just had to grit my teeth and close my eyes and put up with this incessant torture.

"Fucking, lovely jubbly," she gurgled as she slid over me more and more brutally.

Every vestige of dignity had been squeezed out of me by this quivering mass of female blubber bouncing about on top of me, and sliding her flaps over my nostrils. Her coarse pubic hair scratched my forehead as she literally cantered down the 'home straight' to her orgasm.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," she bellowed now bucking, sliding and bouncing on my face with almost bestial fury. 

This vicious, merciless and savage harridan kept sliding herself over my face in her slimy goo. I ceased to be human and now felt as if I was part of her, and that I didn't exist and was just a convenient shape against which she was violently masturbating.

"Lovely fucking jubbly," she roared, now completely out of control and jerking relentlessly over the contours of my face. 

Her petticoat was now ripped and I could see her gaping dress through it, thrashing and swishing so quickly that it was just a blur. The bed, and mattress creaked and banged as she bounced ever closer to her ultimate pleasure. 

"Oh my fuck, (creak, bang) Oh my fuck, (creak, bang) oh my fuck, (creak, bang)" she screamed through her toothless gums.

I was 'willing' her to finish off her orgasm. My head couldn't take any more of her face-fucking. I just wanted her to fucking finish as I spat out pussy-phlegm and pubic hair at each never ending bounce.

"Oh, (creak, bang) oh, (creak, bang) oh, (creak, bang) oh, oh, oh," (creak bang) screeched this fat 'Aunty Doris' with my tongue prodding her clitoris. On and on it went, for many, many minutes. I just wanted her to reach her orgasm and put me out of my misery.

Then it happened. She suddenly stopped and pulled my face deep into her cunt with her podgy fingers. 

I gasped for breath then I felt it well up inside her.

Her legs spasmed, then her thighs, then her belly, then her vagina and then the rest of her pulsated, then juddered, quivered, shivered, shook and shuddered as she bellowed out a gigantic "Oh fuuuuuuuuuck," and flooded my nostrils with fanny-juice.

It took her five long minutes to recover, and in the meantime I frantically tried to jerk her off me using my shoulders, neck and head. I felt as if I was drowning and she appeared not to notice. I probably felt like a 'little annoyance' tucked away between her legs under her dress.

"That were fucking ace young man, that were fucking lovely," she said in her 'rural Cockney' accent lifting up her dress and petticoat. 

My head still lay between her thighs framed by her laddered stocking tops and yellowed suspender fastenings and she looked down at my sticky smelly features. I saw that she almost smiled, but was glad that she didn't as her gums looked really awful. She sat up and slid over me dragging her hems across my face. I watched as she pulled up her knickers,put her teeth back in and went for a wee in one of the cubicles. 

I lay back and listened to the birdsong and recognised the high pitched singing of a wren and noticed my knob had drooled out globules of precum onto my stomach. 

I was desperate for another wank.

(Continued in part 25)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 25



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Miss Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old' one Friday. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it as I was caught with a pair of binoculars. 

I had decided not to get the local police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to 'Peeping Toms'. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and tethered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards at each corner of the room. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part twenty five of my sorry tale.)

*

I lay back and listened to the birdsong and recognised the high pitched singing of a wren and noticed my knob had drooled out globules of precum onto my stomach. 

I was desperate for another wank. Doris emerged from the bathroom and walked straight past my bed and left the room. She did not even ask me if I wanted to be untied. I was pretty desperate for a pee and would have given anything to escape my present predicament. Just when I thought I would have to piss in the bed the door opened and in walked Matron.

"Oh goodness," she exclaimed as she looked at me and my sodden hair, and the stained bed. "What have they done to you?"

As she untied me I explained to her what had happened and she appeared very concerned that I hadn't eaten since Monday night. She gave me a bar of chocolate which she kept for emergencies. I ate this quickly and looked at her.

"First we must get you washed and sprayed with some Eau de Cologne. You smell like a ladies lavatory, if you don't mind me saying so," she continued, ushering me into the shower cubicle and turning it on.

This was the best shower I had ever had. I emerged refreshed and ready for the rest of the day. Molly insisted on drying me with one of the soft white towels from the linen cupboard. She was very thorough and made a point of drying my penis and testicles with great precision. Needless to say I ended up with a stonking great erection.

"My my Tom, that's a nice big specimen isn't it," she said stroking it and handling my balls.

I stared at her not knowing what to do or say. I had grown to like Molly as she had been both kind and considerate, and had rescued me from Miss Wiff-Naseford's overenthusiastic punishment sessions more than once. She felt more like a mother to me. 

She stroked it further and it grew to massive proportions, or so it seemed.

"We can't have you walking around the school like that, it will frighten the girls, and we still don't know where your clothes are," she said in a matter of fact voice.

The midday sun streamed through the dormitory windows and I watched Molly kneel down in front of me and place her lips around the tip of my penis.

"Push it in," she said as I stared down in fascination. 

I looked into her eyes and saw that she had clearly done this before and knew what to do. I eased my full length slowly into her as she appeared to allow it into the back of her mouth. She did not heave or retch as I had expected, instead she moved her head back and forth growling with encouragement. The feelings inside me were amazing; her mouth was so warm and soft. I felt that this was the most exquisite experience I had ever had and watched her spellbound as she sucked me off like an expert fellatrix. I held her head in a firm but gentle grip and stared at her matron's uniform and at her knees encased in black stockings. 

She gurgled something and squeezed my balls, and I took this to mean that I should begin thrusting. I held her face at such an angle that my penis slid in and out of her throat and then began pumping. I moaned with pleasure as I became aware of a substantial amount of seminal fluid slowly begin to gather inside me. Her fingernails scratched by scrotum and my inner thighs. I gripped her head which now was jerking around in front of me. My penis was primed and ready to ejaculate and it was just a matter of time. Several minutes past and I felt that I was unable to take any more sucking and thigh scratching and I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes in an attempt to delay the inevitable.

"Yes," I shouted as I drained my balls into her mouth with twelve vigorous thrusts.

I fucked her face with solid hard thrusts and she remained kneeling looking up as my penis gradually lost its stiffness and shrank inside her mouth. She wouldn't allow me to pull it out until she had swallowed every last drop. Her eyes smiled at me as I felt her suck my now flaccid member. She was a gentle creature and clearly wished me to enjoy every second of her personal way of providing me with relief.

She stood up and I looked around surprised. We were surrounded by Class 3B who had returned from lunch. They must have sneaked in during my 'pleasure session' with Matron and were now eagerly waiting to see more.

"No more 'sucky-sucky'," she said to all the wide eyed faces staring up at us. 

I surveyed the little gaggle of small Japanese ladies. It was hard to tell that they were eighteen, nineteen and twenty years old. They looked so doll-like particularly in their little flared pleated tartan skirts, and their Mary-Jane buckled shoes. Only one of them was taller than four foot six inches and she was very thin and willowy. I found these fragile creatures fascinating and a complete contrast with the athletic six footers I had pleasured orally in the other classes.

"I have finished 'sucky-sucky' and it's very tasty," said Molly smiling with enthusiasm. She was clearly trying to get them interested in sucking me off. She quickly glanced at me and winked. "It is very tasty and does you good if you swallow it," she said and was met with nods of approval. 

"Oh yes 'sucky-sucky' very good for skin too," she continued with her sales pitch. I looked around at the nodding smiling faces, and in my naked state, noticed that the small girls in front were staring at my penis which stuck out horizontally in their direction.

It was hard to believe that I had had all their little vagina's and buttocks on my face less than a day earlier. I was becoming fond of these deliciously small oriental young women.

"I shall go now and leave you to enjoy Tom for the rest of the afternoon," said the Matron, her face fixed in a permanent smile. "I know that this afternoon you do not have lessons so I shall collect Tom at five o'clock, "she continued as she saw my penis rise up to an angle of forty five degrees. 

The thought of having my cock sucked by all these undersized women for four solid hours made me visibly shake with excitement: I could not believe my luck. I watched Molly walk to the door while I was led by several hands to a bed.

"We will take turns with 'sucky-sucky' said Hiroko Suzuki and Hoshi Kobayashi, the two little girls who were having their periods. I said to them that they could sit on my face if they wanted to but they must keep their knickers on.

I lay on the mattress sheet and watched all the little smiling girls surrounding the bed. They were playful and giggling, and stared transfixed at my aching erection. I stared at there small breasts which pushed out their grey sweaters: I looked at their flared pleats and petticoat lace visible under some of their uniforms. 

