The Girls College Ch. 10

To all the loyal readers of this story, especially the ones that have asked if I am going to finish it, the answer is yes. I'm struggling to write on a regular basis, but I have so many ideas for this story and it's only just beginning. Please be patient with me, it'll be worth the wait!

*****

Paul Edwards, dressed in only a pair of light pink panties and tied by his wrists to a leather wheelchair, arrived at the front door of Jane House being pushed by the red-haired woman he still didn't know the name of. He was still under the effect of the paralytic drug that had been injected into his veins during his period of unconsciousness, and restricted any movement of his limbs and neck. Being pushed even more uncomfortably into his sphincter due to the slightly uncomfortable seat of the wheelchair was a three inch silicone anal plug that had been rudely wedged inside of him by Nurse Claire Lily. There was a large see-through plaster over his left buttock, the spot where he had been publicly branded with the crest of London Girls College.

As he was pushed through the door of the hostel, the wheelchair was directed down the hallway towards his dormitory. He could hear the woman's heels as they tapped loudly against the tile floor behind him. This loud tapping was soon joined by the hurried sound of a different pair of heels making their way towards them. As the wheelchair continued being pushed forward, the familiar voice of Miss Jennifer Carter spoke.

"Stephanie! How is the boy?"

"He'll be fine, the branding went perfectly," explained the red-haired lady, who he now knew was called Stephanie. "Just a bit weaker than the Headmistress's previous subjects, that's all. Which isn't a bad thing, it means he's already softened up. Usually it takes a year before they weaken this far, but I guess Sophia did all the work for us."

Jennifer giggled.

"Why is he in a wheelchair?"

"He's been injected with a mild paralytic, it restricts the movement of his limbs completely," explained Stephanie nonchalantly. "It'll wear off in less than an hour."

"The first years are on a tour of the grounds, they'll return sooner."

"That's not a worry, I'm sure they wouldn't mind having a stiff little boy to toy with for a bit."

"I do suppose it would be a popular attraction."

As the two ladies chuckled they entered through the open door of the dormitory Paul had slept in for a few nights now. But, unlike when Paul last left it, the dormitory had been occupied by several bags and suitcases belonging to the students that would share the room with the boy. Paul was guided all the way to the bed at the very end, the one that he had occupied so far.

"Be a darling and help me with this, Jennifer."

He could hear a rubbery stretching sound behind him, then another, then another. He instantly identified it as the sound of a woman donning latex medical gloves, a sound he had heard way too often in his short stay at the College. Two pairs of latex gloved hands started untying the bonds around his wrists, but Paul couldn't look down as his neck was still paralyzed. After he was freed from the restraints, two hands hooked in underneath his armpits and pulled him up slightly so that the next pair of hands could grab hold of his upper legs. Paul was placed onto the bed on his back, his head resting on a pillow, before the two surprisingly strong ladies let go of him. He was now staring straight up at the ceiling with the inability to move his head to look at what the women at the foot of the bed were doing.

His left ankle was gently lifted up and locked into a soft cuff before being placed down again. The lady on his right did the same to the other ankle. As they shifted up to also cuff his wrists they came into his static view. Stephanie on his left, Jennifer on his right.

"Why am I being cuffed, M- Miss?" he muttered through heavy lips.

"Honey, do you really think we can trust a boy alone in a room full of girls' belongings?" asked Jennifer matter-of-factly. "You're being tied down so that when this paralytic wears off you can't wreak havoc on this dormitory."

Paul didn't reply, he just kept staring up at the ceiling. He still couldn't quite believe what was going on, what kind of a place he was in. When Matron Sophia said he had to be examined before going to one of the most prestigious schools in the country, he already had his doubts. The last thing he had expected was to be presented, fully nude, to the Headmistress in the orphanage cellar. And everything that happened after Miss Smith first violated and inspected him that fateful morning was quite simply mind-boggling to him.

*****

Soon the foyer of the hostel was filled with enthusiastic feet in leather Mary Janes, all eager to see Paul Edwards from up close. The matrons of Jane House led them down the hallway through to the dormitory at the end. As Matron Jennifer Carter opened the door to the large room and the rows of beds were revealed to the girls; a boy in nothing but light pink panties became visible at the far end of the room, bound by his wrists and ankles to a bed identical to the rest of them.

