EXTRACT FOR
Brats on a Boat
(Melissa DuVant)
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Brats on a Boat Melissa DuVant Copyright © Melissa DuVant The right of Melissa DuVant to be identified as the
author of this book has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of
the Copyrights and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or
utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic
mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including
xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or
retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author. All characters in this book have no existence
outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone
bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any
individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure
invention.
Table of Contents Chapter 1: From Guest to Entertainment Studying Submission Preview Chapter One: An Isolated Institute
I was watching a lot of Below Decks, OK? Chapter 1: From Guest to Entertainment The music was loud, cheery and annoying, making Malcolm's head throb. High-pitched squeals and giggles echoed off the cabin walls, as he took a sip of water, not touching the wine-glass. A arm, warm and soft, pushed up against his, and he turned to look around. At least the view was nice! The woman pressing up against him was wearing just a lace bra and tight panties, showing off every inch of her sculpted body, her hair and makeup immaculate. 'So, Captain, what do you think of the cruise so far?' The woman turned away slightly, preening herself as she presented herself for his appreciation - her lips slightly plumped from plastic surgery, her breasts soft and large against the white bra. 'The lingerie party was my idea, do you like it?' She gestured - beyond the table was the night sky of the ocean, a deep and abyssal black with just a few flecks of light for other ships. And around the table were the other guests, all dressed in lingerie, sultry and sexual, as they helped themselves to the food and wine. It was honestly hard telling most of them apart - all with the same sort of body, likely assisted by personal trainers and a few surgical alterations, their flesh all soft and tanned, with slight pale bikini-marks, diamond, gold and silver jewelry around necks, fingers and ears. 'It's been easy cruising so far - the weather report for tomorrow is good.' He glanced over at Kathy, the chief stewardess, lurking unobtrusively with a bottle of wine. She looked back at him, before nodding and dropping a large pill into the bottle of wine. It fizzed for a moment, before she went around the table, topping up each of the glasses except his. It didn't take long for them to drink up, a loose fuzziness entering their speech, one of them sagging to the side, eyes vacant. 'Captain, I... I don't feel so good...' Her eyes fluttered, mascara-wrapped eyes dark and smoky, eyelashes unnaturally long. Malcolm reached out and patted her on the head, feeling the fluffiness of her hair, the strands long and soft, with countless hours of care gone into it. She was struggling for consciousness, her body suddenly warmer. He reached out, squeezing one of her thighs, feeling the softness of her skin. 'You are a well-shaped thing, aren't you? I wonder how much it's cost to create you - all those hours at the gym, the beauticians, the injections and everything else. And now you're just a spoiled, unless brat, spending her parent's money on holidays like this. You've never earned anything by yourself - you're just a useless parasite.' She was still conscious enough to hear him, as he groped her further, feeling the band of her stockings and the suspender-straps holding them up. 'A good-looking one though. And now we've got the chance to have some fun with you - it's four days until we get back to port.' She squirmed, trying to protest, but the drug was taking effect now, her body limp, eyes barely open. He squeezed her thigh harder as her body went fully slack, her breath coming in slow pulses. 'This is the final charter of the season, so I like to let the crew have some fun. You're probably not going to be used to rough treatment, but your lives have been far too pampered up until now - this is going to be a learning experience. Now, chief stew, let's get our guests prepared.' He wrapped an arm around the woman's waist, dragging her up to standing. 'Not much to you, is there? But that's going to make you easier to play with.' 'Mphh... Nphhh...' She was trying to make her lips work, as dribble started to slide out of her perfect and glossy lips, down onto her chin. One of the others had managed to rise, before there was the crackle of electricity, one of the deck craw catching her as she fell, a taser in hand. 'Good job, Billy. Let's get our guests arranged.' Malcolm groped a breast, enjoying the feeling of the soft yielding skin. 'I'm going to have some fun with you!' 