I smiled lecherously at their legs.

Hiroko stood on the bed and straddled my chest facing me. I pulled her up onto my face and breathed in her female odours through her pink lacy knickers. Once again my head was under a schoolgirls skirt and petticoat and I stared in wonderment at her tiny perfectly formed thighs and stockings. 

She said something in Japanese and Hoshi moved onto the bed between my outspread legs. I felt little fingers wrap themselves around my engorged tool and then begin to milk me with short pulls and pushes. I felt that I could have 'come' there and then but I exercised restraint as I was particularly keen to fill up Hoshi's small rosebud shaped mouth. Hoshi said something about it being an honour to have Mr.Tom's penis in her mouth and the next thing I knew she was licking it like a lollipop.

"Jyogakusei, chin-chin tabera, yes?" she said, which I think meant schoolgirl suck my penis?

I said "Hai dozo," which I think meant 'yes please' and my feeble attempt to speak in Japanese was met with a roar of approval and clapping. 

"Thanks very much, or should I say 'domo arigatos gozalimas'?" I continued, pleased that I knew two vital phrases which should get me through the afternoon.

I squirmed with exquisite pleasure as I felt Hoshi's lips gently teasing my bulbous knob-end. 

"Wow, this is fantastic," I muttered to myself as I slid my erection further into her mouth where her little tongue lapped at my exposed glans.

I felt her suck me in and begin the long process of stimulation which would hopefully end up with me ejaculating.

I lifted Hiroko's buttocks onto my face so that I could lick the flesh above her white stockings. I savoured the backs of her thighs and she purred with approval. With this little lady on my face and my erection in the other little lady's mouth I lay naked on the bed and revelled in all the sensations surrounding me.

Soon Hoshi was scratching my thighs and ball-sac and increasing both suction and tempo of her penis sucking. It was now only a matter of one or two minutes to 'detonation time', and I was primed. 

My licking of Hiroko's thighs made way to breathing in the aroma trapped inside her pink panties. My breath was coming out as gulps as I neared the point of no return. With Hiroko now straddling my face with my nose rammed against her gusset I reached down to where Hoshi's head was bobbing up and down, with my penis sliding up and down inside her mouth. From under Hiroko's pleated skirt I could even hear Hushi making slurping sounds and groaning as she drove me mercilessly towards my 'ultimate pleasure'. I held her cool hair and felt it cascade through my fingers as she jerked her head up and down. 

Now it was my turn to finish off what she had instigated. I grabbed the back of her head with my left hand and gripped my penis with my right and started wanking at the same speed as her sucking. We made a great pair.

I speeded things up to an almost violent pitch and, just as I was about to 'come', I held her head firmly between my hands.

Within a millisecond I jerked my pelvis off the bed, gritted my teeth, closed my eyes and exploded in her mouth. She screamed with shock but I hung onto her while I emptied myself into her between her small warm lips. 

This took seven large squirts to complete and I lay back under Miss Suzuki's pleats and pink petticoat and caught my breath. It took several minutes for my heart to return to normality as I slowly realised that this had been one of the best 'blow-jobs' of my life.

Hiroko knelt up and swung her leg off me and Hoshi slid up and sat on my face. Despite the fact she was having her period her knickers looked comparatively clean and I confirmed this by snuffling my nostrils around her genitals as I lifted her up and lowered her again onto my face. 

She giggled and told me that I was very rude and should not be looking up schoolgirl's skirts. I noticed as she spoke that little strands of my semen dribbled out of the corner of her mouth. She rearranged her white nylon petticoat over me and dropped her plaid pleats around me, plunging me into semi darkness yet again. I seemed to have had my head up so many skirts over the past five days that I had actually lost count.

I parted my legs, aware that Hiroko was waiting at the foot of the bed. I heard lots of giggles and cheers from the little girls as she knelt down and stroked my balls. It was as if she had flipped a switch as my penis began to crawl up my stomach towards its full extension.

I breathed in Hoshi's warm musky aroma from her knickers and felt myself stiffen further. 

"You are a very rude young man," she told me in her best English as I licked the inside of her thighs and fondled her suspender clips under her clothing.

"Ooooh," I moaned as I felt my heavy penis being lifted by tiny fingers. 

"Hiroko give naughty Peeping Tom 'sucky-sucky' now yes?"

"Hai dozo," I screeched, almost speechless with excitement.

I felt her small hand grip my shaft and then begin to wank me slowly but firmly. I couldn't tell whether she had ever done this before but it felt really exquisite. I continued licking the splayed thighs under Miss Kobayashi's school uniform and felt hot breath on the exposed tip of my now seemingly 'massive' erection. 

The other little Japanese schoolgirls giggled and cheered as Hiroko opened her mouth and slid me in. I entered her slowly and felt my penis twitch involuntarily as she licked the tip with her soft tongue. She held me in her mouth and began milking me with her hands. It had only been ten or so minutes since my last ejaculation so I was not quite ready to 'come' again so I just lay there and enjoyed her toying with me.

I lifted up Hoshi's skirt and slip and looked around. All the rest of the smiling women were watching Hiroko sucking and wanking me. They sat on adjacent beds and I noticed that one or two of them had their hands under their skirts or were rubbing their crotch. Clearly the sight of me being wanked must have aroused them. I looked at their doll-like complexions; they looked so perfect and found it almost unbelievable that these girls were all over eighteen.

Hiroko's hands were working wonders with my penis and balls. The other girls giggled, cheered and shouted "sucky-sucky, sucky-sucky," to her and to me. By now I was loosing control and knew that I would come at any moment. Her hand-wanking continued as she held my tip firmly in her mouth. I didn't know whether she was ready for me but I reached down and held her head firmly in place. I did not want her moving away at the last crucial second.

"Sucky-sucky, sucky-sucky, sucky-sucky," the girls chanted in their high pitched Japanese accents.

" Oh my, ooooh, aaagh," I groaned, gripped her head and emptied myself into her with five powerful spurts.

I held her and felt her splutter as she swallowed my 'deposit'. She coughed and struggled to sit up but I held her tighter until every drop of semen had left me. I let go and Hiroko immediately stood up. I lifted Hoshi's skirt again and watched Hiroko show her friends her mouth full of my sperm. They all cheered and clapped and pretended that she was some sort of hero. There was a lot of smiling and nodding and I could not fathom out what was happening. 

I found the Japanese race difficult to understand. 

Hoshi got off me and joined Hiroko with the rest of the 4'6" tall girls. I appeared to have been abandoned as the main point of interest and lay naked watching the final tiny drop of semen dribble out of my now flaccid penis. I was desperate for food but was more intrigued to find out what these girls had in store for me next. They appeared to have come up with an idea or hatched a plan, or whatever the term is in Japanese.

"You will stand up please," said Noriko Yoshida, the bubbly girl with her hair tied in bunches. 

I got off the bed and stood in front of them, my penis droopy and the size of a gherkin. The girls in front of me knelt down while those behind stood and watched. Two girls stood to my side and held my hands. I felt very self conscious in my naked state being surrounded by these undersized oriental schoolgirls. The two girls at my feet began stroking my calves and shins. I recognised them as Amaya Sasaki and Aika Oshiro. When I say 'recognised' I really meant that they introduced themselves as Amaya and Aika, the 'Sucky-sucky Sisters'. 

"Oh my, oh my," I muttered to myself as they began stroking the backs of my knees and thighs.

The two girls holding my hands thrust them both under their skirts and petticoats and down inside their knickers. They introduced themselves as the Haruka and Misaki the 'Pussy Delight Twins'. My fingers felt their warm coarse damp curls and stimulated them sufficiently to allow my middle fingers to enter them. They both giggled and held me around the waist. 

Meanwhile the 'Sucky-sucky Sisters' were tickling the underside of my heavy scrotum and scratching my inner thighs with their long finger nails. They certainly knew what they were doing and I couldn't work out whether they had done this before or whether they were following their instincts.

The 'Pussy Delight Twins' were becoming increasingly damp inside their knickers and I wondered whether they expected me to 'bring them off' or what? I decided that I could only take one of them to her orgasm as I was, and still am, right-handed. I eventually decided that I would stimulate neither of them as that day I was going to ejaculate as much as physically possible to make up for the long days of sexual frustration I had suffered at the hands of the mad harridan of a headmistress, Miss Wiff-Naseford.