There was a small collective gasp from the students behind the matrons, and as they were led inside many nearly tripped over each other to see the boy more clearly. Paul Edwards was fully aware of their presence, but the paralytic that he was still under the effect of prevented him from moving to look at them. He could feel it wearing off, but the heavy feeling of his limbs and neck was only disappearing very slowly. As they gathered around him he felt embarrassed and blushed profusely. He could feel their eyes piercing his bare skin as they all visually inspected his body. Miss Jennifer Carter, the Jane House matron with bright red hair and pale skin, leaned her face over his and her usual sweet smile formed across her face.

"Still a bit stuck, love?" she asked, her voice silvery as she stood upright once more to face the excited crowd of girls. "Alright, girls, before you have your way with the boy, a few general house rules are in order."

Reaching into the hidden left pocket of her dress and retracting a pair of off-white latex gloves, she continued.

"Firstly, a boy's body is never touched with bare hands. The only time you are allowed to touch a boy's body without gloves is with the permission of a matron, instructor or the Headmistress. I trust all of you acquired the necessary box of one hundred pairs of latex gloves?"

There was a collective nod from the girls that watched on. Matron Jennifer now had a latex glove on her right hand, it was a long cuff glove that reached halfway down her forearm and wrapped tightly around her short, manicured fingers. She donned the left glove and continued speaking.

"I assure you a hundred pairs is not enough, unfortunately, but it should get you through the first month or so," she explained, turning her glance towards the still semi-paralyzed boy. "When properly gloved, the body of each boy in this College is your playground. We allow you to do mostly whatever you like to them, but unfortunately there are limits. There will be no sexual intercourse with any boy in this College unless granted prior permission and having proper supervision, always using enough protection. There are condoms available in all hostel bathrooms, however they are not to be used unless necessary. You can also request them from the hospital wing at the front desk."

"Furthermore," continued the gloved matron. "No cuts or incisions are allowed to be made to the boy's body without permission from a college nurse. You are not allowed to break any of the boy's poor, fragile bones unless you're willing to pay the costs of his recovery. Strangulation of a boy is prohibited if, once again, not receiving permission. Please don't take it upon yourself to corporally punish the boy, rather report it to a Matron or the Headmistress so that they or the prefects can deal with the proper means of discipline. However, you may beat the boy at your will, given no bones are broken and he remains conscious."

"The performance of milkings is allowed, but you must ask a prefect or other higher-up staff member. Milkings are not to be performed in dormitories, please use the leather-padded tables in the bathrooms or any other site you are granted permission to by a prefect or staff member."

"Alright, any questions?" asked Matron Jennifer, but she was greeted by none. Smiling at the girls, she continued. "Please at least skim through the books placed on each of your beds to get an understanding of the general rules of the College, pay special attention to uniform and body rules on pages twenty-eight through thirty-two. Understood?"

Another collective Yes came from the girls.

"Good, you'll be having uniform and body inspections at random, so I advise you to stick by the rules at all times," said Jennifer, in an almost warning-like tone. "I'll leave you all to unpack now, please try to restrain yourself from touching the boy for now at least, you'll be having lunch at twelve and it'd be better if you've unpacked by then. You'll be having enough fun with him over the next four years, there's no need to rush."

With a smile at the girls and a sweet giggle, she left the dormitory after making her way through the crowd of girls.

*****

Surprisingly, and unlike Paul imagined it, the girls were relatively calm after Matron Jennifer had left them alone in a room with a helpless, semi-paralyzed boy. It was as if he didn't exist, and for the first time in his life feeling invisible wasn't half bad. Paul closed his eyes and tried to relax, attempting to move his limbs. They were getting lighter, he could feel some mobility returning, but he was far from free movement.

Despite his best efforts to calm himself as he lay nearly nude and strapped to the, admittedly comfortable, bed; he couldn't. He was anxious, he didn't know when the next beautiful girl would approach him and do something to discomfort or embarrass him. He wanted to sleep, but he knew it was too risky falling asleep among this many man-hating young women.