'Mphh...' He felt a slight tension through her muscles, as she tried to fight against the drug, without success. With one hand around her waist, he used the other to grab at her bra, hooking fingers beneath it and then pulling, tearing it off her body. Her breasts had a pleasing firmness to them, bouncing slightly, before he slapped them several times, making them jiggle around more. He heard the click of metal, as the chief stew put a large cardboard box on the table, several pairs of handcuffs falling onto the table with a clatter. 'Thank you, Kathy.' He looked at her - older than the "guests", but still slender and pretty, with her uniform closely tailored to her body, showing off her curves. Being on her feet all day had given her well-toned legs, her feet bare on the decking. She drew out a paddle from the box, running her hand over the flat surface. 'Of course, Captain. I want to persuade these dumb sluts to leave a nice tip. And it's been a long season, so it'll be nice to relieve some stress. These bitches had me up until 3 in the morning, getting them drinks!' She reached down towards a tanned back, jabbing her nails in and scraping them down, leaving scratch-marks in the soft skin. 'Maybe this will teach them some respect for those of us that actually have to do work!' She dug her nails in harder, before jabbing with the end of the paddle. Malcolm tossed the woman over his shoulder, knees sagging slightly beneath her dead weight, her belly on his shoulder. She didn't weigh much, but he spent most of his time steering the ship, letting the deckhands do all the heavy lifting, and wasn't getting any younger. Still, he managed to carry her up onto main cabin, where everything was still being set up. Plastic tarps covered the floor, crinkling beneath his feet. All the interior decorations were, of course, the finest quality, with well-polished wood gleaming gold in the electric lights, a glass-fronted cabinet holding expensive wines and champagnes, everything neatly stowed for the journey. Ropes dangled down from the ceiling, ready to hold the guests up, and a wooden set of stocks was in the process of being assembled by the third steward. 'Billy, help finish those off.' The stew looked up at him, giving him a grateful smile - she was new for this season, all tanned limbs and sun-blonde hair. And not much skill with handicrafts, it seemed. 'Let's see what we've got! Get them dangling up, and then we can divvy them up.' He walked towards the dangling rope, slinging the woman off his shoulder and holding her arms up, looping the rope around her ankles and drawing it tightly. She hung there, a dead weight, feet just barely touching the floor. Gravity stretched her out beautifully, her belly taut and smooth, likely the result of more expense. Her friends were strung up on either side of her, the ropes getting adjusted so that they were all suspended with their toes on the floor, all of them still in their drugged stupors. Malcolm grabbed the backside of one of them, sinking his fingers into the pert buttocks, squeezing it hard, enjoying the contrast between skin and delicate lace, before hooking his fingers around the material and yanking. The lace stretched for a moment before yielding, snapping off her body, and the woman stirred slightly. Kathy, as organized as ever, was going down the line, shoving ballgags between glossy lips, tightening the harnesses of straps around each head, plumping up breasts within bras for best effect. Malcolm took up position at one end of the line, watching as the stocks finished assembly, bolted onto a metal plate, nice and heavy and secure. 'Good job. I like to reward my crew at the end of each season, and this has been a good one - it's rare to get a crew that works together so well! And with some guests like this, it would be a shame not to take advantage.' A soft moan sounded from behind him, one of the guests starting to recover themselves, before the zap of a stungun sounded and a pained squeal. 'There's plenty to go around, so there's no need to get greedy or rush! We've got a few days before we need to drop these ladies off, so we can all have some fun first.' He turned around, looking over them - two of them were almost copies of each other, with the same, exquisitely-cared-for hair, youthful curves, even similar faces, probably getting their plastic surgery from the same place. One was the same, but with black hair instead, as her eyelashes started to flicker, consciousness returning. Of the remaining two, one was a petite Asian, red-rimmed glasses on a small, round face, framed with black bangs. He reached out and carefully slid them off her face, folding them up and putting them into a drawer. The last one was darker, skin a soft brown umber, her black hair tied into a single thick braid, wound with golden jewelry, her body tall and slender. 'As captain, I will pick who gets used first.' One of the blondes spasmed in her restraints, pulling herself up by her arms before dropping back down, the ropes digging into her wrists. Her long lashes fluttered, before she tensed up with a pained grunt, getting zapped. 