The bollock manipulation had produced the desired effect and I felt my scrotal sac tighten as my penis began to rise. The girls at the back cheered and I looked down at the 'Sisters' as one, then the other, licked my testicles. I stared into their beautiful big brown eyes and was transfixed by their features. I found it hard to believe that these lovely doll like girls had my sweaty hairy heavy balls resting on their mouths. Just looking at them made me feel rampant. 

I watched their tongues delve into every fleshy crevice and skin fold of my testicles and my penis twitched wildly into the horizontal position. I was mesmerized by their faces and delighted at the contrast between their flawless complexions and my obscenely stiff veined appendage which bobbed aimless above them. One of them allowed my erection to rest along her nose and forehead and become entangled in her cool hair. I groaned with lust as the other girl sucked a testicle into her small warm mouth.

Meanwhile the 'Twins' began jerking themselves against my fingers. I had two fingers inside them at this stage and could have easily slipped in a third. Both 'Twins' were holding my wrists so that I could not pull out. Their faces were twisted into a rictus of imminent pleasure. 

To an outsider they looked as if they were crying with pain and had begun the usual 'Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh,' high pitched groans which I had heard when I had pleasured them orally. I let them use my fingers to slide against each of their clitoral hoods until they both yelped with delight when their buds became exposed. Clearly the 'Twins' were both experiencing 'pussy-delight' and I just provided them with the means.

Meanwhile between my legs the 'Sucky-sucky Sisters' were living up to their name. Both were sucking my testicles, and my penis now stuck up at forty five degrees between them.

The other girls had there hands inside their knickers and two of them had their hands inside each other's knickers. I noticed three of them had their knickers around their ankles or just below their petticoat hems. It looked as if the whole room, except for the 'Sisters', were trying to achieve an orgasm at the same time. All around me and in front of me I could hear their little 'eh, eh, eh' high pitched grunts as the young women stimulated themselves or each other.

The room smelled of sex, undiluted 100% sex.

I looked down into the 'Sisters'' eyes and focussed on their mouths which both held a hairy bollock. Another girl. Katsumi Sato joined them and began licking the underside of my erection. She held my tip and opened her mouth and sucked it in and looked up into my face. I recognised the eyes. She had those 'puppy dog eyes', just like mine when I crave pity or attention. 




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 25



"Oh my, oh my," I spluttered as she passed my penis to Amaya on her left. 

Into her mouth went my penis and it twitched as I felt her tongue run along the underside of my erection. After several minutes of excruciatingly pleasurable sucking she handed it back to Katsumi who eagerly sucked me for a further two or three minutes. I stared down into her eyes and at the enormous fleshy part of me inside her small rosebud mouth. I watched her cheeks move as she slid it from one side of her mouth to the other, pushing my swollen knob-end into the inside of her cheeks. Her eyes smiled at me and she gurgled with apparent pleasure.

Meanwhile the 'Twins' were jerking and thrusting themselves on the ends of my fingers. One looked as if she was in real pain and was shrieking 'Eh, eh, eh, eh,' as she clearly passed the point of no return. I watched them amazed. I looked at their small bodies twisting and writhing around. I looked at the other girls and most seemed to be in a similar disposition. All about me I heard little squeals and squeaks which appeared to approach fever pitch in intensity.

My eyes were drawn to the eyes of the three 'Sucky-sucky Sisters, who were passing my penis backwards and forwards, into mouths and out of mouths, using their tongues and sharp fingernails to urge me further. I was becoming delirious and felt that this was far too much for one man to withstand.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming," I blurted just as the 'Twins' came to each side of me.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," I croaked, now unable to cope with all their incessant sucking.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, Ooooah yesss," I shouted as I spurted five long strands of semen all over their hair and faces.

"Yes oh yes," I said looking down at them and the rest of the girls as if I were standing in triumph. I felt like a Greek God, an Adonis amongst mortals, and this was something I had never felt before. For the first time in my life I felt like an 'Alpha Male', the head of the herd and this was truly the rutting season.

Amaya, Aika and Katsumi gave way to three new 'Sisters', Mariko Oto, Susumo Ono and Yuriko Arakaki. They knelt in front of me and immediately began fondling my balls. I was once again beguiled by their smiling eyes. My penis was still flaccid but all three wished to suck it and I said in my perfect Japanese," Hai dozo."

"We are the 'Sucky-sucky Sisters'," they said in unison and began to pass my penis backwards and forward as if it were part of some exotic meal. 

I looked at the other girls who were still masturbating. Some had 'come' and were lying on beds recovering with their legs apart and their stockings on show. The two who were stimulating each other were still hard at it and their hands shook under their partner's skirts and petticoats. 

Beside me a new pair of 'Pussy-Delight Twins' introduced themselves as Shika Sato, the sister of Katsumi Sato, and Yuka Takahashi, whom I knew to be twenty years of age. I stared down at them as they stood at my side. They both got hold of my still sticky hands and thrust them down the front of their knickers. I could tell that they had been masturbating as their gussets felt sweaty and sodden. My fingers had no problems in entering their 'pubic portals' and into their cunts. Immediately they closed their eyes and began rubbing themselves using each set of fingers as a dildo. I let them get on with it as I concentrated on being sucked off for the second time. 

It took another twenty minutes of constant incessant intensive physical 'torture' of my penis to produce another ejaculation. 

My penis had been sucked, licked, double licked on either side at the same time, wrapped in hair, slid over faces, pushed into the inside of cheeks, scratched and clawed with finger nails, massaged, fondled, stroked and scraped. It was now like a time-bomb ready to explode.

I gritted my teeth, shut my eyes and squirted out five vast globules of semen all over the three upturned faces in front of me. It hung from them in strings and dribbled slowly down their features, across their noses, cheeks, mouths and eyes. They looked amazing and I felt amazing too. The 'Twins' on my finger tips came one after the other and I felt good, really good.

A fresh set of 'Sisters' and 'Twins' appeared from the girls who stood around and watched. Noriko Yoshida, Misaki Tanaka and Kimiko Hara volunteered to suck me off. Shika Arai and Naoko Endo pushed my hands up their skirts and petticoats and down the front waistbands of their knickers. My fingers instinctively prized open their labia and began massaging their slimy sticky openings first with one and then with two fingers. Within a minute they were both squirming rhythmically producing the now familiar 'eh, eh, eh' sounds.

The 'Sisters' between my legs began masturbating me with everything they had got. I looked down at their perfect eyes and perfect hair and perfect faces and my penis began to stiffen fiercely until it towered over them and bobbed about in front of them. Immediately I felt them lick its length slowly and teasingly at first then more fervently. I couldn't help but look at their upturned faces and beautiful Japanese eyes and at the monstrous engorged part of me which was passed from one small mouth to the other. Once again I was captivated and enraptured by the scene.

Here I was, a puny thin boy aged twenty, standing naked in a schoolgirls' dormitory. It must have been about 3 o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon and I was surrounded by twenty undersized Japanese Finishing School girls aged between eighteen and twenty. All the girls were 4'6" tall or thereabouts and wore school uniforms including white blouse, grey sweater, and knee length blue tartan pleated skirts. All wore white stockings, suspender belts, petticoats and Mary-Jane buckled shoes. They all resembled giant dolls and had perfect hair teeth and faces. They all without exception had gorgeously big brown sparkling eyes and smiled continuously.

To each side of me stood two of these little beauties and I had my hands up their skirts and inside their knickers. In front of me three girls were kneeling and were spending three minutes each sucking my erection and then passing it on to the next girl.

If this wasn't a scenario to get any red blooded male to ejaculate then nothing would, and I did.

"Yes, yes I'm coming, coming," I croaked too excited and shagged out to speak as I emptied my load for the third time over three young upturned faces. It went everywhere, ears, blouse fronts, skirts and hair. Semen looped from face to face in thin strings which eventually broke as the viscous slime slid down their faces and into their mouths.

"Very tasty sucky-sucky," said Noriko flicking her bunched hair from side to side and licking her lips.

"Thank you for sucky-sucky," said Misaki and Kimiko in unison, feeling obliged to make some remark about the sticky goo which hung off their hair and clothes. I tried to reply in Japanese but, in my current state, had forgotten the words.

The final three girls decided that two of them would suck me off and that I could masturbate the other with both my hands. Miss Chiyo Tanaka stood behind me and I pushed my hands inside her knickers and opened up her cunt with the central finger of my right hand. I felt her twitch, gasp and take a short intake of breath as I slipped inside her. She was already well lubricated.

