ACADEMY |
by:
Whitish Monkey |
Melvyn stood apprehensively as the imposing
woman walked around him. She examined him from every
side with the air of someone performing a disagreeable
but necessary task. He'd never met quite such an
intimidating female before and he was more than
a little nervous. It wasn't just that she was at
least ten years older than his own 18 years nor
the fact that she was a good head taller. No, it
was the way she walked with the air of somebody
used to having their orders obeyed (instantly!)
that cowed his normally rebellious nature. The swish
of her long, black leather skirt, the sharp click
of her heels on the wood floor and the softly threatening
slap, slap, slap, of the crop in her right hand
against her leather-covered thigh didn't help.
"Well?" asked his stepmother. "What
do you think?"
The woman stopped her pacing to stand in front of
Melvyn frowning down upon him. "Oh, Amanda,"
she said shaking her head and making her long, blond
curls fall - quite attractively Melvyn couldn't
help noticing - across her shoulder. "It's
really a big favour you're asking you know?"
"Yes Catherine but you've known me long enough
to know I wouldn't ask lightly", she replied.
"He's always been a little wild and since his
father died last year he's been totally uncontrollable
- thrown out of three schools already!", Amanda
answered.
Melvyn never thought of Amanda as 'his mother'.
His parents had divorced when he was very young,
his father's money and lawyers gaining custody.
Melvyn could never figure out why for almost immediately
he had been dispatched to a series of boarding schools.
His memories of his father were of fleeting visits
with a cold and distant stranger. He hadn't even
been invited to the wedding when his father married
Amanda, a woman thirty years his junior, after a
holiday romance. By the time the old man had his
heart attack a year later Melvyn could conjure up
very little feeling for him.
His reminiscenece was broken by a sharp crack as
Catherine brought the crop against her leg with
a decisive whack.
"Very well Amanda. We'll take him in and see
what we can do", she said.
A startled "What!" escaped his lips as
Amanda nodded her thanks and made to leave.
She turned back to him and addressed him in a contemptuous
tone.
"Miss deSachi runs a very small and elite finishing
school. I have imposed upon an old friendship to
ask her to take you in hand", she said.
Anger flooded his voice. "I'm not going anywhere
with this bitch!", he shouted.
Suddenly he felt a stinging pain in his cheek and
realised with surprise that Catherine deSachi had
struck him with the crop. He reacted instinctively
by balling his fist and drawing back his arm to
land a punch on her jaw. It never connected. With
an unnerving swiftness Miss deSachi's hand lashed
out and wrapped itself around his wrist, dragging
him off-balance towards her.
"That", she whispered darkly. "Would
be a very big mistake".
Melvyn tried to tug his arm back but her grip seemed
to be made of sprung steel. Instead of releasing
him she increased the pressure and began to force
him down. He fought to prevent an agonised gasp
escaping his lips as he felt his wrist bones begin
to grind together.
Catherine deSachi spoke to him in a calm, matter-of-fact
tone as he slowly went to his knees before her.
"Listen to me boy. Right now you are nothing
but a foul-mouthed, bad-tempered vandal. But in
a very few years you will have to take over the
reins of your father's businesses. With some careful
training I'm sure we can turn you into a passable
version of a human being. You should know I run
a very strict school here and one of the prime rules
is that you commit no acts of violence of any sort.
Is that clear?"
Melvyn's entire consciousness was focused now around
the agony Catherine's elegantly slim fingers were
engendering in his wrist and he barely managed a
jerky nod to her query.
"Good!", she said suddenly releasing his
arm. He couldn't help himself from sucking in a
great, noisy draught of air as the pressure lessened
and he stayed on his knees, gently massaging his
bruised skin as she continued speaking.
"I'll think of an appropriate discipline later
for you but now you can get on your feet and follow
me boy".
Melvyn scrambled to his feet quickly as Catherine
spoke to Amanda.
"You can leave him in my care. I'll let you
know when I'm satisfied with his progress".
Amanda nodded with a smile and just as he turned
to follow Catherine through a rear door, Melvyn
could have sworn he saw the two women exchange a
knowing wink.
The interview had taken place in a bare
room of large and very remote mansion. Amanda had
driven them for several hours from the city along
deserted country roads to get here. As Catherine
led him down a long corridor, white walls and bare
floor echoing their footsteps loudly, Melvyn realised
he hadn't been following the route so he had no
idea where the big, old house actually was! He didn't
have much time to think about his predicament though
before Catherine stopped at a door no different
from the many others they'd passed, turned the handle
and said; "In here".
