Classroom Stories Ch. 01

It was morning at the St. Margaret's Academy for Wayward Girls, and dressed in their standard school uniforms consisting of a simple blazer and a knee length skirt, the twenty or so girls of class 2-1 stared straight ahead as they waited for their usual inspection to begin. It was like this every day before class. Standing silently beside their desks, they shifted nervously in place as their homeroom teacher walked on by with the attendance sheet held in his hand.

"Sarah Williams, Rosie Patel, Phila Lee...," he said.

Mr. Wilson was one of the nicer teachers, but the procedure was still the same. And as much as he tended to grade leniently on the exams, the tension in the room could almost be felt as he waved for the first girl standing in front of him to step forward and lift her skirt up above her waist. There was a slight tremor as she looked up at him, her blond hair swaying about her shoulders as she trembled underneath his gaze. Then, biting down hard against her lips, she reached down to pull the material upward so that the white fabric of her panties were on display.

"Higher," said Mr. Wilson, and the girl did as she was told, lifting her skirt up higher for him to see. Blushing even harder, she stood with her legs fully exposed, the stares of her classmates looking on from behind. There was little time to think about such things however, as Mr. Wilson reached out in the next moment to place his hands against the inside of her thighs.

"Ah...!"

It was barely a whisper, a subconscious utterance that she swallowed down instantly before it could even be heard, but in the silence of the room it was almost like a cry of guilt as it escaped past her lips. And being only eighteen years old like the rest of her peers, it was almost as if the poor girl herself didn't even know what to do. Her breasts just the right size, lifting upward in just the right way to fit his hands.

Besides a slight stiffening of her posture from where she stood, she made no attempt to stop the inspection as Mr. Wilson reached out to slowly touch the delicate shape of her privates through the thin cloth of her panties, tracing over the lips of her labia underneath. Even when he moved his fingers up to rub against the tiny bump protruding from the top of her slit, it was almost as if she had been frozen in place as he pressed down against the sensitive organ of her clit. A quick blush followed by a short jerk of her hips, and it wasn't until her face was burning bright red with shame that he finally relented. Pulling his hand away, Mr. Wilson nodded in satisfaction as he held his fingers up for everyone to see.

"Adequate," he said, and the girl lowered her skirt again with a visible sigh of relief. Blushing one last time, she bit down on her lips as she sat down behind her desk. Then, it was on to the next girl standing in line, and then the one after that as they waited for their turn.

Ticking off each name as he ran down the list, Mr. Wilson stopped before each one as they held their skirts up to expose the plain white fabric of their panties. And in between the sound of the clock on the wall and the silence of their tears, the responses that they made were always an interesting sight to see. Some stared straight ahead as he reached down to touch them, and others blushed the moment their skirts cleared their knees. With no choice but to stand there as they waited for him to finish, however, there was nothing they could do as he reached down to feel along the soft mound of their most intimate place between their legs.

A series of short circles traced around the base of their clits, and there was no hiding the tenseness in their bodies as they shivered from the way his fingers pressed against the hidden nub underneath. The fact that a single wrong move on their part meant a trip down to the headmaster's office with a punishment slip in hand didn't even need to be said.

"Sasha Lowery, Madeline Vane, Mary York," said Mr. Wilson, "And last but not least..."

Smiling, he reached his hands out towards the final girl waiting for him at the end, running his hands over the sensitive strip of skin where her thighs formed a gap as they pressed up against the outer edge of her panties. Lifting the bottom of her skirt up even higher, he looked at the way the thin garment lay flush against her body. From the way it was ever so slightly misaligned however, with the soft shape of her vulva forming a line barely visible underneath, it was quite clear that there was more to the situation than it seemed. A suspicion that was confirmed a moment later as he moved his finger up and over the sensitive nub at the top of her slit.

Seeing what he was doing, the girl blushed even harder as she turned her head away. Her clit was more than just a little stiff when he reached out to touch it, hinting at the true cause of her discomfort with all the subtlety of her sin. Masturbation was strictly forbidden at the academy, and it must have been quite a while since her last orgasm if she was desperate enough to try and sneak something past the caretakers that constantly roamed the halls of the dormitories. Try being the key word here. More than likely, she had been forced to stop halfway through out of fear of being caught, leaving her frustrated all night long and unable to sleep.