The other two knelt in front of me and introduced themselves as Ayaka Nakamura and Manami Yoshida the 'Sucky-sucky Sisters. I nodded to them and they nodded back as they began fondling my genitals. To be honest I was in no hurry to 'come' since Doris the cleaner had left I had had more than my share of orgasms and wondered how I could find the strength to muster up another. I noticed that the girls were clearly intent on making me 'come' again. I felt obliged not to disappoint them so I just hoped that I wouldn't let them down. My balls felt bone-dry and I was concerned that I may not be able to perform. I was also intrigued to think how differently they were treating me today as opposed to the way I was treated as a toilet slave during the night.

"Last night I was a slave, today I am the master", I thought to myself and smiled bemusedly.

My penis had risen to a near horizontal position as their little mouths and tiny fingers nursed me back to full vigour. Over and over again my erection was handed from one mouth to the other. This went on for more than half an hour. I admired their patience and fortitude. Behind me Chiyo shook and juddered her 'Eh, eh, eh, eh, eeeeeh,' sounds as she reached her orgasm. She hugged my back when she had finished and kissed my sticky fingers in gratitude. I just continued looking down into the eyes of these determined beauties in front of me. 

They had clearly resigned themselves that my fourth orgasm was going to be a long affair and then out of the blue I felt it suddenly well up inside me and jerk out onto Manami's face.

It wasn't a spurt but was more like a thick dribble. I watched her close her eyes. She had my semen in both eye sockets and she smiled with glee. Ayaka licked her cheeks where it had spilled. Manami wiped it down to her mouth where she eagerly lapped it up. For a fourth orgasm in three hours it wasn't such a bad volume of 'cum' and I felt quite proud of my performance. I had disregarded the two orgasms I had produced with Hiroko and Hoshi sitting on my face. They were appertisers.

I lay back on the bed and realised that I was famished, shagged-out and my legs ached through constant standing. The girls huddled around me and Aika Oshiro, Mariko Ito and Yuka Takahashi announced that they were going to wash me. I understood that this would be their way of honouring a guest. I agreed but didn't quite know what was in store. 

The other girls sat on the beds and watched my 'washers' undress. Soon they were down to just white bras and panties. They looked so sweet. They took these off and stood naked in front of me. I was them led to the bathroom by these three small beauties and led into the shower cubicle. It had no door and was big enough only for two, or three at a pinch. Four of us got in while Noriko Yoshida, the girl with her hair in bunches, switched the shower on. 

Fortunately the water quickly heated up and I rejoiced in its effects on my strained limbs and torso. 

The three little girls set to work soaping me and lathering me. Their little hands went everywhere and I was clearly excited at the attention my penis was getting. All around me little stiff pert nipples slid over and against me, buttocks and wet hair brushed against me. As I leant forward in the hot stream to have my hair washed another girl washed my anus most thoroughly and enjoyably. I could have stayed in that shower for the rest of the day with these three, or any of them for that matter as I felt so relaxed and fulfilled. I watched their faces in the hot mist. None of their heads reached my shoulders and I wished I could have lived in their dormitory for the rest of my days.

After my shower they dried me carefully and found a dressing gown for me to wear. It was several sizes too small and it did not hide my stonking erection which now bobbed about obscenely from between the loosely tied fronts.

I stayed with them until five o'clock, when, on the dot, Matron arrived with my clothes.

She winked at me and asked me how the "sucky-suck" went. 

I just told her to shut up.

(Continued in part 26)



David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 26



(It was late autumn of 1960 and I, David Shaw, was 20 years old and was following my hobby of bird watching. I had unfortunately been detained by Miss Amelia Wiff-Naseford, headmistress, for being an alleged 'Peeping Tom' in the grounds of 'Dentwood Finishing School for Tall Girls aged 18 to 20 years old' one Friday. There were 120 girls registered at the school. Clearly I was not a so called 'pervert' but I could not prove it as I was caught with a pair of binoculars. 

I had decided not to get the local police involved by agreeing to submit myself to the traditional 'Punishment Rules of the School' as applied to 'Peeping Toms'. This involved being stripped naked and spread-eagled on the headmistress' study carpet, and tethered with ropes and leather straps to metal rings set in floorboards at each corner of the room. I was then required to orally pleasure the 'whole' school. This is part twenty six of my sorry tale.)

*

After my shower the Japanese girls dried me carefully and found a dressing gown for me to wear. It was several sizes too small and it did not hide my stonking erection which now bobbed about obscenely from between the loosely tied fronts.

I stayed with them until five o'clock, when, on the dot, Matron arrived with my clothes.

She winked at me and asked me how the "sucky-suck" went. 

I just told her to shut up and pass me my clothes. I got dressed there and then and noticed that they had been washed and ironed. I felt human again and smiled at the twenty or so diminutive young women and bowed to them on my way to the door.

"Gokouun o inorimasu," said one girl. 

"Oyasuminasai," said another.

I bowed and said thank you, but I had no idea what they were saying.

"Dewa mata," said Matron unexpectedly as we left the room.

"They said 'good luck' and 'good night'," she said "And I said 'see you'," she continued as I stared at her amazed. Molly was the last person I expected to know Japanese but she had picked it up when she had been taken as a prisoner of war in the Far East during the War. She had served as a medical orderly in Singapore.

I punched her in the buttocks and sped off to see Miss Wiff-Naseford. I don't know why but I was feeling quite happy and upbeat. I thought that the punishment would soon be over as I had only the staff to orally pleasure. I knocked on the headmistress' door and heard the familiar voice from the other side.

"Come in Tom, we're expecting you," 

As I turned the door handle and looked in and I couldn't believe my eyes. All the staff was there and they appeared to be just about to start a cocktail party. There was a cold buffet set out on Miss Wiff-Naseford's desk which had been pushed against a wall. I noticed canapés, French cheeses, pickles, cold Italian meats and various mixed salads. 

There were wine, sherry and whisky bottles on a smaller table, and various sized glasses. 

The ladies were wearing evening attire. Some of them looked very glamorous and fetching in their short black dresses, stiff net petticoats and black stilettos. There was a smell of expensive perfume hanging in the air.

"Have a drink dear boy, have a drink," said Miss Wiff-Naseford as I noticed her voluptuous figure encased in purple tulle and taffeta. 

I helped myself to a large whisky and surveyed the crowd. There must have been ten teachers in the room; I must admit I was expecting more, but the headmistress explained that the married teachers lived off campus and usually left at five o'clock promptly. I recognised Angela Richardson the geography teacher, Muriel Browne, the classics mistress, Martine Hamilton, the French teacher and one or two others from the high table.

"Tom, we're not having our evening meal in the refectory so do please help yourself to food; there's quite a nice cold pasta salad with ham which I can recommend," said the head mistress clearly enjoying being the congenial host. 

I helped myself to some food and joined a small group of teachers who appeared to be talking about the autumn term and how their girls were progressing with their deportment exams and etiquette. I tried to join in but found that I had little to add to the conversation so just stood there and ate, nodding at anything that any of them said. 

I poured myself another whisky and then joined another group surrounding Lesley Hopkins, the games mistress who was talking about health and how important it was for the modern girl to keep herself fit for all that life had to throw at her. When she started on about childbirth I withdrew, had another whisky and joined Miss Wiff-Naseford and Molly.

"Ah Tom," the overdressed harridan began, "Only this lot to pleasure and the catering staff and that's it. I hear you have already pleasured the three cleaners. I hope they didn't frighten you; they are all ex-convicts from Hollowmoor Scrubs and have served time for molesting young men," she continued watching the horrified look on my face.

"Yes I think you were lucky to escape with your life; they only work here because of our 'female-only' strictures," she said.

"Anyway Tom we will have to get you ready for the ladies won't we?" exclaimed Miss Wiff-Naseford, clearly intent on getting the show on the road.

"Gather round ladies," said the headmistress clapping her hands. I noticed her pick up a cushion and drop it on the floor.

"As you know Mr. Peeping Tom here has been in the school for the past five days pleasuring our girls. I have on the whole thought that it introduced most of them to the ...err...'pleasures of the orgasm'. Doubtless you have heard good reports; I know I have," she continued "It is now Tom's final evening and I have laid on this little soiree in order to thank him for what he has done and to acknowledge his..err...unusual services to the school," she carried on as if it was a prize giving ceremony.