'I think this one.' He pointed at the dark-haired woman. A faint trickle of droll was starting to flow down her perfect, shiny lips, around the bright sphere of the ball-gag. Two of the deck crew took her down, dragging her over to the stocks. She seemed more awake than the others, but not by much, barely struggling as her head was shoved into the stocks, the top bar locking her into place. Kathy handed him a Cuban cigar, which he lit, taking a deep drag, holding it in and savoring the taste, as he walked behind the bound woman. His hand cracked against her buttocks, as hard as he could manage, the sound echoing against the cabin walls. She groaned through her gag, and he spanked her again, before she awoke fully, her body tensing up. 'Oh good, our guests are starting to wake up.' The stocks were arranged opposite the suspended women, as they started to wake, able to see their friend. Surprised and shocked squeaks sounded out from behind gags, as they started to squirm and wriggle, pulling themselves up before dropping down. 'Good evening, ladies.' He took another drag on the cigar, blowing out, able to see the smoke dancing in the air. 'There's been a change of plans - for the rest of this trip, you will be entertaining us, rather than vice versa. I'm sure this will be the first time in your pampered lives you've ever had to do work, but you'll have to do the best you can.' He laid a hand on the bare back of the woman in the stocks. 'Jemima, wasn't it? You were given a job in your daddy's company as a vice-president, despite having no skill or qualifications. So consider this community service.' Low, wet moans echoed out, all of them trying to protest from behind their gags, wriggling against their restraints. Their bodies, lovely and soft, tensed up, feet scrabbling for purchase. He took another drag on the cigar, before pushing it down, stubbing it out between Jemima's shoulder-blades, the tip burning her flesh. She made a louder moan, her arms twisting, unable to get out of the stocks. 'You're going to be the first, and then we're going to have some fun with you and your friends.' He started to grind his hips against her soft backside, feeling himself harden. She tensed up, trying to pull herself away, but couldn't, caught in the stocks. The five others, still dangling from the ceiling, were watching, eyes wide with shock and fear. There was the sound of wood on skin, the Asian grunting as Billy hit her ass with a paddle, using enough force to make her swing through the air. 'Sometimes meat needs to be tenderized first.' He jabbed a finger into the burn-mark from the cigar, pressing down hard, enjoying the way Jemima squirmed, before opening up his flies. His cock fell between her buttocks, and he ground against the soft curves of flesh, enjoying how they gripped at him, the slight scratchiness of her panties. 'I wonder if you've ever had a good ass-fucking before? Maybe it would have taught you better behavior if you had.' She squealed again, her wrists and neck knocking against the stocks, still unable to free herself. He parted her buttocks, pulling her panties aside, revealing the tight little knot of her asshole. 'The more you relax, then the easier this will be. But the more you struggle, then the more fun it will be for me!' He spat, the glob of spit landing between her ass-cheeks, using his cock to smear it over her asshole. 'Surprised you've not had anal bleaching, you seem vain enough.' 'Nphhh! Pleph, stophhh!' Malcom ignored her pleading, spitting again, before taking his cock in hand and starting to push it into her. He had to push hard to violate her body, forcing it into the tight hole, feeling every little twitch and judder she made. 'Nice tight bitch, aren't you? Maybe we should have gotten you more drunk to help you loosen up?' He spat again, this time the gobbet landing on his cock, helping him to slide further into her. She was twitching and writhing in shock and fear now, the other women all looking on with fear in their eyes, unable to move to protect themselves. He withdrew, before thrusting his hips forward, feeling as Jemima tightened around him. He was deeper into her now, deep enough that she couldn't keep him out, his hands taking hold around her hips, keeping her in place. She groaned, as he started to set a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out of her, now managing to get deeper with every thrust. From what he could feel of her breathing, she was in full-on panic mode, her breaths short and shallow, trying to wriggle out of his grip. 'Rich bitches always have the best shitters! Nice and tight, and you're all on weird diets so you're nice and clean.' He looked up, staring at the suspended women, still trying to wriggle free, their wrists starting to chafe from the ropes. Which one would be next? The blondes would probably all be the same, but at least this time there was a bit of variety. He could feel his release building up, as he looked over the crew, all with tools and toys in their hands. 'Kathy, label them up. We can rate them as we go, and I'd hate for us to get our guests confused.' 