"Vanessa Clemons, is it?" said Mr. Wilson, and the girl stiffened a little as he called her name.

"Yes, sir," she mumbled.

"Would you mind lowering your panties for me please?" asked Mr. Wilson.

"Sir?" asked Vanessa, her eyes going wide.

If she hadn't been guilty before, then she certainly was now. Blushing even harder, she mumbled a half-hearted excuse as she tried to delay.

"But I haven't...," she stammered.

"It'll only be for a moment," said Mr. Wilson, interrupting her, "A quick check to see if everything is as it should be down here, and then you can sit back down again in your seat."

Of course, whether or not it would end there depended on the results, and Vanessa trailed off as she started to realize exactly how much trouble she was about to be in. There was another moment of hesitation as the entire class turned to stare at her, and she almost seemed to melt away under the intensity of the stress. Left with no choice, however, she reluctantly slipped her fingers underneath the waistband of her underwear before sliding them down ever so slightly so that the top half of her mound could just be seen. Any further now, and the beginning of her slit would be fully visible from where it curved downward between her legs.

"Please, sir...," she begged one last time, but the situation was already past the point of no return. The rules were quite clear on the subject, and reaching out as if to comfort her, Mr. Wilson gave her a gentle squeeze with his hand.

"It'll be better for you to just admit it instead of lying," he said softly.

There was one last moment of consideration, of unwilling resistance unrealized, and then Vanessa finally gave in, lowering her panties all the way down until they were stretched out between her knees. With her skirt still held up above her waist, the full length of her privates were now laid bare and she closed her eyes tightly as if it was enough for her to turn invisible and disappear. Fully shaven, there was not a single strand of hair for her to hide behind.

The shame of her embarrassment only grew worse as Mr. Wilson reached out to spread her open in front of the entire class.

One, two, three...

Three seconds, and that was all it took for the verdict to be made.

"You're wet," he said.

It was a simple statement, a matter of fact, and Vanessa winced as he continued to run his hands up and over the contours of her lips, noting the dampness that clung to them as he pulled his hand away.

"Was the spanking from last week not enough for you?" asked Mr. Wilson.

"No, sir," mumbled Vanessa.

"And what about the punishment plug you had to wear afterwards. No improvement there either?" he asked.

It was a common enough punishment that most of the students had experienced it at least once before, but no matter how many times she was subject to it, Vanessa couldn't help but wince again at the memory of the toy every time it was forced up her rear hole. Even with the ample amount of lubrication that was used, the awful sensation of being invaded back there only seemed to make the fullness that resulted even worse. Not to mention the way the plug was set to randomly vibrate every few minutes or so to keep her on edge. Given that her classes often lasted the entire day, just having to sit there in silence as she was teased over and over again without release was enough to drive her near insane.

"I'm sorry, sir," she mumbled again, and Mr. Wilson reached up once more to press against the tiny nub at the top of her slit. Drawing the protective hood back with his thumb, he sighed as he brushed his fingers over the delicate pearl underneath.

Vanessa jerked forward again as she held her breath. Oh, what she would give for just a few minutes alone in a closet or under the covers of her bed. Even if it meant being punished afterwards, the feeling of emptiness she felt was almost painful as the stimulation stopped right before she could hit the edge. Another few strokes along the delicate folds of her inner lips, and Mr. Wilson sighed as he stood up in front of her.

"Front of the room," he said, still looking at the way her clit pulsed in time with her heartbeat, "And this better be the last time, or you'll be looking at the inside of a chastity belt for the rest of the year."

Swallowing hard, Vanessa moved to do as she was told, shuffling forward to stand awkwardly with her panties still stretched out between her legs. Wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her uniform, she sniffled as she drew them all the way down to her feet before stepping out of them and lowering her head. Despite what she must have known was coming next, her nipples were already stiff as they pointed upward from her breasts. Her shirt did its best to cover them, but there was no mistaking the sharp points as they stood up underneath the fabric for everyone to see.