Her speech went on for several minutes and I stared at the cushion at her feet. It felt unusual to be fully dressed in her room and wondered if there was something she was not telling me.

"...and finally Tom here has agreed to pleasure you as and when you feel the urge. He'll kneel on this cushion, won't you Tom, and service you under your lovely skirts, party frocks and dresses; I'll leave it up to you whether you keep your...undergarments on or not," she explained as she looked at me and pointed to the cushion.

Reluctantly I knelt down and stared around me and at the legs and high heeled shoes of the middle aged teachers who stood next to me. For the first time I felt extremely self conscious and unsure what to do, I sat back on my heels so that my head was roughly at their waist level and waited. The conversations resumed and they split up into little groups. Helping themselves to food and drink.

A tall blonde woman in her early forties walked up to me. I stared at the hem of her wide black skirt. It was knee length and was obviously supported underneath by stiff net petticoats. She wore a white blouse with a pearl necklace. She smelled of expensive perfume and wore black patent leather four-inch stiletto court shoes. 

"I'm Rosemary Bentley, the etiquette specialist," she said looking me over. I wondered whether she was expecting me to stand up and shake her hands. I smiled up inanely and wondered what she would do next. We both felt awkward as we realised that there were no formal conversational guidelines regarding performing cunnilingus at cocktail parties. 

She stood in front of me and edged forward. I stared at her smooth black stockings and watched her raise her skirt. She handed her drink and plate to Muriel Browne who stood in her green bouffant dress to one side. She shuffled closer to me and I became aware of her body heat which emanated from beneath her hem. She was clearly excited.

An erection began to well up inside my underpants as I lowered my head. I watched her part her feet and shuffle forward while she lifted her gathered skirt and white petticoats and ushered me under. Immediately the heat and odour from her thighs and crotch bowled me over. I felt her shake then drop her clothing over me so that I was enveloped inside three layers of petticoat and one layer of lined skirt.

I let my eyes wander over her knickers which were just an inch from my face. They were white French knickers edged in a wide band of ruffled lace. They looked so feminine and expensive. Beneath her knickers her suspender belt and straps were trimmed with similar lace. 

Her whole ensemble looked stunning. Before I could decide what to do I felt her pull my head into her. Her hands felt soft through all the layers of nylon net. I decided that this woman needed serious stimulation so began nuzzling her pubic hair through the loose folds of her knickers.

"Pass me that bottle Muriel please," I heard her say, muffled by the crisp crackling layers surrounding me. 

She let go of my head and poured Muriel, and then herself, another glass of wine. I became aware of her striking up a conversation with other teachers close by. Soon around me, and above me, the debate ebbed and flowed as I began probing Miss Bentley with my tongue.

I allowed my hands to wander up inside her knicker legs and gently eased them to one side. She flinched as I ran my tongue up and down her slit. She smelled moist and ready for further deep delving and cunt exploration. She flinched again as I slid my slippery tongue under her clitoral hood and flicked at the now prominent bud.

"Well how does one engender personal responsibility in young women..." she said as I caught snippets of the conversation above me. "...a sense of pride and goal setting....and don't you agree Muriel?" the disjointed words flowed over me as I licked enthusiastically at her labia and vaginal opening. 

Her secretions also flowed over me and my nostrils snorted in the powerful muskiness from between her legs.

"I see young Tom is busy under your pretty skirt Rosemary," said the head teacher pleased that someone was making use of my services.

"Yes thank you headmistress," she hissed trying to control herself and preventing herself from shouting the house down.

"Hold onto my drink again Muriel," said the Etiquette teacher now on the brink of 'coming'. 

"Don't bloody stop Tom, d'ya hear," said a disembodied voice somewhere above the many layers of stiff nylon net. 

I gripped her buttocks and tilted back my head. Her muff was resting on my face and my tongue entered and re-entered her portals over and over again. I wiggled my tongue inside her and felt her body respond. She gyrated her hips and grabbed my head and began thrusting herself over me. I concentrated all my efforts on her clitoris which was now fully revealed and dancing on the end of my tongue tip.

"Yes," she grunted, "Yes," she grunted again as I continued stimulating her beyond the point of no return. 

She bent her knees and parted her legs further. I pushed my tongue firmly inside her and felt her spasm, first gently then violently, then degenerate into a full blown orgasm. All around me her petticoats shook and crackled.

"Shit, shit, shit, fucking yes, fucking yes, fuck....yes...yes," she screamed quite clearly out of control. Her language was unbecoming to one who taught etiquette to young ladies.

"Fuck, shit, fucking hell that was fucking incredible," I heard her say to Muriel who was just within earshot.

She stepped backwards, pulling her clothing off me and I looked around and saw that all eyes were on me and on my wet face and sticky hair.

"So that felt good dear?" said Miss Wiff-Naseford to Miss Bentley clearly pleased that I had done my stuff.

"That was absolutely wonderful headmistress," she said regaining her composure but still looking red faced. 

She shook down her skirt and rearranged her petticoats so that her bouffant outfit appeared not quite as dishevelled as it had been with my head underneath it. The other members of staff gathered round Miss Bentley and smiled and patted her on the back.

Someone put a record on the gramophone and the party really got going. From my kneeling position in the middle of the head teachers study I watched these teachers helping themselves to the table buffet and pouring more drinks. The atmosphere became more and more congenial and the hubbub of conversation grew in intensity. A very frisky pair walked up to me. Both looked a little drunk. They introduced themselves as Annette Sanderson, the biology mistress and Hazel Mears, the mathematics teacher. 

"After you Hazel," said Annette holding onto the top of my head for support. I looked into her youngish face. She was in her thirties and had long wavy hair pulled back into a pony tail. Annette wore a deep pink floral ankle length party dress gathered at the waist. The hem was very wide and flouncy. It stuck out quite a distance from her legs so I guessed that she too was wearing stiff nylon net underskirts.

"No after you Annette," Hazel said pushing her colleague further towards me.

" Only if you are sure," said Annette," I must admit that I have been looking forward to this," she said to her friend. 

Neither of them spoke to me and once again I realised that these women regarded me as a sexual aid and not as a person. Annette kicked me on the knee with her three-inch heels and I sat back on my haunches and stuck my head forward. I watched her shoes part as she walked up and stood astride my knees. She handed her glass to Hazel and pulled up her skirt. I watched spellbound as first her shins, then her knees and then her thighs were exposed. Her stockings were very fine denier and dark grey in colour. Her knickers were loose legged and pink with frilly panels of Calais lace. Her suspender straps were similarly decorated. I could also tell by the stain around her crotch that she was already aroused as well as being slightly drunk. I licked my lips and got ready.

She edged forward and threw her dress over me. Hazel helped by pulling it down and rearranging her net petticoats so that I was completely covered from my chest upwards. Needless to say I had another erection inside my trousers and began to wish that I was naked and able to jerk myself off. I pulled her knickers leg upwards and to one side and immediately slurped my way into the soft flesh between her labia. I nuzzled at her clitoris and felt her flinch then settle down. For ten minutes I slurped lapped and licked. I had pushed a middle finger inside her anus and twiddled it about, slowly gauging her reactions by her involuntary movements. She appeared to revel in my tongue-fucking and secreted a copious amount of fanny juice which I was obliged to swallow. I heard her talking to Hazel in a way which didn't convey any impression of her currently stimulated state.

"...and I prefer the designs of Ernest Gimson to those of William Morris, and it so goes with the architecture of Voysey..." she continued clearly trying to keep the conversation on the English Arts and Crafts Movement going while I slobbered around inside her under her pink evening dress and white net petticoats. 

By now her twitching was accompanied my little gasps. I could tell that I didn't have to push her much further.

"Hold my glass and plate please Hazel," I heard Annette say in a very matter of fact way. 

Under her dress my head was bobbing up and down frantically tonguing her fanny and probing her anus. Her hands held my cheeks as she pushed my head back and edged further forward. We were now galloping along the home straight and felt her bend her knees and stiffen suddenly. Her buttock muscles gripped my finger up her arse while I continued sliding my tongue up and down, and around her clitoris.

"No stop, don't stop, yes, no, please," she squealed incoherently. "Yes, oh yes," she yelped as she bent her knees further and pushed my face firmly into her fanny.