He surprised himself with the swiftness with which
he moved to comply with her order but the dull resentment
that began to build in him was washed away almost
immediately as he found himself standing in a high-ceilinged
classroom before an attentive audience of beautiful
young women. He counted twenty five girls, each
around his own age he estimated, seated primly at
high, old-fashioned wooden desks. Catherine's crop
in the small of his back encouraged him to cross
to the top of the room where another attractive
woman was just putting a book down on a desk. She
was just as imposing a figure as Catherine though
in a different way.
As he came up beside her at Catherine's urging he
discovered she was equally tall but her clothes
consisted of a striking contrast of polished black
calf boots, skin-tight white trousers and an equally
clinging high-neck black jumper that stretched revealingly
over the swell of firm, high breasts. Where Catherine
was a pale blond in complexion this woman was dusky-skinned
with a mane of jet black hair that fell well past
her shoulders. She returned his stare with a quick
up-and-down look that clearly consigned him to the
class of 'repulsive insect'. Catherine began introducing
him.
"Miss Acciaio. Class. This is Melvyn Warner.
He will be attending our academy for a while".
The class of young women exchanged glances and tittering
whispers at this until Miss Acciaio clapped her
hands for silence.
"I realise", Catherine went on. "That
accepting a boy into an all-girl school is a somewhat
unusual step but I'm sure you will treat him as...",
she smiled thinly, "...just one of the girls".
A gamut of emotions cascaded through Melvyn's head
as Catherine continued speaking, outlining the classes
he would be taking. An all-girl school! What the
hell sort of set-up had Amanda landed him in? He
scanned the amused faces of the class of girls,
a flush rising to his cheeks, for what teenage boy
can stand the undivided attention of a couple of
dozen beautiful young women with equanimity? Embarrassment
gave way to a calculating anticipation as he began
to realise the carnal possibilities of being the
only male among his classmates and by the time Catherine
had finished speaking and ushered him out of the
room he was almost smiling to himself with expectation.
As she had a few final whispered words with Miss
Acciaio, who nodded briskly, he began to plan his
first conquests. He didn't know it but his fantasies
of endless erotic escapades were about to be put,
very securely, on ice.
Catherine marched him along some corridors,
up one flight of stairs, along more hallways, then
down two flights of stairs. He felt sure they were
going in circles. Eventually they came to a door
which she opened and ordered him inside. He found
himself in a long, white-tiled shower and changing
room. To his surprise he found Miss Acciaio and
another woman were waiting there. Miss Acciaio had
changed out of her jumper and trousers into a snug
halter top and even snugger, cut-off denim shorts
which revealed the shapely length of her superbly
formed legs. He couldn't help noticing, with a small
shiver, the long, slim shape of a riding crop held
casually in one hand.
The second woman wore a loose white T-shirt which
she started to pull over her blond, pageboy cut
as they entered. Revealed underneath was the most
fantastically muscled body Melvyn had ever seen
on anyone, man or woman. A silver, one-piece swimsuit
emphasised her deep tan and did nothing to hide
the muscles that rippled along her limbs with every
slight movement.
Catherine spoke to the two women. "I'll leave
him in your care for now ladies. Return him to my
study when you're done". She strode regally
out of the room without a word to Melvyn.
"Strip", said Miss Acciaio without any
further ado.
"You what", Melvyn asked in surprise.
The women exchanged a glance then the muscular blond
stepped close to Melvyn so that he had to crane
back a little to meet her gaze. She was not quite
as tall as Catherine but her sheer muscular bulk
was incredibly intimidating. Melvyn got the impression
that she was only waiting for an excuse to snap
his body in half.
"You're new here boy so listen carefully",
she began and the suppressed fury in her tone made
Melvyn's spine shiver. "You will obey any and
all orders given you by an instructor instantly,
fully and with enthusiasm! Failure to do so will,
in future, be met with the severest discipline.
Am I making myself quite clear?"
"Yes, very clear", he answered in a neutral
tone.
"That's 'Yes Madam' and 'No Madam' boy",
she snapped.
"Yes...Madam", he reluctantly uttered.
She stepped back and Melvyn breathed a little easier.
"I am Miss Kearn and I teach physical education,
sport and self defence. Miss Acciaio, to whom you
have already been introduced, teaches English and
history. Later on you will be presented to Miss
Sekia and Miss Anglique who teach Arts & Crafts
and Sex Education & First Aid respectively.
