Saint Ursula's Finishing School

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Transcript concerning treatment of students at St. Ursula's.
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Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.

*****

The following is a work of fiction and is in no way meant to represent real people or events. It is completely written and owned by me, OfStarsAndDreams.

>>>> My erotic stories are generally written on behalf of others and do not necessarily reflect my own interests, fetishes, or personal history. <<<<

M/f F/f. Schoolgirls, interview, grooming, training, soft slavery/purchase of women, non-consent, rules/ritual, underwear/underwear removal, body examination, forced nudity/forced exhibitionism, corporal punishment, sadism (M/F on f), public humiliation, crying, restrictions, clothing/behavior control, removal of privacy, exposure to the elements, public viewing, being masturbated to (M toward f), false accusation/punishment, public punishment, exposure to peers, broadcasting sex acts, stripping, sex lessons, free use, sex toys, anal, oral, anal (M/F/f on f), forced toy use on self, group sex, begging, forced orgasms, sex as punishment, anal creampie, preservation of purity, gang rape, soft mention vaginal sex/loss of virginity (M/F on f), abandonment, video recording of sex acts, sale/exchange of recordings

Let's begin!

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[The following is transcribed from an audio recording]

Ok, I've started the recording. This is officer John Bryant of the Fairview City Police Department. I am here as part of an investigation into the reports of abuse at Saint Ursula's Finishing School for Fine Young Girls, an institution within the city's jurisdiction. I am here with one of the students who agreed to speak with us. Can you say your name for the record please?

Oh, hello, yes. My name is [redacted]. I am 18 years old.

And you attended Saint Ursula's, Ms. [redacted]?

Yes, but only for about a year and a half now. That's why I can still recognize that what happened there is wrong. They hadn't broken me down yet.

So to clarify, how old were you when you started attending classes there? How did this happen?

I was seventeen. My dad was an investment banker but his company was dissolved because of a lawsuit. He ended up losing a lot of money. I think the school reached out to him about their scholarship program? Or maybe one of his friends from the firm did. Actually, I'm fairly sure one of his friend's put me up to it. The creepy handsy one. Oh, I'm sorry, please don't tell anyone I said that. Please?

It's fine, this is for the department only. Can you tell us a bit about Saint Ursula's, in your own words?

Well, everyone basically knew it was just a school to train girls to be good trophy wives. It wasn't really a secret. They were either rich girls that were probably going to be married off as part of a business deal, or poor girls there on supposed scholarships whose parents dropped them off with the hopes that they'd marry into big money. Some of the girls were even really into that. The scholarships were covered by funds from what the faculty called private donors but were actually the prospective husbands of the girls who attended. The girls could attend from the age of fifteen, but the... the real abuse didn't really happen until their eighteenth birthday. Before that they might get hit with like, a switch on the knuckles, or have their ears boxed, but it was mostly just... the programming in the early years. To make them pliable for what came after.

After they turned eighteen you mean?

Yes. On the midnight of their eighteenth birthday they were woken up from their dorms and moved to a separate set of facilities on the campus and assigned to new rooms. The older and younger students never saw each other, not even in passing.

So what changed, after they moved to the new buildings?

I mean, everything. It was completely different.

Okay, let me ask this then, how did your average day at Saint Ursula's go? After you turned eighteen?

Well, we'd all wake up and get ready for classes, just like in the lower grades. Then we'd go to our first class of the day and line up outside for the underwear checks.

Underwear checks?

Yes. Underwear checks. Our uniforms were inspected first to make sure we have no visible panty lines or any straps showing through, that everything was in order, all regulation measurements. Then we'd step on a scale to make sure we were within the acceptable weight range. After that we'd... we were made to lift our shirts up over our tits, and our skirts up over our pussies. Oh, I'm sorry, I mean breasts. That's... what we were taught to call them, officer. I know it's... vulgar and rude.

It's fine, use whatever words you are comfortable with. So they made you show them your underwear?