"Oh no, oh no, oh yes, oh yessss," she moaned as she shuddered in my face squirting out vaginal spendings all over my face and shirt front. She was so sticky and slimy and smelled of warm vagina and sweat. "Oh my goodness," she said to Hazel almost in tears.

She lifted her dress and I knelt back on my heels and wiped the colourless slime off me with the back of my hands. My teeth had trapped pubic hair between them. I must have made a pathetic sight. I noticed that the women weren't paying me much attention and that the party was going full swing. The music was upbeat and I noticed Miss Wiff-Naseford's hips jiggling as she snapped her fingers in time with the rhythm. She appeared to be rather drunk and waved to me insanely.

"Are you OK Tom?" she yelled above the music and conversation. I told her I was fine just as Hazel Mears held onto my shoulders and shuffled up to me.

I stared up into her big brown eyes and admired her thick black hair which was swept up into a bun. She looked very regal and haughty. I stared down at her black sling-back sandals as she pulled me towards her and her raised skirt. She wore a red silk tiered skirt which ended just below her knees. It looked like a gypsy or Spanish skirt. I saw that she also wore a white flounced petticoat with a deep lace trim. My heart skipped a beat when I saw her fishnet stockings.

"Oh my, oh my," I simpered as I watched her haul her clothes up to her waist and rub up against me. 

Her white French knickers looked so crisp and neat that she looked almost virginal. I had not really noticed Miss Mears before except at the high table and I had to admit that her legs were incredible. Her thighs above her stockings were so curvaceous. She had one of those pairs of legs which curve in and out and leave a gap at the top of her thighs just below the cunt. I reached up and pulled her towards me just as she shook down her underskirt and red party outfit over me, hiding me once more from view.  

Through the two layers surrounding me I heard muffled laughter as Miss Wiff-Naseford appeared to be telling a joke. I could also make out Annette talking to Hazel and laughing at something, and it wasn't their head teachers joke. I looked down and noticed that the zip fastener of my trouser flies had slid open and that my penis was pushing my white underpants out.

"Well the little pervert is trying to flash at us," said Annette aiming a kick at my balls and missing by a mile.

"Don't do that Annette," said Hazel perturbed. "Let him do what he likes," she continued clearly trying to humour me.

Meanwhile my tongue was lapping at her clitoris and sliding up and down her labia tasting the softness of her inner flesh and sucking at her inner lips. She parted her legs further and I pushed myself further up her breathing in her strong natural aroma. I basically just couldn't get enough of this woman. She looked, smelled and tasted exquisite and the nightmare of Doris, the cleaner, seemed a long time ago. I was again enjoying doing what I was good at and slurped and slobbered my tongue all over her genitalia, making her jerk and flinch and gasp.

Hazel's anus didn't yield to my fingers; she was one of those women who did not warm to having a digit up her back passage so I didn't pursue it further. I did try with my little finger but she pushed me away. Her bent splayed legs and pelvic thrusts told me that she liked having my tongue between her legs and she chortled incoherently as I licked and sucked her more savagely.

Within a few minutes she was gasping breathlessly and completely out of control. I doubted that her pupils had ever heard their mathematics teacher swear so vehemently, nor gush out sexual secretions so wildly. The room fell silent as I finished her off with a stream of multiple clit-flicks. She spasmed then orgasmed gripping my tongue with small muscular ripples which pulsated up and down her vulva. 

When it was over she lifted up her gypsy skirt and I backed away noticing that the waistband of my trousers had come loose. I stood up and stretched and tried to do up my clothes but hands suddenly appeared around me and pulled my trousers down to my ankles. 




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 26



"Off, off, off, off," the women chanted clearly having drunk far too much.

"Off, off, off," sang Miss Wiff-Naseford shuffling around, snapping her fingers like a wild-eyed revitalised zombie. They were clearly like a pack of wolves.

There was a smell of the hunt in the air and I was the quarry. They closed in on me and unbuttoned my shirt and dragged it off. Then down came my underpants from which my huge penis sprung out horizontally like an uncoiled spring. Off came my shoes and socks and I was left naked in the centre of the room. The music appeared out of place as it was a boisterous Rock and Roll number and the last thing I wanted to do was dance and jive. 

Someone tripped me up and I fell on my back. I was pinned down by my legs, feet and hands. From nowhere the ropes and leather straps were dragged out from the four corners of the room and I was again fettered by my wrists and ankles. The party had taken a turn for the worse. All around me and above me I watched the women leering and laughing at my predicament. I could hardly focus because of my treble whiskies.

Others were lurching around with bottles and plates. I watched nervously as high heels came dangerously close to my face and private parts. I was treated to many upskirt views of frilly white knickers and petticoats, as well as stockings and suspenders. Miss Wiff-Naseford appeared to be dancing the Tango with herself with a gin bottle in her hand.

I glanced up to see Angela Richardson waving a pair of knickers at me. She had obviously just taken them off. The geography teacher steadied herself with the help of Lesley Hopkins and stood astride my shoulders staring with a glazed expression into my face. I looked at her legs. She was wearing dark blue stockings under a wide flared royal blue taffeta dress which was clearly buoyed out by stiff net petticoats. 

My penis unrolled itself and extended up my stomach towards my navel, with my glans now fully exposed. I salivated as she placed one cruel looking high heeled shoe next to my cheek, and then she swung the other over to my other cheek. The loud music and incessant conversation drowned my thoughts but all I could think of was that her pussy was amazingly hairy as I looked up her dress. She shook her hips at me and laughed.

"How are you Mr.Peeping Tom? Are you getting an eyeful?" she blurted almost spilling the drink she held in her hand.

I noticed that she had been eating as there were crumbs around her mouth. Lesley Hopkins, wearing a bright patterned skirt put one of her shoes on my stomach and rubbed her sole against my smooth skin. I stared up powerless to do anything except stare up the clothes of these tall drunken women. I was at their complete mercy.

"Can you see my fanny, pervert?" asked Miss Richardson clearly on a roll. I nodded and smiled as if seeking approval. She screeched at me "You're just a bloody little pervert, you pervert."

I looked askance, thinking that if she was going to stand over me, with her legs apart wearing a skirt and no underwear then I was bound to be able to see her vagina. What planet was she from?

"You're just a little pervert, what are you?" she said as she stabbed me in the shoulder with her stiletto heel.

"Ouch that hurt and wasn't necessary," I said staring at the tops of her stockings amongst the billowing layers of petticoat only a foot above my face. She twisted her heels inwards so that my head was pinched between her shoes.

"You're a pervert aren't you? Say it! "she screamed at me above the music.

"Hello Tom, are you enjoying the party?" said a voice behind me and I pulled on my straps as I recognised Celia the nymphomaniac school secretary. 

She was wearing her 'seductress's dress' which I had unzipped in her flat with, I assume, her basque. She gave me a playful kick on my head as she towered above me staring at Miss Richardson.

I hoped that Celia's presence would put off the sadistic Miss Richardson but she twisted her shoes in further until I couldn't lift my head. "What are you?" she demanded curtly.

I said, "A fanny-sniffing pervert staring up at a freak show's snatch,"

"What? you fucking cheeky sod," she said squatting down and sitting open legged on my chest with her skirt and petticoats pulled behind her. 

I looked down my nose at her glistening labia just a few inches from my face. I looked into her eyes and saw sheer contempt in her face. Her stockings appeared very dark against her thighs. Celia, behind me, took a swig of brandy and pushed Miss Richardson off me. She fell backwards spreading her legs across my face. 

Instantly Celia was on her sprawling all over her and me. All around me I heard squeals, screams and cursing. Legs and shoes threshed around wildly above me. Heels dug into my face, shoulders and neck. I moved my head violently from side to side trying to avoid them as the women fought over me and above me. 

Celia's arse landed in my face, followed by Angela Richardson's knee. I jerked my head to one side and dodged a well aimed kick from Lesley Hopkins which struck Celia in the ribs. I thought that I was in serious trouble lying flat on my back naked with my private parts on show amongst the scuffling and drunken cat fight above me. 

Then, out of the blue, I heard a gunshot. 

The room froze and I saw Miss Wiff-Naseford wave a starting pistol in the air.

"I'll not have my staff fighting in my study. Where the bloody hell do you think you are? A western saloon?" she said staring at everyone with a hawk like expression.

"I can explain," said Celia looking flushed with alcohol.