'Yes, Captain.' She took a red marker pen and popped the cap off, approaching one of the blonde women. She tried to move backwards, feet scrabbling against the floor, but had no traction, as Kathy wrote across her belly. "Slut 1" Malcolm was now fully lodged within Jemima, able to feel every slight twitch of her body. She was so tight, he could feel her sphincter around his shaft, resisting his movements! And then he came, shooting out cum into her asshole, easing his path, making it easier to shift his hips back and forth, before he withdrew. Some of the cum started to ooze out of her asshole, as she choked and sobbed, before Malcom slapped her ass, enjoying the hand-imprint he left behind. 'Was that your first time? I thought you rich bitches liked it up the ass! Now, line up in rank order.' The crew obeyed, forming an orderly line, with Kathy at the front, a fat strap-on buckled around her waist. 'Everyone gets a turn on young Jemima here, and then we can move onto the others. I firmly believe that all bonuses should be evenly shared! And she mentioned that it's her birthday, so I think one fuck for every year, that seems fair.' He slapped Jemima's backside again, before stepping aside, Kathy stepping in and slamming the strap-on deep into Jemima's asshole, stretching it wide. Jemima screamed, at least as much as she could with the gag in, her back writhing. The other guests were moaning as well, their gags making the sounds into wet mumbles, their lips unable to form words. Malcolm watched as the crew each took their turns on Jemima's asshole, the tight knot getting forced wide, loosening after each fucking, cum and lube dribbling out, stained with red. When he went around to her front, Jemima's eyes were wide and unfocused, staring into space. Even several slaps to her cheeks only bought a vague semblance of awareness to her face, fat, thick streams of spittle flowing out from behind her gag. Well, that would make her nice and easy to deal with! He turned to the other guests, all of whom shrieked and tried to back away. 'If you're good guests, then we won't have to be too harsh with you. But if you're naughty or disobedient, then things will get rougher for you. We've had to deal with a lot of wealthy pricks this year, so you'll have to forgive us for being frustrated.' He reached out, grabbing a pair of breasts and squeezing. 'Are these natural? Congratulations if so.' 'Mphhhh!' The woman's response was a muted scream, panic on her face, unable to escape, as he chuckled at her. 'Don't worry, we've got a full trip planned. Lots of fun for everyone! So why not be friendly?' He squeezed harder, before slapping her belly, enjoying the whoosh of breath from her lungs. When he turned back around, most of the crew had done, Jemima limp in the stocks, a puddle of dribble beneath her mouth. A tally had been etched onto one of her buttocks, marked up to 8 lines already. 'Very good. Now let's have some fun!' Malcolm took a puff on his cigar, leaning out of the window to exhale the smoke. From behind him came muffled and gagged squeals, the guests getting fucked - Jemima's ass was now covered with a load of scrawled tally-marks, cum and lube flowing from her asshole, having splashed to the tarp beneath her. The others were still struggling against the ropes, their bodies attracting a few slaps and pinches, but everyone's focus was on Jemima. She was limp in the stocks, sagging down, probably barely conscious. He felt a hand pull on his sleeve, turning to see Holly, the third stew. She'd slipped out after ass-fucking Jemima, but had come back, looking nervous. 'Captain, there's... something of a problem.' He took another drag on the cigar, before tossing it out the window, into the sea. 'What is it?' She was practically vibrating with nervousness, her fingers twitching, eyes darting around. 'There's... There's someone else on board! I went into the primary's cabin to see if there was anything good in her luggage. And there was another woman in there, on the bed! She started to wake up, and I ran to get you.' Malcolm looked back around, to see Jemima getting ass-fucked again, her body twitching without any conscious control, the others still squirming and moaning, unable to break free, before walking away, being sure to close the door behind himself to block the noises. The ship hallway was quiet, the plush carpet beneath his feet swallowing the sounds of movement, as he turned his head, trying to listen. He could just about make out dim sounds of fucking still, and the throb of the ship's engine. And then a voice, still drowsy from sleep - 'Peyton? Where is everyone? You didn't invite me, so I snuck into your luggage!' He strode towards the sound, turning around a corner towards the guest cabins. Walking towards him was a young woman, her hair long and unbound, falling to her waist in a soft auburn river, wearing a disheveled party dress, short and black, just barely long enough to cover her crotch. She blinked at him, slightly bleary, before smiling. 'You must be the captain? I'm a friend of Peyton Osgelt, who is paying for this. Where is everyone?' Malcolm approached, putting on a wide smile, hoping that his half-erect cock couldn't be seen through his trousers. 