The tension in the room rose another notch as Mr. Wilson walked over to reach into the drawer of his desk before returning again with a leather crop in his hands.

"How many?" he said.

"Sir?" she asked.

He tapped the tip of the leather instrument against the inside of her thighs, and she shivered as it slowly moved up towards her slit.

"How many do you think it will take before you stop playing with yourself?" he said.

"I don't... I don't know, sir," she said again.

Wrong answer, and really, any student past their first year should have known better than to say such a thing. There was something like a tiny flicker of annoyance as Mr. Wilson brought the crop down against the inside of her legs, and Vanessa cried out at the sudden surprise of the impact. Even if she had been wrong, any response was better than none at all when it came to the number of strokes she was supposed to receive.

Smack!

Mr. Wilson raised the crop again, and Vanessa cried out as she danced on the spot.

"Thirty!" she gasped, "I mean, twenty! I mean, zero!"

"Which one is it?" he sighed in exasperation.

Another blow, closer up this time, and Vanessa cried out as her hands flew down between her legs to protect her most intimate places from being struck. Barely had she moved however, when the rod came down again to push them out of the way.

"The sooner you can give me an answer, the sooner we can start and end," said Mr. Wilson.

Sobbing, Vanessa spread her legs further apart again as she placed her hands back on top of her head. With her skirt tucked out of the way, there was nothing to hide the full length of her privates from the rest of the class.

"Twenty," she finally whispered.

She flinched as Mr. Wilson moved the crop back up to poke at the place where her hood had slipped down again to cover her clit.

"And where will they be?" asked Mr. Wilson.

"My... my bottom," said Vanessa with tears in her eyes.

"And?" said Mr. Wilson.

"And then my clit," she whispered.

She whimpered as he pushed a little harder, and the soft lips of her vulva parted ever so slightly in response to the stimulation. Despite how much she was shaking, the telltale signs of wetness could already be seen as it leaked out onto her thighs. Another thing that would have to be corrected, if she didn't want the number of strokes to increase. One last exchange then, to fully hammer in the point.

"Now, tell me, Vanessa," said Mr. Wilson, "Why is your clit being punished today as well as your rear?"

Vanessa squirmed as she looked away. The shame of her humiliation was more than evident on her face as she struggled underneath the weight of the question.

"Because... because I keep touching myself at night," she whispered.

And there was the cause of this entire headache. For whatever reason, it always seemed to take ages for the girls to understand. Especially the ones who haven't spent as much time at the academy. The older girls knew better than to try, but the ones who had just entered always seemed to think that so long as they were careful and didn't make any noise, they would be able to get away with pleasuring themselves at night while everyone else was asleep. Of course, it was rare for them to get away with it with the proof of their wrongdoing more than evident to the caretakers who changed the sheets. The daily inspections done before class was just another way of checking.

There wasn't much to say after that as Mr. Wilson dragged the punishment bench to the front of the room, and gritting her teeth together, Vanessa stepped forward to bend over the surface as she grabbed onto the opposite edge with her hands. There was the sound of something being raised high up into the air, and she closed her eyes tightly as she tried to prepare herself for the punishment that she knew was coming next.

Smack!

"O... one!" said Vanessa.

Gritting her teeth, she stared straight ahead at the wall in front of her as the crop fell to land squarely across the center of her right buttock, and her hips jerked forward a little from the impact.

Smack!

Another blow, this time on the opposite side, and she squirmed as she tried to keep her tears from flowing down her face.

"T... two!" she said.

It wasn't until the third blow that she finally broke however, and as the crop fell down to strike directly between her cheeks, her eyes opened wide as the tip smacked hard against the tight ring of her anus just visible in between. The sound of the leather striking her flesh seemed to echo out through the room as she clenched hard against the blow, and her hips jumped upward as if moving on their own. All the air in her lungs seemed to shoot out all at once, and crying out with an empty noise, she gasped as an angry rectangle of redness appeared over the place where the crop had landed across her rear hole.

"T... three!" she gasped.

The, it only seemed to get worse from there. On and on the blows fell, landing sporadically across the flesh of her bottom and down between her legs. Even as she cried out in pain however, the rest of the class remained silent as they watched on in fear. Pausing to look back at them, Mr. Wilson made the point more than clear. It might not be them standing up here with their panties lowered to their feet, but the slightest hint of wetness was enough to call them up for their turn next.

