The Scholarship Ch. 04

I just stood there mutely, hoping Miranda would move on. But, of course, she didn't.

"Now, Sarah, please tell Marni how much you enjoyed our last interview. The truth now."

"Well," I hesitated. "I'm not sure 'enjoyed' is quite the word."

That was definitely not the answer Miranda was looking for.

"Oh, so you didn't enjoy it, Sarah? Is that what you're telling me? You know all I require of you is truth and obedience. Or do you want to fly home without your scholarship?"

My face began to flush a little, knowing that I was going to have to admit to Marni, not to mention to Rachel, who was still sitting at Miranda's feet caressing her boots, that I did get off on the humiliation. Before I could decide how I could answer the question truthfully, but in a way that made me sound a little less like a slut, Miranda came back at me.

"All right, Sarah, let's approach it this way. We won't use the term 'enjoy,' since you seem to be somehow afraid of it. Tell me, dear, at our first interview, did you tell me about that dirty old man that made you let him cum on your breasts?"

"Yes," I answered quietly, not daring to look at Marni or Rachel. I cast my gaze downward, and there they were . . . Miranda's boots.

"Very good! Now we're getting somewhere." Miranda's voice had taken on a mocking tone. "And did you raise your dress and pull your panties aside so I could see your cunt?"

My cheeks were bright red now, thinking of what Marni and Rachel must be thinking. "Yes," I whispered.

"Excellent! Now here's the key question, dear. When you pulled your panties aside and showed me your little cunt, was it wet?"

"Yes," I whimpered, my bottom lip trembling.

"Well, Marni," Miranda said mockingly. "I'll let you be the judge of whether our Sarah enjoyed it or not. What do you say, Marni, did she enjoy it?"

I was aware of Marni shifting around a little where we stood, obviously uncomfortable in having to be the jury in this little war of words between Miranda and me.

"Tell me, Marni," Miranda pressed. "Did Sarah enjoy it?"

"Well," Marni began reluctantly, obviously trying to find a way to spare my feelings. "It sounds as if she responded to it, at least."

"Oh she 'responded,' did she? Another nice euphemism. Why can't I get a direct answer from anyone? Miranda's voice was louder. She was obviously getting impatient.

"All right, Sarah, I don't think Marni has quite enough information to form her opinion about whether you enjoyed our last interview." I knew what was coming next. I just didn't exactly how she was going to ask me.

"Sarah, please explain to Marni what you did after you showed me your wet little cunt that day."

I looked over at Marni and saw pity in her eyes. She knew it was going to be bad, but she didn't know just how bad. She mouthed, "I'm sorry," as I tried to think how to describe delicately what happened.

"Well," I began reluctantly, my voice barely audible. "I was aroused, you know . . . and I rubbed myself on Miranda's boot."

"You rubbed yourself, did you, Sarah?" Miranda mocked. "Tell Marni what you rubbed, dear." And I'd finally had enough.

"All right, you bitch!" I screamed at her. "I rubbed my pussy on your boot! And I came and came and came. How's that for the fucking truth?!"

I saw Miranda's mouth tighten just a little when I yelled at her. But, of course, she was not going to let me have the last word.

"Sarah," she said, looking at me coolly. "I think a demonstration would be in order, please lower your jeans." As she said it, Miranda pulled her right leg from Rachel's grasp and extended it toward me.

My lip started to quiver again. "Oh god, Miranda! Oh, fuck. Here? Now?"

And the bitch simply nodded her head.

Slowly, reluctantly, I began to unfasten my jeans, lowering them enough to expose my thighs, my panties, which were already quite wet. Miranda knew they would be, of course.

I stood there with my eyes lowered, unable to look at anyone, especially Marni. But I felt three pairs of eyes on me as I reached for the waist band of my panties and pulled them down to expose my mound. I slid the thong down to my knees with my jeans and took a couple of steps forward.

Slowly, I knelt astride Miranda's boot and pulled her leg to me. I lowered myself onto the boot and felt the cool leather against my labia. All the feelings that had haunted me for the past few months came flooding back as I felt Miranda push the boot upward into me.

"Good girl, Sarah," I heard Miranda's voice in the distance, as I entered this sick, perverted world of lust and surrender. I moved myself against her, over and over, and felt the beginnings of an orgasm building deep inside me. I had reached the point where I didn't care who was watching or what they thought.

I didn't hear Miranda's voice at first. "All right, Sarah, that's enough for now."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing! She'd taken me right to the brink and now the bitch was making me step back. It was vintage Miranda.

"That's enough, Sarah," she repeated, as she withdrew her leg from my grasp. "Stand up now, dear."

I stood up, not even bothering to pull my jeans and thong up from around my knees. What difference could it possibly make at this point?

By this time, my eyes had filled with tears and I was struggling to muffle the sobs that were trying to escape me. I really didn't want Miranda to have the satisfaction of making me cry. But it was clear how upset I was, and Marni moved closer to me and put her arm around my shoulders.

Through all this, Miranda hardly changed expressions. She just sat there with that humorless smile on her face, running her hands through Rachel's hair. "Now, Marni, wouldn't you say that Sarah enjoyed her last interview with me?"

"Yes," was all that Marni could manage.

"All right," Miranda said cheerfully, "now that we've established that we're all going to enjoy ourselves here, let's get started!