'We weren't informed of another guest. The other are currently celebrating.' What would be the easiest way to get her under control? Having someone wriggling and screaming was always a pain in the ass, and if she started to kick and fight, she might scratch or damage the interior walls! She wasn't very large, but her nails looked sharp enough to scratch, and the adrenaline of a fight response could make even the dumbest of rich sluts into a nuisance to deal with. Holly pushed against him from behind, whispering into his ear. 'Want me to try and bag her from behind, Captain?' He nodded, standing to the side to let Holly walk past, pulling out a plastic bag from her pocket, speaking to the woman again. 'Don't mind her, she has work to do. I'm Captain Malcolm, and this is my ship. Having an extra person on board might cause problems, so I'll need to see your passport and other documentation.' She giggled - was she drunk? He glanced down, seeing an open bottle of champagne in her hand. 'Don't worry, I'm sure that can all be sorted out!' Behind her, Holly turned around, holding up a clear plastic bag. She bought it down over the woman's head, managing it in a single, smooth motion, then tightening it around her neck. She immediately started to struggle, her hands coming up, the champagne bottle getting dropped. Malcolm lunged for it, not wanting to have to deal with the mess of a spillage, hand grabbing the neck before it hit the floor. The woman's eyes were wide and bulging, her hands coming up to her neck, trying to pull on the bag, her mouth wide open and panting. Malcolm backhand-slapped her in the belly, knocking the air from her, enjoying the way her eyes went even wider, her pained groan audible even through the bag. She tried to throw herself back to get Holly off, but Holly bent with the motion, keeping the bag tight, as it was sucked into the woman's mouth. She started to flop, the strength leaving her body, Malcolm slapping her stomach again. She was slowly lowered to the floor, her legs giving way beneath her. 'Must be a friend of those other bitches. Well, there's always room for one more. Stupid rich sluts!' He pulled at Holly's hands, letting air flow beneath the plastic, the woman taking a convulsive breath, still barely conscious. Studying Submission Preview Chapter One: An Isolated Institute The hangover jangled Madison's head, her skull throbbing as the car drove up the winding mountain roads. She was thankful for the tinted windows, helping to block out the bright sunlight on steep, tree-filled hillsides. How much had she drunk last night? But it had been a great party - dancing from dusk 'till dawn, going through a blurry succession of clubs, her mind filled with the memories of flashing strobes and heavy bass. Groping hands moving over her butt, attractive men pushing themselves against her, sweat heavy in the air. Not that she'd gone all the way with any of them - although she might have blown one of them in the toilets? That had been after slamming down several shots of vodka, so it was hard to remember though. But the way that the men had looked at her, their eyes hot and covetous... Madison pulled her thighs together, a tired, head-throbbing pulse of lust washing through her. Was she even wearing underwear? A memory flashed up, of her pulling them off, holding the skimpy lace out, before rubbing them onto the face of someone, grinding against them and feeling their cock pushing against their jeans, before leaving them there, frustrated and denied. 'You need to be on your best behavior.' Madison groaned as her bitch of a stepmother spoke, primly perched on her seat. She was dressed in a close-fitting black dress and pearls, paid for with Daddy's money, of course. Money-grubbing bitch! Why Daddy had married her... 'You've been causing a lot of problems recently, so I convinced your father to take action. This is a chance to make a new start - a finishing school, far away from any... negative influences. And it's costing a lot of money, so I do hope you won't disappoint your father again. You're almost twenty, you should be behaving more like an adult!' If Madison hadn't been so hung-over, then she would have stuck her tongue out, but her mouth was dry and gungy, and all she wanted to do was sleep, maybe after a good fuck, or at least a session with a vibrator. She was twenty, yet was still treated like a child! The car turned around a mountain-edge, and a valley opened up - a picturesque mountain village was neatly contained around a sparkling lake, wood-framed houses set around a village square. Madison groaned - the place was tiny, and definitely wouldn't have any clubs or bars! Overlooking the village was an odd mixture of a castle and manor. Thick grey walls were softened with flower-covered vines, a blocky central tower rising up from behind it, windows reflecting the sunlight. But next to that was a castle-manor like something from a TV shows, a combination of sturdy grey stone and less military mansion. It was like something from a theme park, except real, with splashes of color - more flowers? - visible at the windows. Madison's stomach lurched as the car dipped down a steep slope, bumping her around in her seat. 