Laura Ch. 08

An important part of enjoying the experience of being a naked sex slave is having an owner who knows what the hell they are doing.

I wasn't thinking about that at first, but I was learning.

Despite her lack of experience, Lexis was doing a superb job when it came to supervising me, evaluating my responses to external stimuli and understanding the inner workings of her slave. When our friend Beth came over, there was a huge jump in my sexual arousal. Lexis observed how I acted differently when Beth was around, and rather than simply becoming jealous, she decided to follow up, to find out what was going on inside my head.

Beth treated me like I was still a high school student. She would quiz me on my knowledge of American and European history, and she would punish me if I didn't do well. It was astonishingly potent stuff for me. Being told to do better by a stern, demanding schoolteacher and suffering consequences for my failures overwhelmed me with a tidal wave of emotions, making it hard for me sometimes even to breathe.

I couldn't deny it, not to myself. I was twenty-two years old, but I wanted to be treated like a naughty schoolgirl. I wanted to be given homework and forced to take quizzes and punished if I didn't learn the assigned material.

But it felt too weird to talk about, so I tried to stonewall my sister, tried to get her to leave it alone. She wasn't having any of that. Lexis knew how to extract answers, no matter how confusing and embarrassing they might be.

"Up against the wall," Lexis demanded. "Assume the police search pose."

I turned and faced the wall. I leaned forward, lifting my arms and pressing my palms against the vertical surface in front of me, balancing on the balls of my feet with my ankles as far apart as my shoulders. It was a pose that already made me feel painfully exposed and vulnerable.

"Feet further back and wider," Lexis snapped. I adjusted my position, and felt even more shamefully exposed.

My sister slapped me hard on the ass.

"Wider than that."

I whimpered as I repositioned myself again. I made myself as agonizingly vulnerable as I possibly could. Naturally, I assumed that my sister intended to whip me until I finally surrendered and told her all the embarrassing details. My legs trembled as I held them obscenely far apart and waited for the sting of the whip.

The tone of her voice and her stern attitude commanded instant obedience and distracted me from the fact that she wasn't holding a whip, or a leather strap, or any sort of punishment implement. Instead of the sting of leather across my bare buttocks, I felt Lexis's fingertips stroking my swollen pubic lips.

"It's been a while since you've had an orgasm, hasn't it?" she purred in my ear. "I'd be willing to bet your pussy is starving for some attention."

I tried to say something in response, but my throat constricted, and my vocal cords just didn't seem to work. I opened my mouth to speak, but all that came out was a raw moan.

My legs wobbled. I tensed up, clenching my buttocks as Lexis worked two of her fingers into my pussy. She probed my wet, throbbing sex, searching for responsive nerve endings. Within seconds she had me squirming and making inarticulate vowel noises.

"Oooooh, Uuhhhhhh, Aaaahhhh."

"This is fun," Lexis said cheerfully as she pumped her fingers in and out of me. "I could do this for hours!"

My body soon became feverish, overheated and overstimulated. My sister's fingers probed deep into my vaginal cleft and another agonizing wave of desire passed through me, making my legs twitch, my nipples swell with heat. I whimpered and panted as Lexis's fingers explored my sensitive interior and my poor sex throbbed again with hungry spasms.

I could feel her fingers inside of me, exploring my moist interior. They delved deep and her fingertips prodded, searching for areas that were especially sensitive or receptive to being touched. Every time she found a spot that was sufficiently sensitive, I would moan and whimper and struggle to hold myself in the position she had ordered.

She smeared the wetness over my mound, then felt me from front to back, parting my labia, moving a finger along the moistened cleft. Then, in a throaty purr, she announced, "you're soaking wet."

My voice was weak and shaky, but I somehow managed to reply, "Yes, mistress."

Naked, with my legs spread obscenely far apart, and my sister impaling me deep with her strong, forceful fingers, I felt completely helpless and vulnerable. My clit was so hard and swollen that it ached, and my loins were feverish and throbbing with an urgency that bordered on frantic.

Lexis penetrated me with her fingers, over and over. She'd start with just one, then two, then three fingers. My legs trembled as I felt a powerful orgasm building inside of me and then she'd pull out. She'd withdraw her fingers from my sopping wet hole and move further back, brushing her fingers across my perineum, smearing my juices against my exposed anus.

