How to Train Your Daughter Ch. 12b

He was relieved to see that she had indeed perfectly sculpted her fresh landing strip this morning as mandated in the player's handbook, and was completely smooth and bare everywhere else on her perfect little pussy, which was required for all the girls on the team.

He knew he needn't have worried; she was very mature for her age despite being a couple years younger than most of the other girls, since she had already celebrated her Festival before the Desilvas moved from Texas last month.

When the Festival system was instituted over fifty years ago, states were granted broad leeway in how they celebrated the ritual deflowering of their female young and administered their subsequent sexual educations, as there was a broad range of deep, long-standing traditions and cultural beliefs in communities across the country regarding this sacred and necessary practice.

Texas and a few other states like Mississippi and Tennessee had carried over a number of their customs from long before the inception of the Festival, and had been natural leaders in the transitional period; the region already held revered and intricate traditions of teaching their daughters to publicly embrace and cultivate their own sexual desirability from a young age through pursuits such as pageants, homecoming dances and proms, cheer, and gymnastics.

Their girls had long been raised in a patriarchal culture that had its recent roots deep in farm dirt, and so they tended to exhibit an endearingly frank understanding of their own place in the circle of life.

When a girl falls in love with the beautiful heifers and fillies that she helps raise and then, wide-eyed, watches them fulfill their purpose for the frightening power of their respective bulls and stallions, it doesn't require much imagination to see her own destiny prefigured in some way in that of her four-legged friends.

Additionally, girls in the south and other rural states were generally raised with a strong tradition of etiquette instruction and clear, non-negotiable standards for a girl's behavior and her responsibilities to men.

For these reasons southern girls were prized for being known as exceptionally skilled and pleasant to train, as they were typically both extremely beautiful and sweetly compliant, with a charming demeanor and a generous spirit that was eager to please eligible trainers, and a deeply-seated, almost genetic predisposition to loving semen.

As part of this tradition several of these states chose to structure their Festival laws around their own long-standing legislative precedents, and so girls there celebrated their Festivals a few years earlier than the girls in Stonewall.

Experienced girl handlers from other parts of the country often cultivated an appreciation for training southern girls, and it was a popular pastime to spend a few days in states like these and apply for a guest trainer's permit, which would allow an eligible man who possessed certain qualifications from out of state to train up to three local girls over the course of a forty-eight-hour period.

Shannon seemed more mature than she was because she had already celebrated her Festival, while few of her new classmates yet had. She naturally tended to hang out with the older girls with whom she shared the intimate knowledge of what it meant to fulfill their purpose for a man, and Ryan had full faith in her ability to hold her own on the soccer field.

She wasn't considered fully eligible herself, of course, since girls here celebrated their Festivals later, so she wasn't subject to the same types of training many of her friends were, but since she'd been deflowered it was essential that she receive regular penetrative stimulus to ensure she continued developing healthily until the rest of her cohort had celebrated their Festival, and she could be released along with them to the general public here.

Fathers of girls in this kind of position could choose either to have their daughters undergo weekly advanced female relaxation treatments at a nearby clinic, or, if preferable, they could submit their girls to the care of their church leadership. The Desilvas attended church regularly, so when they'd moved Ryan had selected the latter option.

Now on Sunday mornings, instead of Sunday school, a few of the elders and deacons would take Shannon and a couple other girls in similar situations aside during the service, and would teach them basic sexual techniques in the church offices, ensuring that their young vaginas stayed limber and receptive while their families sang and listened to the sermon in the sanctuary.

While the rest of the congregation partook of communion, the elders would bless the wide-eyed, obedient young girls' tongues with their own creamy, pungent sacrament, encouraging them to swallow it down and receive into their bodies this sign of the elders' benediction.

After the service, when the girls' fathers picked them up to take them home, the elders would relate what they had worked on that morning, and make any recommendations they had for homework for the men's daughters during the coming week.

