The Girls College Ch. 08

Miss Johnson pinched his right buttock with her whole hand, noticing the little bleeding tears that were present in his skin. She laughed and slapped it hard.

"Oops, you're bleeding, dear!" Miss Johnson laughed at the crying boy.

As her hands ran across his burst buttocks he screeched again, it was pain unlike he had ever experienced before. He felt the strongest hate for this woman, this sadistic lady, this baroness of pain. His tears had formed a pool below the bench he was tied to as he continued to sob and scream and squirm, desperately trying to free himself from her clutches, though to no avail.

*****

Her lotion-covered palms once again touched his buttocks, like water being thrown onto a red hot iron. He hissed at the sudden cool sensation on his blistered bottom, but soon it started feeling nice as the woman coated his rear with the slippery white liquid. His tears dried up after a few minutes of the gentle massage, before the lady moved on to his bruised lower back. She had beaten him especially aggressively here, she acknowledged it, and knew that there might be physical problems caused by this brutal punishment.

However, Miss Brooke Johnson wasn't the type of person to feel remorse for a male, and she didn't bat an eye at the thought of the boy breaking his back. After all, having him in a wheelchair would make him even more vulnerable than he already was.

After a few minutes of more intense massage, Miss Johnson applied a bit of lotion to the burning soles of the boy's feet. His soles that had been soft and cute before were now bruised, swollen and bright red. As the lotion swiftly sunk into his skin he immediately experienced relief, although he was still in immense pain.

*****

Snap. Snap.

"Nurse Liebenberg noted in her report that your little fuckhole was tight but easily stretched after a few minutes of intense treatment via a gloved fist," spoke Miss Johnson from behind the bound boy, donning a pair of white latex examination gloves. "Do you reckon that it's tightened up again, dear?"

"I don't- I don't know, Miss," he stuttered, stopping briefly as he felt his recently-rubbed buttocks being spread apart by her gloved fingers.

"You're about to find out, sweetie,"

He felt several dollops of lubricant being squirted into the crevasse between his buttocks and slowly flow down his crack, being spread by Miss Johnson's index finger. Paul groaned loudly as the lady's finger swiftly plunged inside of him.

"Oops, that's one!" she cooed. "I think we can fit a second."

She did fit a second, much to the boy's despair. He moaned as the second finger also slid inside of him, but it wasn't a pleasurable moan. Miss Johnson giggled evilly, starting to thrust her fingers in and out of him slowly. His buttocks, although treated, were still burning and his rectum hurt as Miss Johnson explored it. She could tell it had been stretched out the previous day, but it almost felt uncomfortable to insert her fingers inside. It wasn't a tight rear end by any means, though it was far from loose.

The boy squirmed as a third finger entered him, it was becoming unbearable now. His hole felt like it wouldn't be able to take any more, but Miss Johnson knew he could, and she would see to it.

"Ooooo! Oh, Miss! Please stop, please!" he groaned as she pushed the third finger deeply inside of him, all three of the latex-clad fingers now in to the knuckle.

He clenched his bound fists as her pinkie finger started to tickle just below the entry to his bottom, teasing him lightly, a low-key threat from Miss Johnson. At his next breath, she pushed her pinkie inside of him, turning his breath to a gasp. She giggled devilishly to herself at his reaction, as he leaned forward on the bench.

"It's okay, dear," she laughed. "You can't run away from Miss's fingers, just stay put and take them like a good little boy. Keep breathing, that's it."

With four fingers tightly wedged inside of his rectum, Paul had no choice but to take it. He took deeper breaths, and tried to ignore the pain, but he couldn't. It felt like his bottom was going to tear, which he mentioned to the lady, but she just retorted with a sadistic giggle and an even deeper, harder thrust into him.

"Panting like a dog, look at you!" she exclaimed before bursting out in laughter. "If only your little matron could see you now! Humiliated, crying, with my fingers fluttering around in your bottom! I wonder what she'd do. I wonder what your dad would do if he saw you like this!"

This was the last straw. Her words pierced through his final bit of self-control that kept him from screaming, from weeping. He started bawling and shaking, and finally Miss Johnson got her desired reaction. Paul's face glowed bright red in anger and embarrassment; he was overcome with so many negative emotions. His dad hadn't been mentioned to him for so long, the dad that abandoned him, gave him to an orphanage. An orphanage where he was the weakest, physically and mentally. An orphanage where he was constantly bullied, where he was teased, where he was abused by the other boys. He screamed, shouted and swore at her.

"Tsk tsk, poor little boy," she replied to his violent screaming. "Cursing at me for what his dad did."

Her hand left his sphincter with a loud, wet sound and he gasped throughout his screams. He slammed his hands against the bottom plank of the bench, demanding to be released from his bonds. Strangely, the woman complied, but she clearly wasn't intimidated by his threats. One by one his bonds were unlocked so that he was now freely wriggling on the bench.

Paul managed to struggle up, but immediately fell to the floor as his bruised soles made contact with the cold floor. As he writhed on the floor in pain, turning onto his front so that his brutally beaten lower back and bottom wouldn't touch the hard floor. He was sobbing and begging for her to let him go.

"You're free to leave, dear," she said, rather matter-of-factly. Brooke was sat on the chair she had spanked him on earlier, blissfully watching the boy as he shuffled around on the floor in pain. "The door isn't locked, you can go."

He continued to moan in pain, panting and sobbing desperately. Eventually, after many minutes of painful screams filling the room, the lady got up from the chair and crouched down next to the crying boy. She brushed a strand of hair out of his face as their eyes made contact.

Unexpectedly the boy spat in her face, his saliva dripping down her cheek. She gasped, slapping him hard in the face. Immediately the boy regretted it, he hadn't thought it through whatsoever. Miss Johnson got up and wiped the horrible, foul drool off her face. She was completely calm and composed as she walked back to the pained boy.

An evil smirk appeared on her face as she stood between his legs, before suddenly a hard kick hit Paul's scrotum. He screamed and turned over, as the pain stung him up to his stomach. Another sharp kick to his scrotum was followed with the same reaction as the fist.

"I'll make sure that the Headmistress hears about this, you fucking pig," she exclaimed before kicking him again. "A second disciplinary infraction on your second day, you'd wish you were expelled. Unfortunately..." She kicked him harder than before, squarely on his testicles, "We don't expel boys from the College, we destroy them."

She kicked him one final time; he was now a similar mess to the one he had been after his beatings. Drool was running from his mouth, his face was blood red and his eyes were bloodshot and soaked in tears. Miss Johnson violently pulled him up by his long hair, forcing him to stand on his bruised soles. He screamed and fell forward again, leading to another kick between his legs.

"Get up, pig!"

He struggled up and hobbled away from her, he was nauseous, in pain, hungry and angry. She walked behind him and shoved him through the door of her office, slamming it behind him. Paul was left outside, naked and sobbing.