"Want me to go back to playing with your pussy?" Lexis asked. "Want me to make you cum?"

I couldn't seem to get my voice to work, so I nodded my head vigorously to indicate my desire for an orgasm.

"You have the power to make it happen," my mistress whispered softly in my ear. "Just tell me what gets you so hot and bothered every time Beth comes over. Do you have a crush on her?"

I inhaled deeply. My throat felt tight, but I needed to get words out if I was going to end this erotic suffering.

"Not exactly," I replied, my voice strained.

I took a few more deep breaths, trembling as another agonizing wave of desire passed through me, and got the words to flow. "Back in high school the teachers let me get away with being lazy and irresponsible. I guess having rich parents made them afraid of me."

There was another long pause as the strain in my inner thigh muscles almost caused my legs to buckle. Once I regained my composure I continued, "I never gave it much thought before but when Beth quizzes me on stuff I was taught back in high school and punishes me for doing poorly, it's like I'm back in school. And it's...It's like I'm being punished by every teacher I ever had for being lazy and not giving a damn about my studies."

Lexis rubbed her fingers up and down my pink slit. Then took hold of one of my swollen, sensitive pubic lips, pinched it cruelly and said, "Seriously? That's what's been getting you so turned on?"

I gasped, shuddered, and nodded my head in agreement.

"Call it a penance fetish," I said through clenched teeth. "My psychiatrist said that my problems stem from deep seated feelings of guilt. With Beth acting as an avatar for every teacher I've ever wronged I can finally do penance for years of being a horrible student."

My sister took her hand away from my crotch and whispered, "So, you don't just crave punishments. You crave punishments for very real offenses that you committed while enjoying a life of privilege...like being a disrespectful and lazy schoolgirl."

"Some of my feelings of guilt have been buried extremely deep," I admitted. "I didn't even realize that I felt so bad about being a crappy student until Beth started punishing me for it."

Lexis didn't make fun of me for having a desire to be treated like a naughty schoolgirl. After my admission, she understood that the more I felt I deserved punishment, the more intense my emotions would be when that punishment was meted out. Clearly, I was carrying around the crushing weight of accumulated guilt for years of being lazy and disrespectful to my teachers in high school.

"I suppose you've held up your end of our agreement," Lexis allowed. "It will take some time to put this information to good use, but in the meantime, you've told me everything I wanted to know."

Having said that, Lexis placed her hand once more between my widespread thighs. Her fingers slid across my slick labia and clitoris, making me whimper as she played with me. I bit my lower lip and tried not to cry out like a libidinous slut.

I failed.

My sister's fingers moved aggressively inside my pussy. The sensations were overwhelming, and I began to pant.

"Aghhhhhh...Ah, ah, ah!"

Spasms echoed through my body. I moved my hips erratically. I jerked and jerked again, at least a dozen times more on the way to my climax. My desperate panting became frantic, libidinous screaming.

"Aahhh! Aaahhh! Aaaahhhh! AAAAAHHHHH!"

And within seconds a long rolling finish commenced, my pussy tightened and relaxed, tightened and relaxed again, until I languished into a gentle, unthinking calm.

* * *

Lexis had hinted that she would use the information she had learned about my penance fetish to effective use, but as the days went by, she didn't mention it again and my life as her slave seemed to return to established norms. At some point I just assumed that my sister had lost interest in exploiting my feelings of guilt for being a naughty schoolgirl.

Yeah. As you may have guessed, my assumption was wrong.

Lexis put a lot of money and effort into Project Naughty Schoolgirl. She just kept the details from me until she was ready to fully immerse me into it.

One morning, when I was down in the laundry room doing menial chores, Lexis sauntered in and announced, "Time for you to get dressed, slave girl. You and I are going on an adventure."

Lexis refused to elaborate; she was very cryptic. She just told me to get dressed and get in the car. The clothing she handed me should have given me a clue. She made me dress like a Catholic schoolgirl. Okay, the skirt was a little bit short for a Catholic school dress code, but the skirt was pleated and plaid, there was a button-down shirt, saddle shoes and white socks.