Now. You will strip yourself or we will do it for
you".
Slowly and reluctantly Melvyn began to disrobe.
As he removed each item the women threw it into
a small, wooden chest. When, after a little further
encouragement in the form of a painfully hard slap
across his buttocks from Miss Acciaio's crop, he
had removed his underwear, Miss Kearn closed the
lid and slipped a large padlock through the clasps.
"You won't be needing those for a while I think",
she said. "Now, stand to attention".
Melvyn stood mute and miserable. Despite his best
efforts, his manhood had swollen to embarrassing
proportions in the presence of the two beautiful
and revealingly clad women. He tried to conceal
his organ by cupping his hands in front of himself
but Miss Kearn moved behind him and, reaching round
his torso to grasp his wrists had yanked his arms
firmly to his sides. Still holding his wrists she
lent forward until her lips were almost brushing
his ear. "Stay!", she whispered. The warmth
and pressure of her brests pressed against the naked
skin of his back caused him to swell further but
he didn't think of disobeying her quiet order for
even a moment. Releasing her grip she walked around
to face him where the two women examined his slim
form with distaste.
"He's not much to look at is he?", commented
Miss Kearn.
"No, they never are", answered Miss Acciaio.
"And I'm sure his mind is just as unimpressive",
Miss Kearn added.
"He'll just have to work hard to improve then",
said Miss Acciaio. "And speaking of unimpressive,
we'll have to get rid of this", she added,
sliding the tip of her crop slowly back and forth
along the underside of Melvyn's engorged member.
With those words, and the touch of cold leather,
Melvyn's skin crawled.
"Oh look", Miss Acciaio laughed. "It
seems to be vanishing of its own accord!"
Miss Kearn stepped closer to look. "But not
nearly enough". She strode to one of the open
shower stalls against the far wall and spun the
dial all the way over. The room was filled with
the hiss and splash of the stream of high-pressure
water.
"Get in", she ordered Melvyn.
He approached timorously and reached out a hand
to the gushing jet. No sooner had the water touched
his skin than he snatched his hand back. "That's
freezing!", he complained.
The two women exchanged a knowing look then suddenly
each grabbed one of Melvyn's arms, pulling it back
and up then used the leverage they gained to thrust
him forward into the icy spray.
The shock of the water suddenly drenching him almost
stopped Melvyn's heart. He gasped for breath, a
shrill whistling screech escaping his lips as goosebumps
erupted all over his body. He tried to struggle,
to push himself out of the freezing deluge but the
women simply twisted harder until he almost fainted
from the pain, sure his shoulders were just about
to pop out of their sockets.
"Stand still, boy!", Miss Kearn admonished.
"A little water never hurt anyone".
Needless to say, at the first touch of the chill
water, his erection rapidly subsided. Miss Acciaio
nodded in satisfaction but they still kept him under
the shower for several more minutes until his skin
was a pasty white and his cock had shrunk almost
to invisibility. Finally they yanked him out of
the cubicle and Miss Kearn took over holding back
both of his arms - her muscular grip quite unbreakable
to Melvyn's puny form - while Miss Acciaio padded
damply over to the second case. The sight of the
soaking, halter top and shorts clinging to her leith
form as she bent over the case was enough to return
a mild tingle to Melvyn's abused organ.
"Hurry up", Miss Kearn called. "I
do believe the little worm is becoming aroused again".
Miss Acciaio returned swiftly with a small, metallic
silver device. As Miss Kearn pulled him backward,
arching his back and thrusting his hips forward,
Miss Acciaio's strong hands deftly slipped the device
around his genitals. A wide, ratcheted chrome ring
was clipped around the base of his scrotal sac by
her slim fingers. Watching his face intently she
slowly tightened it, one mechanical 'snick' at a
time, until she could see his eyes fairly bulge
out of his head. She then closed the ring one, final,
satisfying further notch - engendering a gasp from
Melvyn - before slipping his flaccid penis through
a short, slim tube attached to the first ring via
a small hinge. The hinge allowed the penis to move
up and down but only until Miss Acciaio threaded
a slim silver chain attached to the end of the tube
up, behind and between Melvyn's balls to clip securely
onto the back of the ratcheted ring. Melvyn felt
Miss Kearn released his arms in a renewed flare
of agony and the two women stood back to survey
their handiwork.