Yes, to make sure they matched and that we didn't have any visible tanlines. It was mandatory that our underwear always matched, bra and panties, and that it was pleasing to look at. Well, sexy, basically. They would actually talk about how sexy they were, make comments about our bodies. The staff I mean. The disciplinary committee and the teachers. While we were all lined up like that, exposed. They really drug it out so we had to just keep standing there, raising our clothes, skirt in one hand, shirt in the other. Like, oh look at how perky your tits are today, Samantha, or oh I love the way I can see a camel toe in those lace bikini briefs, Juliette. It was really embarrassing. I hated it, every single day it was like that and I hated it. I wanted to curl up in a corner and just disappear. And if they didn't match we were punished.

How were you punished?

We had to take them off. I remember when it first happened, since no one had told me they had to match yet. I was made to strip and then lean up with this one other girl against the main windows in the hall. We were facing the wall with our bare asses sticking out. I remember that my breasts were squished up against the window because it was cold, and I was so upset that someone would see me. Then one of the discipline teachers, Mrs. [redacted] I think it was, took a wooden paddle and spanked our asses. I think it was ten swats each. I remember crying. I got five more swats for crying, too. I don't know why. The other girl was crying too, but she didn't get hit more! Another time I ordered a matched set but the discipline proctor didn't believe they were matching because they were more complimentary then paired and still made me strip and take the paddling! It was so unfair! After then I had to walk to class with my shirt pulled up like that so that my tits were all hanging out. And I couldn't cover up since we were always made to walk with our hands on our heads.

*You were made to walk with your hands on your head?*

We always walked like that, everywhere we went. They said it was for posture training. That's also why we didn't have desks. So we would develop a beautiful straight stance and lady-like decorum. We'd have to stand the whole day. We weren't allowed to go anywhere on our own, not even the bathrooms, and we would be walked from class to class by a member of the disciplinary committee. If we had to stop for any reason we were told to all face the wall. Sometimes when they stopped us they would check the length of our skirts with doggy drills.

Who would stop you? This disciplinary committee you've mentioned? And what's a doggy drill?

Doggy drills were when we were made to get down on the ground and put our asses up in the air. Like when you perform doggy-style sex. If our skirts were too long you wouldn't be able to see our pussies and panties and we'd get demerits. When standing the ends of our skirts were supposed to be level with the bottom of our ass cheeks, so when we bent over like that they'd lift up and anyone walking by would be able to see, well, everything down there. Sometimes they... made us all... lower our panties too so make sure everything was neat and tidy and in order. Pussy inspections always took ages, just... bent over in the hall like that, on display, waiting for it to be over. And yes, it was usually the committee member walking us who made us do them, but also any member of the staff could stop us at any time. There were quite a number of times when one of the staff saw us walking by and asked us to drill. Then he would ask one of the girls - usually me honestly - to go to the office for further disciplinary action.

So, stepping back a second, you mentioned tan lines?

Yes, about once a week we'd have mandatory tanning sessions in the courtyard. We were made to all strip naked and lay out on these mats. We had to spread our legs in these sort of yoga positions to make sure everything was evenly tanned. We sort of made this ring around the punishment pole. I always felt super weird about it because it wasn't very far from the fences. I know there were trees and bushes and stuff around the school property, but like, anyone walking by would be able to see us all naked out there. I know for a fact that there were people watching us sometimes.

Punishment pole?

Yeah, it was like this stone column in the middle of the courtyard with rings around the top. When girls did something really bad they had to strip down - so they wouldn't get any tan lines, right - and then they were chained to the punishment pole. You could see the courtyard from any building in the school. I got chained up there are a few times. That's how I know people used to watch us. Once I saw a guy masturbating on the other side of the fence. I couldn't hide my body or do anything about it, since I was chained to the pole and couldn't move to hide behind it. He must have been out there, God, at least half an hour, just jerking off, watching me, then he finished and left. I don't even know who he was. The worst time with the pole though was when they told me my hair was mussy, even though it wasn't, and they stripped me in the courtyard and shoved my face into the mud over and over and over. Then they chained me to the pole and whipped my ass with a switch. I cried and pleaded, told them it wasn't messy, that I did everything right, but then they just... whipped me more and told me not to talk back to them. They left me out there all day and I missed all my meals. It was one of the few times I was thankful we didn't have desks. I wouldn't have been able to sit down for days.

Were these punishments common?

Yes. I got punished all the time.

