The Trials of Pauline Ch. 07

After dinner, the three young ladies relaxed in Miss Armitage's private room. They had returned to the college and showered. They examined each other's bruises, applying soothing lotion to the tender skin. Rita's nipples, in particular, were in need of attention. They then set about their routine tasks before dinner. On Saturday evenings, they were excused school work.

The young ladies usually played board games, but on this occasion, they sat recalling the thrilling activities in the barn. It was agreed that they would pool the payments for services, to be shared out at the end of the academic year. Janine surprised the others by admitting that Fagin had given her fifty pounds for her services. They were added to Rita's hundred pounds.

'For each virgin, we get one hundred pound?' Miss Armitage cried. 'We'll be rich!'

During the discussion that evening, the mistress remembered with a thrill, the fury of Fagin's punishment. She was, she told the pupils, reminded of her first experience of bondage and humiliation. It had happened when she was only just turned eighteen. She had inadvertently caught her uncle in the act of whipping her mother, his sister-in-law. Even though it was unintentional, her uncle told the young Miss Armitage that must be punished for spying. And not just the normal spanking.

The next day, she was sent to her room to put on her old school uniform, before returning to her uncle's study. He threw her top coat to her.

'Here! We're going for a drive.'

After getting into the car, they were joined by her mother, who blindfolded her. The drive was not a long one. About ten minutes. The young lady was helped out of the car and taken into a building. When her blindfold was removed, she found herself in a small panelled office. The floor was thickly carpeted. The mahogany desk was clear of papers, well-polished, with a green shaded lamp on it.

Pictures of important looking men, wearing curious hats, and fur-trimmed gowns stared down at her from the walls. Her uncle removed her topcoat, then opened a drawer in the desk, to take out a pair of handcuffs. Miss Armitage was bewildered. What was going on, she wondered? Her wrists were crossed in front of her before being manacled with the small pair of handcuffs. Though small, they were firm and secure.

It was then that her uncle clasped a hinged metal band round her neck. It had a ring of staples set into its circumference. Her arms were raised and put round the back of her head. Two small brass padlocks secured the manacles to the staples at the back of the neckband. Finally she was blind-folded once again and led, over a carpeted floor, out of the room. As the door opened, the sound of many voices reached her. Laughter and chatter. It quickly subsided as she was led into the room. She was helped up three steps, stumbling onto a wooden surface. The atmosphere was warm. Cigar smoke hung in the air.

When Miss Armitage's blindfold was removed, her eyes widened with disbelief. Her throat froze with shock. She was standing on a wooden platform in the centre of a large room. Four blinding spot-lights, one from each corner of the room, trained on her figure, preventing her from seeing the outer parts of the room.

She could make out tables, with people sitting at them. At the tables set round the base of the platform, was a crowd of men dressed in dark suits, some wearing bowler hats. Others carried rolled umbrellas, or walking sticks and canes. All, except her uncle, wore black masks. Miss Armitage stood quite still as the chatter stopped, the men turning to look up at her.

There was a hushed silence. All eyes were trained on Miss Armitage, the centre of attention. No one spoke.

Her uncle stepped forward to stand on the lower step, hooked his cane under the hem of her skirt, pushing it up high to reveal her blue woollen knickers. The young lady's heart was beating fast and her mouth felt dry. Suddenly, the platform began to revolve slowly. She closed her eyes tightly and blushed a deep crimson at the thought of all those strangers staring at her knickers.

The men put down their coffee cups on the tables, turning to face her. Then, to her horror, she saw her mother standing directly in front of her. She was dressed as a man, wearing a mask, but she knew it was her mother. Glaring at her with a grim, merciless expression. Two of the men came onto the revolving platform, one on each side of her. They hooked a fore-finger into the top of her bloomers, drawing them down to her ankles. Miss Armitage felt paralysed with humiliation as her nakedness was exposed to the whole company.

There was a low whistle. Heads craned forward to catch sight of the naked loins.

Her uncle whispered to her that she should step out of the knickers. She was petrified. Her legs were like lead, refusing to move. Suddenly, she was swiped hard across the buttocks with the cane. Recoiling and stiffening, she stepped from the crumpled bloomers. No one moved as she reluctantly lifted first one unwilling foot, then the other, out of the navy-blue knickers.

One of the men beside her, lifted them to his face, sniffing their contents, then threw them into the room. There was a brief scuffle as men fought to catch them. They were passed round the room, their aroma being inhaled by all the men. Miss Armitage was mortified at this behaviour. She watched them in disbelief as they, for their part, stared in amazement at the mass of dark curls covering her navel. Her mother was sneering at the sight.

The growth of hair on her belly, in her groin and thighs, was extremely profligate. Her uncle tapped her inner thighs, instructing her to part her legs. The display of the thick covering of hair on her genitals, spreading down her inner thighs, through to the cleft between the cheeks of her bottom was startling. The young model was overwhelmed by guilt at the lushness of her growth, blushing deeply.

When one of the men who had removed the knickers leaned towards her, to peer closely into the plump swelling of her vulva, she almost fainted with humiliation.

'Yes, gentlemen. There you are.' Her uncle spoke softly. 'You see an example of the hirsute young female in her natural state. Turn round please,' he asked his niece politely, 'and I'd be most grateful if you'd allow us to remove your skirt.'

The two men unfastened the garment, allowing it to shudder to her feet. The rounded cheeks of her bottom were exposed, drooping seductively over the tops of her thighs, as she stepped from the skirt and kicked it to one side.