"There!", said Miss Acciaio with a considerable
degree of satisfaction in her voice. "I hope
you like your new addition. You can consider it
a permanent fixture while you're staying here. It
will assure that any ideas that little piece of
worthless flesh gets are held firmly in check. Now,
you can stand at attention while we dry off the
water your childish antics soaked us with. Don't
move and don't speak or it will be the worse for
you!".
The women grabbed towels from a nearby rack and
began to rub themselves vigorously. Melvyn stood,
dripping and freezing, afraid to twitch in case
he aroused the ire of his cruel mistresses. The
women seemed to take forever to dry themselves and
after a while Melvyn noticed that their rapid towelling
had slowed to a more deliberate pace. The began
to dab and caress at each other's bodies in a slow
and lascivious manner. Melvyn found himself becoming
helplessly aroused at the sight of the stunning
amazons standing closer and closer together, caressing
each others firm, muscular flesh. As the clean,
white cotton was rubbed invitingly over breast and
thigh and smooth, flat stomach, Melvyn's cock began
to rise to the occasion. In moments it found the
limits of its tiny, new prison and began to hopelessly
try to push its way out and up. As it did so, the
achingly tight chrome ring around the base of his
balls was dragged agonisingly down and out, the
slim chain dragged up until it felt at if it was
trying to saw his balls in half. His muffled whimpers
were counterpointed by the low, aroused moans escaping
from the women's lips as they stood now, breast
to breast, belly to belly, arms encircling each
other, caressing back and buttocks while the towels
lay discarded at their feet. Melvyn's body began
to arch forward in a fruitless attempt to ease the
unending torment in his balls. He tried desperately
to think of something else, anything to distract
himself from the sight of the beautiful women embracing
tightly in front of him but to no avail. As their
lips touched and they shared a long, lingering kiss
he found he couldn't stand it any longer. "Mmmm..
Ple...Please, mmm...Please!", he murmured.
The women broke their embrace to grin wickedly at
his mewling, twisting form. "Well", laughed
Miss Kearn. "I hope you've learned that lesson.
The only reason men have balls is so women can crush
them!"
"Yes", added Miss Acciaio, laughing along
with her friend. "And we won't hesitate to
do so at the slightest opportunity".
He looked up into their faces and through the tears
streaming from his eyes he saw only a remorseless,
relentless cruelty etched in their beautiful features.
Miss Kearn scooped up one of the damp, discarded
towels and threw it at Melvyn.
"Dry yourself off boy. We have to present you
at Miss deSachi's study. Be on you best behaviour
I warn you; she is nowhere near as kind and forgiving
as we are!"
A short while later he found himself standing before
Miss Catherine deSachi again. For some reason he
had expected her study to be a shadowy Victorian
den full of old dark furniture. He was somewhat
surprised (enough to distract himself from the remaining
ache in his genitals for a few moments) when he'd
been marched in to find a light and airy room. A
top-of-the-range computer and flatscreen monitor
occupied a wide, bleached-ash desk and several tasteful
and expensive items of casual furniture were scattered
about. The only jarring note was the dozens of dark
splash-like stains on the pale wood floor. He was
desperately trying to convince his feverish imagination
that they were not blood when Catherine began speaking.
"Well boy", she began as she stood in
front of him, again slapping her crop against her
leg in an offhand manner. "Did you enjoy your
shower?"
"Yes Madam", he answered quickly, following
carefully the expected formula as his two tormentors
had instructed him.
"Good!", she said. "And I'm sure
we can manage to find a more suitable uniform for
you tomorrow".
Melvyn didn't think his level of embarrassment could
increase any further but he felt a fresh flush rise
to his cheeks at the mention of the ridiculous costume
the two women had thrown at him and ordered him
to dress in after he had dried himself as well as
he could on the damp towel. They'd explained with
a laugh that there were no 'boys clothes' in the
building as he'd squeezed himself into the tiny,
pristine white, girl's gym shorts. He thought he'd
gotten them as far over his hips as he was going
to when the women had ordered him to stand with
his legs wide apart. They'd each grabbed a couple
of belt loops and yanked savagely upwards several
times until Melvyn could feel his testes being crushed
up into his body. Eyes watering, he watched as Miss
Kearn then looped a wide, leather belt through the
hoops, drawing it as snug as she was able (which,
given her tremendous biceps, was breath-stealingly
tight) before buckling him up. On the long walk
to Miss deSachi's study he'd found a breathing rythm
that allowed him adquet draughts of air but the
belt around his waist made his torso's lateral muscles
almost useless for balancing. He'd never realised
before how difficult a chore just walking could
be as he'd tottered and swayed along the corridors
between the two women.