Tell me more about that, please.

Any time anyone messed up at all they would punish you. Except it wasn't really predictable. Sometimes I got punished for not answering a question right, or maybe looking out the window or not standing up straight, or any time I spoke poorly by using "um" or "er". It always seemed random and made up. If it wasn't a big infraction the discipline member watching over the class at the time would force the student being punished to go to the front of the classroom where there was this podium with straps on the sides. You'd have to lift your skirt and lean over it and grab the straps, like a little girl getting a spanking. Then they would whip you, or use a paddle or whatever on you. Sometimes they'd make you lean over backwards on the podium and they'd whip your breasts instead. That was usually for bra related demerits. Though Mr. [redacted] used to make me take my panties off and lean back like that with my legs spread a lot because he claimed I wasn't standing up straight. I really was though! None of the other girls got treated like that. He made me stay like that, with my pussy front and center, showing it to the whole class. When we did our anatomy lessons he always used me, and he'd leave me like that the whole time, projecting my pussy up on the wall with his cellphone and pointing out the parts. He even used a speculum on me to show the inside bits. I was mortified. I started to cry and he called me a baby and used a paddle on my tits in front of everyone while the projection was still going.

What about if it was a bigger infraction?

Then we would get sent to the office. I hated getting sent to the office. I was always so scared. I hated it, I never got used to it. It made me feel so dirty and used and disgusting. I tried and tried not to get sent to the office, to be a good little girl, but they kept sending me! When they sent me they... made me strip off my top and my bra then they wrote up the disciplinary notice and put it in this sign they hung around my neck. You had to walk past the big windows and all the open doors. There were no closed doors on campus, not even in the bathrooms, everything was open. I don't know why they always sent me. I feel like the teachers were picking on me. But I never did anything! I don't know why they kept picking on me, I was so good to everyone. I tried so hard to be good! I would try not to cry on the way there because I would get demerits for ruining my makeup, but I always cried every time. I couldn't help it! When I got there they would put me in front of this video camera. They would broadcast it to the whole school, you see, as an example and a learning tool. They made me raise up my skirt and strip off my panties in front of the camera. Then they would make me tell them what I did wrong, and beg to be forgiven. They... they made me say such awful things about myself. Like... like how I was... worthless and pathetic and deserved to be kicked and put outside like a dog and sleep in the gutter and I was a bad girl and would make a horrible wife and I deserved to get raped every night in a whore house and how I was disgracing and spitting on the education they were given me. Then they would make me lean against the bar and they'd spank me and whip me and spit on me and call me names. I couldn't stop crying. Then they'd use me for... lesson demonstrations.

What do you mean by that? Lesson demonstrations?

Okay, so after regular classes we'd have special evening classes. In those lessons we were taught how to be good wives for our husbands. We would have lessons on... proper dick sucking and ass fucking techniques. We'd all be taken from their dorms into large rooms, sort of like gyms. We'd use toys and team up with partners. They taught us things like how to deep throat. You'd get bad marks if you gagged, or even get punished. When you were punished they'd sometimes make the other girls practice on you up in the front of the class. But in the disciplinary office a member of the disciplinary committee, or sometimes multiple members, would do it instead.

You mean use sex toys on you?

No, no, they'd...

What did they do? It's okay, it's safe here. You can talk to me.

They'd actually... fuck our asses.

Okay. I see. I know this is difficult for you, but can you please tell me about one of the times you experienced this, in as much detail as possible? Maybe the first time?

Well, the first time I got sent in was right after my birthday. It was... because one of my laces had come undone. So they made me go to the office. They didn't make me strip for the walk, not that time. I remember. When I got in they put me in front of the camera. Mr. [redacted] told me I was a horrible example and that they should by all rights expel me. He said that instead they'd teach me a lesson. He made me strip down in front of the camera and... show off... my body. They... touched my tits and made me... spread my pussy for the camera. They asked if I'd had my first anal lessons yet. I didn't know what they meant. So they said I'd be having my first one right there. They made me sit down on this thing that looked kind of like a saddle, but they could turn it on, make it vibrate. You know... between my legs. Then they took this glass rod and they... I... I'm sorry, I can't...