'Here. Drink this.' Her stepmother handed over a bottle of water, the stuff looking cloudy, but Madison didn't care, opening it up and gulping it down. She'd need to go for a piss soon, but she needed liquids! The road through the village was cobblestones, the bumping around making Madison's entire body ache, her head too numb to form thoughts. All that she noticed through the village was that there seemed to be more young women than expected, all dressed in a uniform - knee-length black skirts and white blouses, with red blazers, most wearing tights. A uniform? She wasn't a kid! Although it did look tighter than most, highlighting their breasts and waists. The agonizing cobblestones continued, as they drove up towards the castle. The place was surrounded by large, open gardens, old-fashioned statues set amongst greenery, box hedges blocking her vision, with smaller buildings half-hidden amongst the estate. It was a relief when the vehicle finally stopped, the juddering throbbing no longer running through her bones, the motor clicking off. The door was opened, warm air and sunlight rushing in, Madison fumbling to put sunglasses on. Outside was stood a young woman, wearing the same uniform, a black choker around her neck, with black leather gloves on her hands. She had wavy and glossy black hair that fell partway down her back, tied at the nape of her neck with a leather band, and smooth brown skin. She looked at Madison, making her feel suddenly self-conscious - she hadn't changed from last night, and was still wearing a tight and short silver party dress, coming barely to her thighs, her heels discarded for the moment, her feet bare. Madison tried to stare back, but was too tired, looking away first. 'Madison, I believe? You are late, but the headmistress is expecting you.' They reached forward, grabbing Madison's arm and pulling her forward, out of the vehicle. She was too weak to resist, the woman stronger than she looked, leather-wrapped hands gripping tightly. Her bare feet touched onto a gravel floor, the stones spiking her feet. She yelped in pain, trying to shift her balance, but there was no way to get comfortable, as she danced around. Madison tried to jump back into the car, but the woman's grip was too tight. 'Let me go!' They changed their grip, pulling her closer, the gravel spiking her feet again, before wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her up, carrying her over a shoulder. It shoved into her stomach, making it hard to breath, and making her head tilt downwards against their chest. Madison's long, blonde hair flowed downwards, getting into her eyes, as she tried to crane her neck to look around, feeling one hand tighten on her bare ass. She almost barfed, the taste of bile rising up in her throat, and then the woman started to move. From the position Madison was in, she could see that they were wearing brown leather flats, black stockings sheathing her legs. Madison was carried inside, through a grand wooden doorway, grumpy-looking statues glaring at her from both sides. Another schoolgirl was sat behind a desk and nodded at them, before scribbling something into a fat leather book, an inside door then opening with a metallic click. Inside was revealed luxury - a red-and-gold rug covered most of the stone floor of a waiting room, the walls covered with expensive-looking paintings and ornaments. They lifted Madison off their shoulder, putting her on the floor, the rug beneath her feet, keeping one hand on her shoulder. Their gaze was strong, as they reached out and gently plucked Madison's sunglasses off her face. 'It would be better not to annoy the headmistress on your first day.' She looked down at Madison's clothing. 'More than you're already going to, at least.' They brushed their hand against Madison's face, tidying her hair a little, close enough that her body pressed against Madison's. They were wearing makeup, but it was very restrained, "natural" looking, save for smokey mascara circling her eyes, and her lashes were long and soft. The door clicked shut just after Madison's stepmother passed through, some device within the thick wood locking into place. There was a skylight, high above them, but only one other door, this one just as sturdy-looking. What was this place? Madison had been drunk when the bitch had been telling her about it, other than that she was being sent "away" to help with her "problems". The inner door opened, and another young woman stepped out. Her skirt was shorter, coming to just above her knee, but her face was red and ugly, with tears running down her cheeks. Her hands were held open, and Madison could see that her palms were covered with red marks, before she twisted them away, turning back to face into the room and bowing, deep enough that the back of her skirt rose up, revealing that her thighs were covered with more thin red marks, some starting to darken into