"I don't want any excuses or explanations; all I want you to do is pleasure yourselves on the Tom so that we can complete his punishment. Is that too much to ask or do I have to treat you all like schoolgirls?" she muttered, clearly eager for me to finish off Angela Richardson who remained sprawled over me with her legs apart and her stockings on show.

The teachers appeared to suddenly sober up and I watched them gather around to watch Angela and I 'at it'. Much to Celia's annoyance Angela squatted on my face with her dress and petticoats billowing all around me.

Underneath her nylon net underskirt everything appeared pale blue and I was completely hidden from my waist upwards. She held the top of my head through her clothes and began bouncing on my face. The narrow 1889 pillow was nowhere to be seen and found it quite painful to have my head resting on the carpet. Her bouncing degenerated into fierce jerking as she wiped her clitoris over my forehead, nose and tongue. Clearly the contours of my face were perfect for aiding her masturbation. My face became very sticky and slimy with her sexual secretions which flowed freely from between her legs. 

"That's it Angela give it bit more oomph," interjected the by now sprightly headmistress. I thought that the gunshot had cleared the air and provided a focus for the rest of the evening's proceedings.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," panted Miss Richardson clearly close to achieving her goal. My face was just one slippery mess and as I breathed in her odour I was aware that my penis was straining for attention and leaking precum.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," she continued vocalising her feelings and not caring that her colleagues were watching her every move. Her petticoats crackled and swished over me. I wanted to wank myself into oblivion but couldn't. The straps really hurt me and I would have paid anyone anything to suck me off.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," she cried out, this time on the brink of her orgasm. I watched as she dragged her pubic hair up and down my face with more and more ferocity. My neck and shoulder muscles ached as she continued.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, oh, oh, ah, oh, ah," she continued sliding herself over me in small stabbing movements.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah." She appeared so close. I had to swallow the fluid seeping out of her as it was so copious and was gathering in my eye sockets. I swallowed and stuck my tongue out catching her sensitised nub. I prayed that she would hurry up and 'come' and she did.

"Ah, ah, ah, aaaaaaah!" she screeched as she convulsed rhythmically over my face. I watched her thighs shudder and quiver as wave after wave hit her like a Tsunami. 

"Oh yes, oh yes, that was fantastic, fantastic." She said whipping her clothes to one side and smiling into my face. She was no longer the 'cruel mistress' and clearly had come to her senses since the gunshot. She even patted my cheek as she stood up and stepped off me.

Almost immediately Lesley Hopkins swung a foot over me and I stared up her wide her brightly patterned knee length flared skirt which was supported by a multi-layered tiered petticoat. Her skirt appeared to be completely full of petticoat and it swayed from side to side as she swivelled her hips above me. 

Needless to say my penis stiffened once again as I watched her delicious dark brown stockings disappear under all those crisp nylon hems. She bent her knees to allow me a less obstructed view between her legs. She wasn't wearing any knickers and her ginger curls glistened under her suspender straps which gripped the tops of her stockings. Her legs looked so strong and athletic, but at the same time entirely feminine. One could tell that she was a games mistress even without prior knowledge. I yearned to lick her fanny which protruded noticeably from its hairy nest. 

I looked at her shoes which were open-toed black sling-back sandals with three inch heels. She noticed me staring at them and also saw that my penis twitched. She lifted her foot and placed her sole on my shoulder. It felt exquisite. The roughness of her leather shoe seemed to stimulate me further and I pulled at my straps trying to move my face under it. She could tell what I wanted and slid her shoe onto my face. I breathed in the smell of leather as she caressed my face with her stockinged toes which were hardly covered by the black leather straps.

She straightened up and placed her feet on each side of my upturned face. She bent her knees and I watched her slowly squat on my face with her long legs splayed apart. My chest was suddenly covered with soft petticoat net as she rearranged her pretty party skirt and under trappings around me and over me. Her cunt was already dripping with secretions as she slowly but surely began sliding herself over me in the now familiar fashion. 

She smelled very strongly of sweat and vagina, and it was almost unpleasant compared with some of the other cunts I had licked and sucked during the past five days. I was soon delving inside her and as she secreted more of her juices her odour became more agreeable and less bitter. 

Soon the games-mistress was bucking herself violently over my nose and mouth. Her petticoat thrashed about above me and crackled with static. The froufrou sounds were amazing as nylon layer slid over nylon nylon, and nylon petticoat slid against nylon stockings. My face remained steady as she began frantically 'bringing herself off' on me in fierce little jerks interspersed with wiping herself over my nostrils. My nose was dragged up and down her cleft as if she was attempting to scratch an itch.

"Oh yes," she whimpered as she sought to extract every sensation from the contours of my face. Above me her vagina now streamed out lubrication and once again I felt I was drowning in a sea of fanny juice. I snorted to clear my airways and licked and lapped at her clitoris as it passed overhead. 

"Oh yes, yes, yes," she spat, clearly gritting her teeth with urgency. I watched her thighs quiver and shake then felt something well up inside her. From nowhere involuntary shudders and shivering began as her pelvic muscles contracted and spasmed.

"Oooooh yesss," she cried out, now in the full grip of a powerful orgasm. I watched entranced as her body shook while the orgasm ebbed and died away.

"Oh my goodness, oh my fucking hell, that was good. How good was that? Oh my fucking hell," she chuntered to herself as she stood up and wiped herself with her discarded panty. 

Martine Hamilton was next to stand astride my face. She wore a black knee-length cocktail dress with a high collar and long sleeves. Her hair had been pulled back into a French pleat and she looked very sophisticated as one would naturally expect from a teacher of French. She wore quite a modest simple white nylon petticoat under her party frock and as she opened her legs further I found myself staring at a pair of white loose-legged lacy knickers above the tops of her black stockings.

I must admit that her lingerie was stunning. Needless to say her suspenders matched her knickers and the same lace trim even decorated the hem of her flared petticoat. She twirled above me and her dress swung out so that I could also admire her shapely legs. She was a truly an erotic sight. My penis was again rock hard and hopelessly straining for relief. I noticed Miss Wiff-Naseford standing next to Miss Hamilton urging her on.

" Get him to stick his tongue inside you and wiggle it," she barked above the music which now was blasting out of the small record player.

"OK I will," said the French Teacher gradually lowering her haunches onto my sticky face.

Immediately I pushed my tongue between her labia and moved it around. I heard the woman giggle girlishly above me as she steadied herself on my head. Miss Hamilton was clearly not used to being stimulated my tongues and her laughter told me that she was either nervous or embarrassed. The more I probed her the more she giggled, until she broke down with a fit of laughter.

"That tickles," she said shouting above the music. I looked at her legs splayed obscenely in front of me and at the growing damp patch in her knicker crotch. I probed her again and she told me once more that I was tickling her. I didn't know what to do so I moved my tongue to her clitoris. I flicked at her hood several times until I saw that her nub stiffened and became more pronounced.

"Oh my, oh my," she cried out. 

I stared at the underside of her petticoat which was draped across my eyes and drank in her female odours which now poured out from between her portals. 

"Don't stop whatever it is that you are doing to me," she carried on almost singing with glee. 

She no longer laughed and was clearly taking her pleasures very seriously. She pushed herself down on me and pulled my head up so that my mouth and her clitoris were almost locked together. I sucked at it and licked, probed, delved and massaged it with my lips, teeth and tongue. I understood by her breathing that she was unused to such attentions and I now began to wonder whether I should fuck her before I was finally released from Miss Wiff-Naseford's insane punishment session.

"Don't stop, Please don't stop," the thirty-something year old pleaded as my nose was pulled firmly into her thick pubic hair. I felt very hot and sweaty under her dress and nylon underclothes. Her loose legged knickers fortunately allowed me complete access to her nether regions and I settled down to a long session of cunnilingus with this comparative virgin to my skills.

Five minutes passed and Miss Martine Hamilton began groaning and switching. Every new lick was greeted by a moan until from out of the blue her twitchings continued independently. 

She was now 'coming' and I drove her further and further until she could take no more. She pushed me off her and told me that she was now 'too sensitive' and would 'piss herself' if stimulated further. I knew that young mammals, if stimulated on their genitalia by their mothers, would urinate so I decided to desist. I lay there in awe and watched her thighs shake uncontrollably. Inside her clothing I felt I was in my own private porn theatre and that the action appeared almost larger than life. When she had finished she stood up and readjusted her underwear and left me lying in a pool of sweat.