Go on. What did they do with the rod?

This is so... embarrassing for some reason. Having to say it like this, I mean. In front of you. They... lubed it up and put it in my ass. They teased me with just the tip at first, made a big production out of it. And then they put it inside me. I could feel it go in. Every inch of it. It was so cold. I remember crying, begging them not to do it. Instead they just teased me and told me if I couldn't shut up they'd plug the other side too. They did that sometimes, too, actually. Ball gags... and worse. Sometimes they'd make it combination anal and blow job practice. They... sorry, this is getting hard to say...

It's okay, you're doing great.

They made me use it on myself, fuck my ass in front of the camera, with my own hand. I remember I could barely do it, I was shaking, so they... they grabbed my hands and made me do it. They made me. I didn't want to. They made me say what I was doing out loud. That I was... a slut fucking my ass for the first time. Fucking my ass on camera. Then Mr. [redacted] took the rod away and took off his pants. Then he... put his cock inside me. I still remember how it felt. I wasn't used to it yet so it hurt. I felt myself stretching out. I thought I was going to die, not because it hurt that bad, but because I was so ashamed, on display like that, taking it... taking his cock in my ass. He fucked me on camera while he told me...

What did he tell you?

How naughty and in need of punishment I was. How this was how good little girls pleased their superiors. He made me thank him for...

For what?

Do you really need me to say that?

Please, for the investigation. Everything helps.

He made me... thank him for popping my anal cherry. Of course I did it. Said it, I mean I hate myself for saying those things but I couldn't stop myself. I had to or they'd punish me worse. I can't believe I'm saying this. I felt like... I couldn't control my body after a while. All I could think about was his... cock, going in and out of me, fucking my asshole. And how the saddle was pushed up against my clit. Every time he pushed his cock in I could feel the saddle on my clit. God. I could feel him getting bigger inside me. I remember how hot it felt when he came inside me. I was mortified and felt so ashamed of myself. He made me walk back to class without cleaning up first. I felt it seeping into my panties. Can you... not tell anyone I said that? I'm not actually a... a slut. Really. I didn't like it. Really. It was just my body doing things on it's own.

I don't think you're a slut. Did this happen often?

All the time. Like I said, I think the teachers hated me. I tried my hardest but I guess I just wasn't a very good student. I got public anal lessons and beatings more times than I can even count. Multiple times a day. I felt like the committee's... personal fuck toy. I don't think there's a single member of the staff working there, male or female, who hasn't fucked my ass and mouth. The women... they... used to do it with strap ons. They were old enough to be my mom and in some ways they were worse than the men. They made me feel so used. Like I was a... piece of meat. The men often enough just wanted to get off but the women liked to humiliate me. Make me call myself names, say things like... like... I'm mommy's good little whore. Please fuck my slutty little ass. But I had to. What else could I do? I couldn't leave. And.. sometimes they'd make me... do things. To their, you know...

Their what?

Nevermind. I don't want to say it. I'm too embarrassed. It doesn't have to be recorded.

No, please, it's alright. You can tell me. Do things to their what?

You know. Pussies. You... don't think that makes me a lesbian do you?

I don't think that it does.

I remember one night when all the girls that didn't get adequate marks were woken up and taken to the office and put in front of the disciplinary squad. I don't know why I was taken, I always had good marks. I did! I don't know why they kept singling me out! So we walked there, topless, then were bent over the bar - that's what they have set up in the room, like in a dance studio, but in the middle of the room - and we were all whipped like horses with straps. Then they took our asses, every one of us, by men and women with strap-ons. They made us beg to have our asses fucked, tell them... tell them how thankful for our education we were, how thankful we were to be fucked by them. I couldn't say it, so they whipped me harder. Then I said it. But I didn't want to. The more we cried the more they told us how ungrateful we were, and then they just fucked us longer, swapping out for other disciplinary members. We were like that for hours. Literally hours. I remember looking at the clock. We were told to do better or we'd have to receive daily one on one lessons with one of the staff members. I... remember one of the girls in my room did that, she used to cry herself to sleep at night. I didn't want that to happen to me. So I just did what they told me like a good little slut girl. I'm a good girl, I promise. I didn't mean to be bad.

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