bruises. After bowing, she turned back, her tear-filled eyes meeting Madison's for a second, before she scurried away, slamming against the door and having to hammer on it before it opened. The sounds of her footsteps retreated, going silent as the door shut once again. Madison swallowed, suddenly nervous, her bladder full. Could she go for a toilet break? But her guide took a firm grip and pulled her forward, fingers like iron, digging painfully into the bones of her wrist. She was yanked through the doorway, into the adjoining room. It was even larger than the waiting room, although the stone floor was cold on her feet - there was a large rug, arabesque patterns of red and blue and white, around an imposing desk. The walls were covered with dark wooden shelves, leatherbound books and ornaments in place. Wood rattled, drawing Madison's attention, to where a tall, slender woman was sliding a wooden stick into a pot holding a whole bunch of the things. She was dressed in an ankle-length skirt, her blouse showing off an hour-glass figure, corset wrapped around her waist, black hair scraped up into a bun. 'Mrs. Kitherton? And you must be Madison?' She turned and walked back to her desk, sitting down on the heavy wooden chair in place behind it, the thing high-backed, like a throne. Of to one side was a strange ornament, what looked like hinged wooden blocks stood up atop a wooden base. Although there were windows, they were only narrow, the room filled with soft shadows, details of what was on the shelves impossible to make up. She wanted to lay down and rest, to sleep off the head-throbbing hangover! The woman dragging her around let go, standing back and out of sight. Madison's step-mother walked forward, seeming nervous herself. 'Yes. I heard about your... establishment from a friend who sent her daughter here. Reiko Ishikawa?' 'Oh yes, little Reiko. Yes, she took some work to shape, but she got there in the end. And is now happily married. It's always a delight when one of the students is taken as a wife. Now, this is... Madison, I believe?' Her voice hardened, any warmth draining away as she addressed Madison, looking her up and down. Madison stared back, trying to ignore the still-throbbing headache, now shot through with tiredness. She wanted to sleep! But she wasn't going to be a good girl for this old bitch, although she couldn't help but tug on the hem of the dress, trying to pull it down a little, to cover more of her thighs, hoping that it wouldn't be noticed that she had nothing on beneath. 'Yes.' 'Yes, Ma'am. While you are here, you will behave with respect towards your superiors. It would be a poor start if you were to begin with some demerits.' Her look was strong and powerful, forcing Madison to look away. 'Isabella will be your grande sœur - it will be up to her to explain how things work here. And to make sure that you are behaving appropriately. It seems as though you have been allowed a little too much freedom - that ends now. Your guardians have determined that this is the best for you. There is no escape from here - the sooner you accept that the better. Now, Isabella, take your petite sœur in hand.' Madison heard a tearing sound, taking a moment to realize that it was the sound of fabric getting torn, leather-gloved fingers tearing at the neckline of her dress and ripping downwards, tearing it away from her body. Cool air suddenly kissed against her skin and she realized she was naked, forcibly stripped. Fierce shame burned through her, the prickling hot-cold flushes of humiliation. Her hands moved to cover herself, one over her crotch, the other over her breasts, as she tried to hunch over protectively. 'As you command, Headmistress Lehrerin.' A gloved hand gripped the back of her neck, pushing her forward. 'Hey! Let go!' Madison tried to wriggle away, but the grip on her neck was strong, the other student implacable. She didn't dare move her hands away, not wanting to show herself, as she was shoved forward. The large rug was warmer than the bare stone, but she didn't want to be naked! She tried fighting free again, kicking backwards, feeling her heel connect against a leg. A stiff hand chopped into her flank, just beneath her ribs, before she was simply picked up, lifted off the ground and back onto their shoulder. Madison bought her hands down, punching them in the back, but it made no difference, not even stopping their movement. Her senses spun and swam, hangover making her wanting to retch. As she inhaled to protest again, she got flipped through the air again, the back of her head knocking against the desk, dazing her. Her vision wavered, the dark wood of the ceiling flickering around as she stared up at the headmistress. She reached forward and twisted the wood, bringing it down over Madison's neck. When she tried to rise up, the wood didn't move, locking her into place. She couldn't see what was happening, but her hands were pulled back onto the desk as well, more wood hinging downwards, forcing her into a painfully arched position, feet shuffling awkwardly. 