Lexis put her arm around me and walked me to the car. I sat in the passenger seat while she drove. She didn't tell me where we were going, but she was positively bouncy with excitement. The look on her face was one of fanatical delight. Whatever she was planning, it was going to be something extraordinarily good for her or extraordinarily bad for me...likely both.

She got on the highway and the smile on her face intensified with every mile. We ended up in Stonebridge, passing several churches and strip malls before entering the parking lot of a school.

"Ms. Porter's school for girls?" I asked, reading the brass plaque near the main entrance. "This is where you wanted to go?"

"Oh, yeah," my sister replied with ardent enthusiasm. "This is going to be so much fun. Wait until you see."

I was too confused to be swept up in my sister's enthusiasm, but I followed her obediently as she walked across the parking lot and into the school.

My sister's high heels clicked on the tile floor as she led me through the halls. The school seemed conspicuously empty, and I wondered what that signified.

Resorting to cliché, I turned to my sister and said, "It's quiet in here, too quiet."

"School's not in session yet," my sister replied cryptically.

She escorted me to the headmistress's office and opened the door, gesturing for me to enter first.

"You look cute in that schoolgirl uniform," my sister remarked as I walked in front of her. "I should have bought you something like that to wear years ago."

I had a smartass comment on the tip of my tongue, but before I could verbalize my reply, I was taken aback by the sight of two of my friends, Beth and Riki, seated in upholstered chairs in front of an impressively large mahogany desk.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my gaze shifting from Beth to Riki, then back to Beth, and I asked, "Guys? What's going on here?"

From behind me, my sister responded, "This used to be Stonebridge High School. It was shut down back in 2019 for political reasons...or financial reasons...possibly both. At any rate, I bought the school and the 20 acres of land that the schoolhouse sits on and I'm re-opening it as Ms. Porter's school for girls."

"Riki and I are her first employees," Beth volunteered. "I'll be teaching history. Riki will be teaching physical fitness."

"You bought a school?" I said, turning to face my sister, my mouth agape. To me, this seemed like the most insane thing my sister had ever done. "Why?"

"Remember how Ms. Cheval refused to train you as a pony slave?" Lexis asked. "Since that bitch refused to let you play lesbian femdom games on her pony farm, I decided to create my own fun."

Realization slowly dawned on me.

"You bought all this just to play kinky lesbian dominance and submission games?" I asked as I waved my arms around, gesturing at Beth, Riki and the school in general. California real estate was expensive. Lexis must have spent millions of dollars to purchase all this, twenty acres of land, the schoolhouse, not to mention the cost of insurance, paying to keep the lights on and the teacher's salaries. It boggled my mind that anyone would do that just for kinky role-playing.

"Don't think of it as buying," Lexis replied, a smirk on her face. "Think of it as investing. You're the school's first student, but you won't be the last. I've begun spreading the word in the lesbian BDSM community about this place and I expect to have more students enrolling soon...and tuition will be very expensive."

"So...you're saying this school could make a profit?" I asked incredulously.

"Why not? Ms. Cheval's pony farm makes a profit."

I got the idea. By charging wealthy women in the lesbian BDSM community a fee to live out their fantasies, Lexis could eventually recover the money that she spent when she bought this school. She'd need a large customer base, but with enough time and the proper marketing, it could be done.

I raised my eyebrows at Lexis and inquired, "So, have you lined up any paying students yet?"

"Never mind about that," my sister said playfully. "I'll look after the business side of things. You just try to be a good student and stay out of trouble."

"Lexis has given us permission to punish you if you're lazy or disobedient," Beth added. "We're going to be very stern, demanding teachers, so you're going to have to work hard."

"A lot harder than you ever did at Goodwin Knight high school," Riki insisted. "I'm going to ride you hard. And from now on you need to address me as Ms. Lindhome. You'll be punished if you address me by first name. It's considered a sign of disrespect if students get too familiar with your teachers."

"Same here," Beth said assertively. "It's Ms. York, or else I'll have to punish you, too."

My head was reeling. Was this really happening? To be a student in a school where stern, demanding teachers could punish you for slacking off or not showing the proper amount of respect sounded like some of the more potent wet dreams I'd had. I truly had been a lazy and unmotivated student at Goodwin Knight High, and I recently discovered that I had hidden feelings of guilt about that. The idea of going back to school and having strict teachers who wouldn't tolerate my laziness made my pussy throb.