Being strapped to the bed also gave him time to reflect on the past couple of days, something he'd had a bit too much of. He'd already cried enough, he didn't want to start bawling his eyes out while in sight of more than thirty girls. Paul tried his best to distract himself by focusing on moving his limbs. He managed to ball up his hands into weak fists, but it cost him a lot of energy. Next, he tried curling his cute, plump toes. Nothing. His legs were taking longer to recover from the so-called light paralytic that had been administered nearly an hour earlier. That's when he heard it.

"Do you think we can touch him yet?"

Paul gulped. Suddenly his anxiety heightened.

"I mean, I'm done unpacking, there's nothing better to do."

"Miss told us to just wait for her to come get us; she'll lose her shit if she caught us doing something to him."

"Yeah, but she's coming to get us for lunch, and that's in like an hour."

"Still, I don't think it's a good idea."

He couldn't see who was speaking, and his neck was still fully immobilized so that he couldn't tilt his head to look. But he could hear the familiar clicks of low Mary Jane heels approaching him hurriedly.

"It'll just be quick."

"Don't."

"We won't get caught, I promise."

"This is risky, Christina."

"Hey, stop being so fucking boring, just let her," another girl intervened.

The room was silent. All thirty-five girls watched on as the thirty-sixth approached the bound boy.

"At least wear gloves, she'll absolutely lose it if she catches you and your hands are bare," a different girl said.

"She won't come in, don't fret," retorted the girl named Christina.

Paul closed his eyes as fear settled in on him. The clicks of the heels against the tile floor stopped, and for a moment there was complete silence once more.

Then, Christina unexpectedly put her manicured fingertips to his inner thigh.

"Tsk-tsk-tsk, poor boy," she cooed, having full attention of the room. "Look at you, you worthless shitbag. Can't move, can't escape."

Paul slowly opened his eyes and saw the beautiful girl who stood by his side. The lovely scent of her perfume entered his small nostrils and for a few moments he revelled in it. Her fingertips moved upwards, getting dangerously close to the frilly hem of his pink panties. He looked at her, desperately.

"Please," he murmured.

"No point in begging, silly," she said.

She was one of the most beautiful girls Paul had ever seen. Barely five foot tall, sun kissed skin and long brown hair. She had the eyes of a feline, a panther. They were dark brown and fierce, yet soft in a way. She had a few light freckles on her cheeks and thin lips along with perfect, bright white teeth.

"We're just getting started."

Her fingers tickled his soft skin and he squirmed.

"Ah-ah, no squirming," she said, her voice was soft but it struck fear into the helpless boy.

"No, please," he begged her, but his voice was weak, it was hard for him to speak properly. The paralytic had taken some effect on his throat too, or at least it felt that way.

"Now what did I say about begging?"

Christina hooked her fingertips under the thin material of Paul's girly underwear and slowly lifted it from his skin.

"Should we have a look at what you're hiding below these adorable panties?" asked Christina, smirking at the boy as she looked him in the eyes.

Paul tried to wriggle around, but his legs were too numb, and he barely moved. He shook his head desperately, looking at the gorgeous girl next to him.

"Tsk-tsk, don't try squirming again," she scolded softly. "This is happening."

She lifted the material of the pink panties, slowly. Just as the tip of Paul's modest penis was revealed to her, the door to the dormitory swung open. Christina froze.

"What is going on in here?" gasped Matron Jennifer Carter as she saw the girl by Paul's bedside.

She approached Christina so quickly it was as if she floated across the room. Grabbing the girl harshly by the shoulder, she escorted her outside. As the door slammed shut behind her, there was a brief silence as everyone looked at each other with worried expressions.

"I fucking knew that'd happen," said the same voice that had tried warning Christina earlier.

*****

"Were you trying to be funny? Trying to show off?"

"No, Miss,"

"Now what on earth were you doing?"

"I- I don't know, Miss,"

"I have to fetch the Headmistress, this is unacceptable behaviour, missy. It'll be the last time you dare do something like this,"

"No, Miss, please,"

"What?"

"Not the Headmistress, please!"

"Why not? She'll find out about your misdemeanour anyway, it'd be better sooner rather than later,"

"Miss, please, I'll do anything,"

"Will you now?"

"Yes,"

"That's something worth putting to the test. Bend over the desk,"

A sigh.

"Now, do as I say."

Disapprovingly, Christina Stanton stood up from her padded leather chair. She placed her wrists on the surface of the desk and arched her back slightly.