Ryan was also pleasantly surprised to see, carefully soaping her impressive breasts, the delightfully full-bodied, exquisitely-curved blonde Selena Stevenson, whom he'd had the pleasure of using as a delectable naked teaching aid in a particularly engaging social studies class a couple weeks ago.

He'd selected her to volunteer in front of the class because she'd been caught whispering to her sister that she thought he was kind of cute, and it had seemed an appropriate punishment for the lack of respect she'd displayed by talking in class.

She noticed him now as well as he shaved Abigail's pussy, and she suddenly blushed deeply, forgetting her manners as he smiled at her, and crossing her leg demurely in front of her sudsy vagina in a moment of girlish embarrassment, as she recalled how he'd used her to demonstrate for the class how the judges at the Festival would inspect and grade her and her classmates when their time came.

She was the team's keeper; her thick, powerful haunches and strong upper body were perfect for her role, and she was beautiful now as her perfect skin and her heavy breasts glistened with droplets from her shower, her juicy mons complimented perfectly by her thick golden landing strip above her simple, innocent slit that ran most of the length of her mound.

Ryan had spread her open during his demonstration for the class, so he knew that those thick, perfectly sealed outer lips hid within them a delicate set of inner labia and a discrete, untouched opening, which they kept safely hidden and constantly glistening with her limpid moisture in their warm darkness, and he truly could not wait for her to celebrate her Festival so he could dive properly into that treasure.

Layla announced to her father that the team had finished their showers and was ready for inspection, and took her place at the head of the line of freshly-showered naked girls; and Coach Dave rose from where he was holding Abigail's butt cheeks apart so Ryan could shave around her anus and perineum, giving her an affectionate farewell pat on her bare bottom.

'Good to see you again, Miss Abigail; I'm sure I'll want to take you aside for a few lessons later this week,' he said. 'Mr. Desilva is a good trainer—make sure you listen to him and do your best for him if he decides to enjoy your lovely little body, alright?

His hands behind his back and his muscular chest puffed comically out, he strode like Patton from one of his girls to the next, arching his bushy brow skeptically and stroking his fiery mustache as he checked that each naked young soccer player demonstrated the discipline and attention to detail of a champion that he demanded.

Looking them up and down, he ensured that their nipples were attractively erect and stiff; tested them with the occasional question about the history of the team, the rules of soccer, or the player code of conduct; and crouched to verify with a touch, a sniff, and sometimes even a little taste, that they were properly groomed to his high standards (a single landing strip with perfectly straight and square edges, no wider than an inch and a half, terminating precisely at the end of their slit or the base of their clitoris, whichever was applicable to their particular vaginas, and exhibiting perfect smoothness everywhere else about their genitals, and cleanly shaven underarms), and that they possessed a clean, fresh, girlish scent at every point of their exquisite bodies.

Ryan had Abigail stand up and face him so he could make a final check of his work, and was happy to find that she seemed to quite like it; she couldn't stop running her fingers over the broad, lushly sculpted delta of groomed fur and the clean demarcation between her muff and the exquisite smoothness of the freshly showered and shaved skin surrounding her privates. She looked at him with delight.

'Oh, Mr. Desilva, this is so fun! I think love this—it feels so good and I think it looks super cute and sexy! Thank you so much, sir—oh my gosh, do you like it?'

She couldn't believe she'd asked that, and wished she could swallow her words, but she needn't have worried. Mr. Desilva grinned happily and gave her a pussy a gentle pat.

'I really truly do, Miss Abigail,' he said. 'I think you have just the cutest vagina, and it's even cuter now that we can see it a little better. Now how about we go get you a new uniform?'

Together they made their way back across the sunny grounds of the high school, and then up several flights of stairs and down a few labyrinthine corridors into the far reaches of the old east wing of the school building, where the storeroom was located under the gables high on the top floor.

This time Abigail walked with a bit more spring in her step and a smile on her face, far more comfortable with her nudity than before, and secretly half-hoping that her passing classmates appreciated her cute new haircut.