* * *

Since Lexis didn't want the Sterling name to be associated with the kinky school she founded, I had to attend the school under an assumed name. As far as the other students were concerned, my name was Jody Banks.

Lexis used a fake name as well. She was Emma Porter, the headmistress. I had voiced my doubts about that. Lexis and I were identical twins. Wouldn't that bring up awkward, uncomfortable questions that we couldn't answer?

It turned out Lexis had a plan for that. With Beth's help, she was able to significantly change her appearance. She pinned her hair back into a bun, wiped off all her makeup, put on some nerdy glasses, a bulky cardigan sweater and a few other miscellaneous items and suddenly she looked older and matronly. It was a complete transformation.

"I shall brook no disobedience, young lady," she said in a stuffy, no-nonsense voice that made her also sound twenty years older. I don't think our own mother would have recognized her.

* * *

In an effort to attract students to her school, my sister invited dozens of wealthy women to an event where I would be trotted out and exhibited.

The plan was to put on a grand spectacle on the athletic field, with me naked, and Ms. Lindhome, the new physical fitness teacher, appropriately dressed and wielding a riding crop. She would put me through my paces while dozens of wealthy spectators watched.

The assemblage of interested onlookers gazing at me made me feel more naked than naked. All those eyes fixating on my naked body at once made my heart pound urgently in my chest and sent a surge of shameful excitement through my body.

"Lots of wealthy, young women crave discipline, structure and a merciless overseer who won't allow them to slack off," Ms. Lindhome proclaimed, addressing the smartly dressed audience. "Many of them never realize this. They've spent their entire lives being pampered and lazy, they become convinced that's all they're good for."

While Ms. Lindhome gave her speech, I stood there maintaining excellent posture with my chin up, my shoulders back, chest out, spine ramrod straight and my wrists crossed behind my back.

The crowd of clothed spectators stared at me, making me feel ever more naked and exposed. It seemed outrageous to have my naked breasts and shaved pubes subjected to such scrutiny. It made me feel nervous and degraded to be sexually objectified by so many people; however, it also made me feverish with sexual excitement. Fluids were leaking from between my swollen pubic lips. If any of these women were to step closer, they would surely see the evidence of my sexual arousal, and that thought excited me even more.

"This is Jody," Ms. Lindhome continued. "She grew up in a household where her parents spoiled her rotten. They bought her designer clothes, expensive jewelry, cars, trips to Paris and Milan. They assumed that money and material things would make her happy and fulfilled."

Ms. Lindhome paused as the crowd made comments to each other. It sounded as if some of them were relating to the story of Jody, the spoiled brat.

"Jody was never expected to accomplish anything and so she never did. She traveled, she partied, and she indulged herself. She was fat and lazy and unaccomplished. After eight weeks with me, she lost thirty-six pounds, gained impressive muscle tone, endurance, and flexibility. I pushed her to make something of herself and she did. If your daughters are pushed and challenged and disciplined, they too can accomplish impressive things!"

I was a success story. Ms. Lindhome sang my praises, telling the assembled ladies of my impressive glutes, abs, obliques, legs and my slender waist. Then she added that as her student, I would continue to be pushed to attain even greater physical accomplishments.

Some of the things she told the crowd were bullshit. Aside from my name not being Jody, I had never been fat. Then again, much of what she said was true. I did grow up in a wealthy household, and my parents basically bought me anything I wanted. They never pushed me to study, get good grades or accomplish anything. It wasn't until I embraced my submissive side that I was ever required to work hard.

"Let me demonstrate".

Ms. Lindhome smacked me on the ass and called out, "Jody! Wheel pose!"

Jody and I had practiced this pose before. I was to position myself face up with my hands and feet on the ground, my back bowed inward, my hips and torso raised high, my arms straight and my legs spread wide for balance.

It required me to stretch the entire front of my body and I had to make intense demands on my arms, abdomen and my back to hold myself in place. The longer I remained in that position, the more of a strain it put on my muscles.

Of course, Ms. Lindhome wanted to impress her audience, so she went a step further. She stood over me with her riding crop and smacked the crop across my taut belly. She didn't swing hard, but she didn't have to. A riding crop can cause pain even with a moderate amount of force behind it.