The crack of Miss deSachi's crop on his thigh broke
his reverie. "And, of course, you've been fitted
with your genital clamp?", she queried.
"Yes Madam", he answered again.
"Good. Very good", she nodded in satisfaction.
"I'm sure you must think it a terrible device
of torture but it's really in everybody's best interests.
Firstly, I have some thirty girls currently resident
and they must be protected from any rampant male
lusts. Secondly, the denial of your male, animal
nature will free your mind to concentrate on the
lessons you are here to learn. Lastly, it is both
the symbol and the cold, hard reality of your current
position. Make no mistake, you are completely in
our sway, entirely at our mercy. Amanda has given
us carte blanch as to how we tame you of your errant
ways and we intend to make full use of that liberty.
We will do whatever is required to break you of
your brutish behaviour patterns and instil more
socially acceptable ones. Nobody but Amanda knows
you are here, nobody will come to look for you.
Nobody will rescue you if you feel we are being
too harsh. Your tenure in this establishment will
be until I am satisfied with your progress, be that
six weeks or sixty years and during that time your
manhood will be controlled by me alone".
Melvyn's heart sank as he heard those fateful words.
He realised he'd been harbouring a tiny hope that
this whole thing was some sort of 'short, sharp
shock' therapy Amanda had dreamed up. Hope fled
as he began to realise he really was under the thumb
of this group of sadistic women.
"Tomorrow you will begin your classes but for
now there is the little matter of you inexcusable
attempt at violence earlier today. Let me think,
what punishment would be suitable?".
Melvyn's heart sank - he'd totally forgotten he'd
tried to punch Catherine at the interview! His knees
turned to jelly at the thought of what a punishment
would be like given the severity of the treatment
he'd received so far.
Catherine deSachi stood in silent thought for a
few moments then clicked her fingers. "I'll
be leient with you since this is your first day.
You will spend the rest of the evening and the night
in this study".
Stay in the study, Melvyn thought? That doesn't
sound too bad at all. He was just wondering which
would be the most comftorable couch to sleep on
when Catherine strode over to a large footlocker
against one wall. She flipped up the top and motioned
Melvyn over.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Get in",
she said.
Melvyn looked from the locker to Catherine in amazement.
The locker was barely three feet by three feet by
four!
An edge of steel entered Miss deSachi's voice as
she said; "Don't make me order you again!"
Slowly and reluctantly, Melvyn stepped one leg,
then the other onto the wooden base. "Now hunker
down", she commanded.
Melvyn did as he was told. He jammed himself into
the cramped space as well as he could. Catherine
stood over his miserable, tightly curled form with
one hand on the lid. "You can spend the next
few hours in here thinking on your wrongdoing. The
planks are lose enough to allow you air - probably.
Anyway, I'll send someone to get you out in time
for classes tomorrow". Darkness enclosed Melvyn
as she lowered the lid. He heard a muffled scraping
then a very secure 'click' and he realised that
a thick padlock had been fastened around the locker's
latch - he was here for the night!
When Catherine finished attaching the padlock
she walked through into the adjacent office. She
knew that the locker had sufficient holes to allow
Melvyn to breath. Murder wasn't the intention but
a night in there would certainly soften him up for
the following day! Humming happily to herself, she
dialled Amanda's number. The old friends greeted
each other warmly.
"Well?", asked Amanda. "How is it
going?"
"Pretty good so far", Catherine answered.
"He gave a little trouble at first but we soon
took care of that".
"Do you think he will fit in?", asked
Amanda.
"Oh, yes", smiled Catherine. "He'll
fit in like a square peg in a round hole. But we'll
soon knock the rough corners off him. The instructors
are just dying to get a boy in their class so they
can show the girls just how weak and pathetic a
sex they are. If he thinks he's had a rough time
so far just wait till he has his first day of classes!",
she chuckled and both women laughed cruelly at the
delightful suffering that would be inflected upon
their hapless victim.
In his cramped, dark, prison - the ache
in his contorted limbs already beginning - Melvyn
heard the faint peal of Catherine's laughter ring
from the other room and his soul filled with dread
at what the morning might bring.
END (of part 1)
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