By this stage I was almost sticking to the carpet. I looked up at the teachers who were now back in their little groups and talking loudly. A pair of high heels appeared to be backing towards me dangerously close. They were four inch black patent leather sling-backs and looked lethal. I stared at the black seams on the fine denier stockings and strained my neck to see further up the skirt. Underneath the emerald green skirt were masses and masses of stiff nylon netting. She transferred her weight from one foot to the other and the skirt swayed outwards. She shuffled backwards until her heels touched my cheek. Immediately she swivelled around and looked down.

"Sorry young man," she said beaming at me her face clearly flushed with alcohol, "I didn't see you down there," she continued pulling her skirt to one side in order to maintain eye contact with me. 

"Why don't you squat on the Tom while I hold your drink Gillian," said the woman next to her. The woman introduced herself as Gillian Reeves-Thompson the biology mistress. The other woman, a curvaceous brunette, also in her early forties told me that she was Claire Simpson the English and physics teacher. 

I stared up at Gillian as she released her skirt and it spilled over me, with her petticoat cascading over my face as she squatted on my face. She opened her legs and I was treated to a view of smooth white thighs framed by black stocking tops and a white suspender belt. She wore no knickers. Her pubic hair was dark brown and appeared very soft and wispy. She edged forward and shook her skirt over me. Her calf length skirt and stiff white petticoat covered me completely and I heard her resume her conversation with Miss Simpson.

"Pass me my drink please Claire, thanks; and what did you think of Geraldine Wilson's practical paper, good wasn't it?"

" Yes and young Helen Bickerton's work was outstanding too," Claire exclaimed standing next to the squatting woman in her white blouse, long full-circle taffeta emerald green skirt. 

Anyone who cared to cast their eyes over the scene would have noticed my puny thin legs pulled outwards towards two corners of the room and my large erect penis dribbling precum on my stomach. They would have also seen my head, chest and shoulders completely concealed under Gillian Reeves-Thompson's huge skirt and petticoats. They would only just be able to see her skirt moving slightly where my head was busy under her. My tongue by now had slobbered between her labia and was licking and flicking her clitoris. Only her eyes and disjointed speech would have given the game away.

I continued breathing in the odours from between Miss Reeves-Thompson's damp thighs as I ploughed on determined to pleasure this woman and her friend, knowing that there was only the kitchen staff left.

I pushed her ever onwards until she began screaming and jerking uncontrollably.

"Oh no," I thought, "We've got a bloody 'screamer' here." From under her skirt her screams were partially muffled but it was loud enough, I thought, to attract the rest of the school.

"I'm sorry," she screamed to the rest of the room, "This is fucking fantastic," she screamed on. 

I was half expecting Miss Wiff- Naseford to fire her starting-pistol again but instead someone turned up the music. 

Her screaming continued and I fought hard not to lose the rhythm of my probing and clit-sucking. The screaming went on and on until she came. I felt her muscles tighten as she held onto by head thrusting downwards onto my slime covered face. For two long minutes little waves palpitated inside her and travelled up and down her vulva.

Her screaming became embarrassingly loud and I prayed that she would end soon. All of a sudden she stopped and slowly slid off me and sat on my chest with her legs splayed out in a provocative and lewd manner.

"Fucking hell, that was fantastic," she croaked, her voice clearly strained through her excessive incessant screaming.




David's Tall Girls' School Ch. 26



I looked up at her and smiled. She noticed her pubic hair between my teeth and picked it off; I was glad to have been of service and told her so. She stood up and swung her skirt and petticoats over me just as Claire Simpson stood astride me in her pale blue ball gown. 

"Hold my glass and knickers please Jill," she said to her friend who still looked red faced from her orgasm.

Claire Simpson was the only woman in the room wearing an ankle length evening dress. It was gathered at the waist and had several tiers each wider than the one above. Every tier overlapped the one below and was finished in broderie flounces. It looked so feminine. 

Her shoes were navy blue four inch stilettos and she placed one and then the other next to each of my cheeks she shook her dress over me so that I lay staring up between her legs. Under her dress she wore a wide layered nylon underskirt which was trimmed with a narrow lace border.

She wore white stockings which made her look like a bride. These were held up by a white nylon suspender belt. Her black pubic hair stood out from their predominantly smooth, white and pale blue surroundings. Her thighs bulged out above her stockings as she was curvaceous compared with some of the other teachers.

"Are you ready young man?" she said as she bent her knees and lowered her heavy arse onto my face and shuffled around until her cunt rested on my lips. 

I wasted no time in licking her labia and prizing her open like an exotic rare fruit. Immediately her juices flowed and my face once more became a sticky mess. She lasted ten minutes before she came. I used every trick in the book to stimulate her and eventually she screeched out her orgasm and collapsed backwards, her dress open and her legs exposed for all to see. 

For some reason Miss Wiff-Naseford began applauding and everyone else joined in. Soon the room was full of clapping teachers and Miss Simpson sheepishly stood up. I lay exhausted on my back with my ankles and wrists completely numb. Miss Wiff-Naseford stepped over to me and took up her usual position of standing astride my face so that I could look up her dress.

"Ladies, I am pleased to announce that young Tom here has almost completed his punishment and has only the three kitchen staff to...err...service. I propose to get them in now and get it over with. Now where is Matron? I want him cleaned up straight away."

Matron had been talking with Muriel and Celia and was wearing a black cocktail dress. She appeared a little worse for wear but looked in better shape than the head teacher who was swaying unsteadily above me. Matron unfastened the straps and I was allowed to stand. I looked a sorry sight and apologised to her.

"Don't worry Tom, we'll get you showered and sprayed with Eau de Cologne so you'll feel nice and fresh for Mavis, Carole and Linda.

I was taken to the staff shower room and enjoyed a welcome five minutes under hot soapy water. I ached all over and felt parched. I had a thumping headache from the whiskies. As soon as Molly had finished drying me and spraying me with perfume I was led back to the headmistress's study where four of the younger teachers were jiving to a skiffle-group record. 

I lay on the carpet where someone had placed a small cushion and waited for the final three. No one appeared to want to tie me down so I began masturbating while staring at the dancers' legs and flashes of lacy petticoats.

"Ah Tom the kitchen staff are here and you will pleasure Mavis first," said Miss Wiff-Naseford above the now raucous music. A motherly looking woman in her mid-fifties walked across the room. The head teacher showed her what to do and she pulled up her tight black skirt and underslip and squatted on my face. 

Her odour hit me. It was so strong and acrid. What was it about older women? Why did they smell much stronger between their legs? Immediately my tongue was inside her. This time the room could watch what I was doing and I felt somewhat bashful. 

Mavis appeared embarrassed too and between us we just shut our eyes and 'went for it' After three or four minutes of clitoral licking she shuddered, tightened all her muscles and shook violently as she came. Her stockings pulled at her suspenders as she stepped off me and pulled her skirt down. I looked up and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I gripped my penis and prepared myself for Carole.

Carole wore the usual white blouse and black knee length skirt. She wore a pleated woollen skirt over a white flared slip. Her black stockings contrasted dramatically with her white underwear. She reached under the back of her waitress's uniform and pulled down her knickers and handed them to Mavis. She then stepped over me and straddled my face. 

She was much younger than Mavis and her legs looked stunning. I began masturbating furiously as I watched her lower herself onto my face. Her labia smelled so musky and enticing. She was a very attractive young woman and I eagerly lapped and licked at her open fanny. She responded immediately and told me that her 'young man' used to do this to her before he died in the Korean War.It didn't take long before she reached her climax which was announced by urgent gasps, moans and groans.

Finally Linda squatted on my face in a similar waitress's uniform and it took fifteen minutes of constant probing to 'bring her off' I had wanked myself senseless and lay back staring at the pool of semen rapidly drying on my stomach.

Molly cleaned me up and I was allowed to put my clothes back on. The other party guests kissed me and shook me by the hands.

Finally Miss Wiff-Naseford kissed me, then savagely French kissed me, and told me that it was refreshing to have a male in the school. 

She also invited me back whenever I felt the urge to orally pleasure more Tall Girls from the Dentwood Finishing School for girls aged 18 to 20.

Molly kissed me too and gave me her telephone number. I was determined to see Molly again and get my hands and face inside her nurse's uniform.

A taxi took me back to my friends home.

THE END

(Thanks for all those who emailed me with encouragement and ideas...I never thought it would take this long to write and at one stage I wished that there were fewer girls on the school register. I shall switch back to the other stories which need finishing off....THORILLA.)