'Fuck off! What is this! Let me go!' She flailed with her legs, only stopping when a hand grabbed one of her breasts, squeezing tightly. 'Isabella was on the disciplinary committee - she is very skilled at keeping her fellow students on the straight and narrow. Now, Madison, I know that you are new, so I am willing to be somewhat merciful. Apologize to your grande sœur, or there will be consequences. As she will be in charge of you, I would advise humility.' 'No! Let me go! Stupid bitch.' A hand slapped her belly, her tit still getting crushed. 'Another word from you, and you will lose the privilege of speech.' 'You can't do this! Let me grphhhh!' The headmistress pushed a thick wad of cloth into her mouth, shoving it between her teeth. It immediately started to soak up her spit, more fabric getting pushed in, making her cheeks bulge out. 'Mpphhh!' 'Silence. Students that disobey are punished.' Madison tried pushing with her tongue, wanting to get her mouth free, but the headmistress tutted, before holding up some kind of leather strap, with a thick middle part and a bright buckle. The middle padded bit was placed over her mouth, before the strap was wound around her head. 'Mpphh! Lphhh!' There was no way to dislodge the fabric, and it was wicking away all the moisture in her mouth. 'Not the best of starts. Isabella, I leave the rest of her education to you. I was hoping to have her change into her new uniform, but her behavior shows that she is not yet worthy of it. Perhaps exposure to the alternative will render her more obedient? Now, I need to settle some formalities, and payment, with Mrs. Kitherton. You may walk your new petite sœur to her room.' She flicked Isabella's forehead, before touching some part of the restraint device and releasing it from the desk. She was pulled up to a standing position, her arms now locked into the yoke, in line with her head, elbows down. The wooden thing was so tight she couldn't slide her wrists out, her hands grasping at air. With her head locked into place, she was looking up, her stomach roiling, chest aching from the strikes and blows. Metal clicked, and the wooden block was detached from the upright bar. She was pulled upwards, bringing her face to face with Isabella. She tried to whimper through the gag, but couldn't manage more than a desperate whimper, before Isabella hooked fingers through a ring on the front of the wood. There was no way to resist, as she was dragged away, cool air sliding over her naked body. They dragged her forward, pushing the door open. Shameful prickles flushed through her, hot and cold, her body entirely exposed, her squeezed tit still aching. Isabella was moving fast, never giving Madison the chance to recover herself, pulling her back through the waiting room and the entrance hall, and then outside. The chauffeur saw her, smiling and shocked as he looked at her naked body, and she wanted to curl up and die of shame. She barely even noticed the biting gravel stabbing at her feet, as she was pulled forward, and then into another building. More young women, all in the uniform, were there, staring at the interruption. 'Npphh!' But there was no way to fight back or resist, and her mind was fuzzy and dazed. She lost track of directions, getting hauled through hallways and passageways, up a spiral staircase, knocking her toes against a steep step. Another wooden door was already ajar, leading to a room she barely glimpsed before getting pulled into a tiny, cell-like bedroom, with a small bed, a tiny window and a wooden chest. She was thrown onto the bed. 'I was hoping for a nice, polite petite sœur. But it seems that I'll have to be rougher with you. Unfortunately, you seemed determined to act up - if you ever shame me like that in front of the headmistress again, then I'll be punished as well. And if that does happen, then you can be sure that I'll take it out on you.' As Madison tried to stand, Isabella straddled her, pinning her in place with her own weight. She reached over to the chest and pulled out some rope and a leather sack. The rope went through the loop on front of the wood, then around the bed-frame, getting tied short, dragging her head over the pillow. 'You can think about your future behavior. Afterwards, I'll be teaching you correct behavior. Harshly, if needed.' She squeezed a nipple, hard enough to make Madison squeak, then shook out the sack. The opening was wide, and it was then dragged over Madison's head, plunging her into darkness. It tightened around her neck, locking out the light, before Isabella stood up. 'Good girls get rewarded. Bad girls get punished. The better you behave, the more likely you are to graduate to a good home.' 'Mpphhh!' The rope held steady when Madison tried moving, making the yoke tighten around her neck, choking her. She spiraled down into darkness, giving in to the tiredness the rose up within her. Melissa DuVant writes a variety of BDSM-inspired stories, such as Digital Slave and is one of the co-writers of the St Michael's University setting. When not writing, she is generally planning RPG campaigns, reading or cooking. |