Behind the heavy oak door at the top of a creaking staircase was a cavernous room with rows of tall shelves containing everything a normal school might need, like paper and pens and glue, and projectors and microscopes, and cleaning supplies and spare spanking paddles and a couple of old pillories, as well as several racks of skirts and blouses on hangers, and bins of underthings arranged by size; in the corner, illuminated by the hoary sunbeams filtering from a stately stained glass window set high beneath the vaulted ceiling, a full-length dressing mirror stood covered in dust and cobwebs.

Ryan hunted about until he found a stack of Stonewall Academy student handbooks and gave one to Abigail, then cleared the cobwebs and dust from the mirror and instructed her to wait there while he gathered her uniform together, using the measurements he'd taken of her body as a guide.

High up in the abandoned storeroom, the heavy timber walls and the twinkling atoms of dust shimmering slowly through the venerable light made even the cool air feel cozy, and the vibrant laughter and chatter of students rose to the east wing only in faintly distant ghostly echoes.

Abigail began to flip through the handbook, but her attention was quickly diverted by her reflection in the mirror, and she studied her new bush carefully, admiring its striking, tantalizing contrast to her luminous skin, and hesitantly attempting a few poses she imagined to be alluring, wondering to herself whether Mr. Desilva liked her kind of body enough to want to...'train' her...as they called it here.

Ryan emerged from the shelves with his arms full of clothing and was stopped in his tracks by the beauty of the naked young girl, her curves caressed by the bejeweled rays of stained glass and by the long, burnished tresses cascading down her bare back as she twisted and arched before the mirror, unaware of his presence and absorbed in the innocent contemplation of her own quiet, ethereal grace.

He could have watched her for hours—days, even—but Principal Darger was waiting to inspect her, so he regretfully cleared his throat with a discreet cough and stepped from the cover of the shelves.

Abigail, flustered, sprang stiffly to attention for a comical instant before changing course and trying to pretend she was deeply engrossed in her student handbook, and had been the whole time.

'...and I think these should fit just right,' Ryan said, as if he had been in mid-conversation and had seen nothing, 'Why don't you turn to chapter two, on the dress code, and read me the first paragraph, and we can go over each part of your uniform together?'

Abigail complied, and as Ryan handed her a pair of plain white panties, her clear, soft voice filled the quiet space.

'In keeping with the usual custom that girls should wear the minimum amount of clothing necessary for any given situation, and that whatever they wear should serve to showcase the assets of their young bodies, rather than conceal them, the Stonewall Academy has clear guidelines of dress, grooming, and general appearance meant to help in the acculturation of young girls in preparation for the Festival.'

Ryan knelt in front of her as she read, and helped her step carefully into the panties, which he then drew slowly up her creamy thighs.

Abigail was a little shaken; as aroused as she'd gotten while undressing for Mr. Desilva this morning, she understood, at least in theory, why that might happen. She was utterly unprepared for the vehemence of the warm tingly flush that filled her tummy once again as he now pulled the silky sheer fabric across her hips and enclosed her vagina in her new underwear; how on earth was she being made so wet by putting ON clothing?

Ryan, hearing her pause, looked up to see her shimmering eyes wide with unspoken question, her lips parted and her breath suddenly halting. He smiled.

'Please, continue, Miss Abigail.'

Her voice catching just a little in the back of her throat with the force of her wildering and unspoken want for her teacher, Abigail found her place in the handbook.

'Panties...ahem...I'm sorry, sir...panties must be worn daily. They shall be clean at all times and are subject to spot checks by teaching staff at their discretion. Panties found to be in violation of any rules set forth herein may be removed by the inspecting faculty member and confiscated until the end of the school day, and the schoolgirl in question will continue her classes without panties.

'Panties shall be constructed only from white, unpatterned fabric of a sheerness sufficient that most details of the student's vulva (including, but not limited to, inner or outer labia, clitoral hood and clitoris, and pubic hair) can be easily ascertained by a casual observer, and shall be either bikini briefs or boy-shorts.'