Smack!

"Four!" said Vanessa.

Smack!

"Five!" said Vanessa.

Smack!

"Six!" said Vanessa.

Her eyes opened wide as the crop drew back again only to land directly across the length of her slit, curving downward with the momentum of the strike so that every inch of her labia was struck by the blow. And with her legs spread out to the side, there was no way for her to protect herself from the pain. Tears leaked down her face as another trickle of wetness seeped out to run down the inside of her thighs. There was no way she should have been aroused by this, but she just couldn't help it as her clit strained upward against the crushing confines of its hood.

Smack!

"Seven!" said Vanessa.

Smack!

"Eight!" said Vanessa.

Smack!

"Nine!" said Vanessa.

Smack!

"Ten!" said Vanessa.

Halfway there now, and setting the crop to the side, Mr. Wilson took a short break as she turned around and lay flat upon her back with her knees drawn up against her chest. Reaching out with a tissue, he gently tried her tears while at the same time reaching back between her legs. His fingers found the entrance of her tunnel, and she moaned as he pushed the tip ever so slightly past the entrance of her swollen lips.

"You know, this wouldn't have happened if you just kept your hands to yourself," he said.

"Please, I'm sorry," sobbed Vanessa.

"I know you are," he said softly, "But I can't stop until you learned your lesson."

Another finger moved up to touch her clit, and seeing him raise his arm up again, Vanessa closed her eyes tightly as she shook her head from side to side.

"Please, not there...," she whispered, but it was no use.

Crack!

"Aaiiiee!" she cried.

"Count, or we'll start all over again," said Mr. Wilson, raising the crop into the air.

Crack!

"Eleven!" gasped Vanessa.

Crack!

"Twelve!"

Crack!

"Thirteen!"

Just seven more blows left now, and she sobbed as she continued to hold her legs up with her arms wrapped around her knees. Every time the crop came down, she fought against the urge to reach down and protect herself as the crop struck across the length of her slit.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said over and over again in between the count of the blows. It was no use however, and she cried out again as another flash of pain raced out between her legs.

By the time they reached the last one, her head was starting to feel light, and it was getting next to impossible to think. Dimly, she was aware of Mr. Wilson standing next to her as he helped her spread her legs. Still laying on her back, she slowly she slowly brought her hands down to spread her labia apart and expose the sensitive nub of her clit. The fact that her lips had started to part during the middle of the punishment didn't help at all, and she sobbed as every inch of her virgin hole was exposed for the entire class to see. Buried just inside the opening of her tunnel, the thin membrane of her hymen could just be seen as the muscles of her legs twitched.

As the rest of the class watched on in silence, something seemed to curl up inside her and become still. It was as if nobody even dared to breath. Reaching out to brush the hair away from her face, Mr. Wilson tried to comfort her as he stood to the side.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," she whimpered.

He reached down to peel back the hood of her clit, and her whines grew even louder as he began to massage the tiny bean at the top of her slit. Despite the turmoil inside, she couldn't help but grow aroused again as he slowly brought her closer and closer to the edge of a climax. Using his other hand, he reached down to press a finger against her anus, and she gasped as it slid past the tight ring of her back hole.

"Are you going to be a good girl from now on, Vanessa?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," she said.

"Do you need any more correction?" he asked.

"No, sir," she said.

"Is there anything else you would like to say?" said Mr. Wilson.

He looked pointedly at her, and then to the rest of the class, and Vanessa blushed hard with the humiliation of what she was expected to say next.

"Please punish me for trying to... trying to..." she murmured.

A pause, as she weighed the options inside her head. Either she could remain silent and spare herself the shame, or she could say what he wanted to hear out loud in front the entire class. With the way his finger was circling her clit however, it was hard to think about anything except how much she needed a release. The pressure seemed to build up indefinitely within her, and a steady trickle of wetness seeped out from between her lips as the walls of her insides clenched down in frustration and denial. Bottled up with nowhere to go, it was as if the heat of a furnace was trapped inside.