"I said bend over,"

"I am, Miss,"

"That is not what bent over looks like,"

With this, Matron Jennifer Carter reached for the girl's ponytail and yanked it forwards. The girl yelped painfully.

"Flat over the desk, chest pressing against it, bottom out," instructed the Matron calmly, letting go of the girl's dark brown ponytail. "Lay your palms flat on the surface."

With another deep sigh Christina Stanton followed the hostel Matron's orders and bent over the desk fully, her school dress riding up her thigh.

"There, that's better," said Jennifer, uncrossing her smooth legs and opening the top drawer of her desk. From it, she removed a wooden paddle. "This won't hurt too much, but I'm sure it'll be memorable."

Christina's eyes widened as she caught sight of the large, thick paddle in Jennifer's right hand. She nervously gulped as the Matron got up from her office chair and walked around the desk. It was seconds before she felt Jennifer's hand resting on her middle back, slowly trailing downwards towards her bottom.

"So, tell me, Miss Stanton, what did you plan on doing to the boy?" asked Jennifer with a false sweetness in her tone of voice.

"N- Nothing, Miss," replied Christina nervously. "I just wanted to, um, scare him a bit."

"I think your eagerness to prove your dominance over him is a good sign, don't get me wrong Christina," said Jennifer, her hand leaving Christina's back before she slowly walked back around the desk. "But surely listening to your Matron's instructions should be at the top of your priority list, should it not?"

"Yes, Miss,"

"Alright, so why did you decide to go against what I said?" quizzed Jennifer, now looking at Christina head on once more.

Christina's eyes were focused on the desk below her, trying not to make eye contact with the angry Matron. She had dug the toe of her Mary Jane shoe into the soft carpet and was nervously twirling it around.

"I finished unpacking, and I- I don't know, Miss,"

Jennifer's hand grabbed a large clump of Christina's soft hair and wrenched it up, forcing the girl to look into her eyes.

"Look at me when you're speaking to me," ordered Jennifer, she sounded properly angry now. "Why did you disobey me?"

"I don't- I don't know, Miss,"

"How can you not know?" Jennifer asked, fully furious now.

"Miss, please-"

"Just like your mother, you are,"

"My mum?"

"She was just as much of a brat as you," scolded Jennifer. "A spoiled brat, who doesn't think before they do anything."

"I'm not a brat!"

Crack.

"Yes you are!"

A yelp, then a screech.

Through teary eyes, Christina Stanton looked at her left hand. It was bright red, her fingers felt numb. She tried to move them, but her pinkie and ring finger wouldn't go with. The nail on her pinkie had cracked and there was blood coming out from underneath it. It hurt, it hurt so badly.

"Put your hand down!"

"No!" cried Christina. "I can't feel it!'

"Put your hand down, now! Or I'll take out my anger on your face!"

Christina was bawling now, the pain just got worse by the second. She couldn't force herself to place her hand down again, she couldn't take another strike.

"Christina, put it on the desk," ordered Jennifer sternly.

The girl slowly lowered her shaking hand to the desk.

Crack.

Christina screamed this time, collapsing to the floor, onto her knees. She held her wrist with the other hand as she cried and yelped. It looked even worse this time. She could see it was broken, she could feel it. The only finger she could move was the one that hadn't taken a blow, her thumb.

"It's broken! It's fucking broken!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Unless you want another strike, I'd recommend you stop cursing," warned Jennifer. "Get up, I'll take you to the nurse."

Christina didn't get up. She just lay on the floor, crying her eyes out. It was pain like she'd never experienced it before.

"Come on, get up," Jennifer scolded. "Unless you'd like to stay crying and bleeding in here for the day."

The girl clambered up, having to press down with only her right hand. She felt dizzy, almost nauseous from the pain. Although it terrified her, she couldn't stop staring at her broken hand, which had started changing from red to blue in colour.

Jennifer didn't care, she just simply led Christina to Nurse Claire Lily's office. There was a deadpan expression on her face, she felt satisfied. Christina couldn't stop crying, and clasped onto her wrist as they passed several older students that looked at her in sorrow and empathy. Some looked like they knew what she was going through, and in the back of her worried head, Christina wondered if she was the first student that had suffered such a thing at the hands of Matron Jennifer Carter.