Abigail gasped as Mr. Desilva's hands carefully fitted her new panties to her body, tugging them up tightly and ensuring her gusset conformed perfectly to her cunny, even gently pressing the insubstantial fabric into the long depression of her slit, so that every contour of her juicy vulva was discernible in relief in addition to being clearly visible beneath the nearly transparent fabric.

'Miss Abigail, your vulva looks utterly delightful in these. When you wear them, make sure to pull them up high just like this, understood?'

Mr. Desilva directed her attention to the mirror to make sure she understood how her panties were meant to be worn, and she blushed again as she beheld the striking image of an uncertain young girl's naked body glowing in the sepia light and covered only in merest principle by a diaphanous scrap of fabric, beside the kneeling figure of her dark-haired teacher as he dutifully prepared her to be the excellent and desirable student she was meant to be.

Ryan rose and handed her a white bra. Abigail was confused as she tried to put it on, and thought first that she somehow had it backwards or upside down; then perhaps that it was torn, or that Mr. Desilva had accidentally selected a size many times too small for her; and she looked at him quizzically.

He chuckled; she'd evidently never seen a half-cup balconette, and he helped her put it on properly, her nipples poking out into the room over the tops of the absurdly small cups, and she laughed in disbelief that this was part of her official school uniform.

Ryan simply gestured to the handbook between her fingers, and played lightly with her nipples while she read aloud, the growing astonishment in her voice competing with the growing arousal in her loins as Mr. Desilva illustrated the lessons of the passage with gentle caresses of his warm hands on her own little pink nubs.

'Stonewall Academy places great importance on the engagement and energy of its student body, and there is little clearer a sign of a good schoolgirl's attentive and alert attitude than clearly erect and pert nipples.

'In addition, studies have shown that while engaged in the often arduous and thankless job of pedagogy, faculty morale is incalculably raised by the regular sight throughout the school day of the excited and invitingly erect nipples of the schoolgirls under their tutelage, resulting in more stimulating and imaginative lessons for those girls.

'Therefore, half-cup shelf bras shall be worn while on campus, which provide some support while ensuring the student's nipples are in direct contact with her blouse, the combination of the constant stimulation of the light cloth and the freely-circulating air having been designed to keep her nipples erect and visible through her blouse for most of the day.

'Erect nipples are considered important enough, however, that they are not to be left to the vagaries of atmospheric chance; if climate and clothing conditions prove to be insufficient to generate the desired effect, the student is expected to take the initiative and do whatever is necessary to keep her nipples in a firm and alert state.

'As with her panties, a student's bra and the state of her nipples are also subject to inspection without notice; confiscation of the undergarment may result if any breaches in regulations are determined, and the student will continue her day without a bra.'

Ryan stepped aside so Abigail could see herself in the mirror again, and she marveled at how her nipples and her large areolas were perched happily above her bra, her lovely luminescent skin refracting the sunlight until her nipples seemed almost to glow. She looked so...beautiful...she thought.

She read that she would also be required to forfeit her skirt and blouse if they did not meet standards, and the handbook contained a strongly worded warning that she could in theory be forced, if she were to to be a truly worst-case student and fail every part of a uniform inspection, to wind up spending the entire day, and attend every class, completely naked.

For some reason—she couldn't quite put her finger on why—this occurred to her as rather less of a surprise now than if she had read it this morning, or perhaps last week when she'd enrolled in the administration office with her father.

Because a significant purpose of their education was to introduce them to the concept of public access to their sex and normalize it, a big first step was getting young girls accustomed to having their private parts available for the visual enjoyment of others, and so they were discouraged from attempting to avoid momentary, incidental exposures of the sort that might be caused by a frisky gust of wind or the act of bending over to retrieve something from the ground. These became simply part of life and not a cause of alarm or shame.

Of course, a student undergoing punishment for violating part or all of the uniform regulations was offering more than just a glimpse of her fun bits—and regardless of how many pieces of clothing she may have had confiscated, she was expected to conduct herself normally for the rest of the day.