'Would you bend forward, please.' The model was horrified at being asked to display her hairy bottom to these faceless men. She turned to look pleading at her uncle. Rooted to the spot, with her hands behind her head, she begged for mercy from him.

Still the platform slowly revolved, giving everyone a full view of the model.

'Please,' he said his steel-like eyes narrowed. The cane slashed again across the ample flesh, sinking deep into the softness. The stinging slash cut into her, forcing a gasp of pain from her. Tears welled up in her eyes. Without further protest, she bent her body forward, being steadied by two of the smiling men on either side. Her ample buttocks were thrust out for detailed inspection of her intimate crevices.

Her uncle pointed with his cane. 'There you see, gentlemen, the way in which the hair grows thickly between the tops of the legs. There is a large tuft in the crack of the rectum and a lush covering around the vulva itself. This is a wonderful example of the hirsute female. It is rare to find one in which none of the hair has been trimmed or, indeed, removed entirely. In its natural state, the hair also grows thickly in the arm pits and, in some cases, around the nipples. To some gentlemen, this is a very erotic condition. Shall we see whether or not this specimen has more body hair, or whether she has committed an act of folly by removing it?'

The men muttered and murmured amongst themselves, nodding their approval.

'Would you please stand up again?'

Young Miss Armitage stood and turned, still wearing the school shirt and tie. The shirt partly hid the hairy navel. One of the two men stepped in front of her to unbutton the shirt which he hoisted up to her neck, stuffing it behind her manacled wrists behind her neck, leaving her completely naked.

Arresting the attention of the men, nestling in her arm pits , were dense tufts of black curls. Her full heavy breasts swung slightly, pulled upwards by her arms held beside her head. They were topped with swollen, dark-brown nipples, hard with arousal. Round each nipple was a light cluster of hair. Her belly was well-rounded, with the hair growing to a thick peak at her navel.

There was a gasp from the men as the full glory of her fleecy armpits, and overgrown navel, were revealed to them.

'Gentlemen, you are now allowed to touch or stroke the specimen wherever you wish, run your fingers through her hairy patches. Satisfy yourselves that the hair is, indeed, real. Admire and enjoy the feel of it.'

Miss Armitage was gripped with panic. With hands manacled behind her head, there was no escape. Nor did she want to show her embarrassment to her mother, her uncle and his friends. The young lady was immediately surrounded by men, jostling to explored her firm, silken flesh with roving hands as though she were a marble statue. Her supple flesh crawled with humiliation and disgrace. Her buttocks, hips, calves, breasts and arms were all caressed, strokes and patted.

The men murmured their appreciation to each other. During the bustle, her legs were drawn apart, belts fastened round her ankles were fixed to staples set into the sides of the platform. Not one of the men laid aside his brolly or stick. To Miss Armitage, her humiliation was almost complete, when, to her devastation, her vagina began to lubricate freely. Hands probed her inner thighs, stroking the hair, getting nearer and nearer the tell-tale stickiness at her epicentre. The platform revolved slowly, giving access to every reaching hand.

Then it happened! Fingers discovered the wet pouting lips, barely visible through the mass of curls. Miss Armitage didn't know which was to turn her face to hide her disgrace at the involuntary show of sexual arousal. The finger hesitated in the syrup between her warm folds. There was a pause in the fumble. A slight scoop. Then it was removed.

'Tut, tut!' muttered the man as he examined his finger, now stained with her juices. He held it out for the others to take a close look. They peered at it intently, before exchanging looks of surprise. Then another of the men tentatively pushed his second finger into the crack. After prodding it around the hidden folds, he took it away and looked at it in disbelief. He sniffed it before holding it out for the others to inspect. There was shaking of heads and much tutting.

There was no respect or privacy left for the chastened young lady. Then many groping hands felt between her thighs. Fumbling into the lips of her vulva, gathering the juices, the crack of her bottom, into her rectum, jabbing at her clitoris; flicking, rubbing and caressing the oily skin, drawing out the honey. They were all muttering to each other words of surprise and disbelief. Miss Armitage stood with a dry mouth, crimson with shame.

Her secret was no secret any more. Her most intimate folds were being violated and defiled. She started to sob quietly with remorse. But no one took any notice of her emotions until her thighs began to tremble and her buttocks to shake. Agitation built up within her groin, deep inside her belly. Her vulva was leaking copiously, soaking into the hair, to the great excitement of the gentlemen.

'Ah! The vagina is now ready for the act of copulation. The function nature designed it for. If you stroke and caress the cheeks of the buttocks and the small of the back, you may find even more lubricant flowing from the vulva.'

Miss Armitage felt hands obey his request, an act which aroused her to a peak of excitement. Fingers parted the hair round her entrance where the wetness between her thighs had increased, as yet more juices oozed and dribbled from between the lips.

'There you are gentlemen. It appears that our model is now ready to be penetrated by the male penis. The pumping action will also activate the little hood you see covering the clitoris,' he explained, pointing to the part in question. 'This will, eventually, result in the lady having rapid contractions and convulsions. That is the orgasm. A most exciting moment for the lady. I shall begin.'

And, almost immediately, a stout walking stick was slid through the crook of her elbows, and below her chin. The stick was pushed downwards, forcing Miss Armitage to bend over forwards. She felt a stiff blunt weapon prodding at her vulva from behind. She took a deep breath as she anticipated being sexually violated. She wanted to scream out that she was a virgin, but that would only inflame the men even more. The other men looked on with fascination, unfastening their trouser-fronts to pull out their protruding, bursting erections.

'Please restrain yourselves, gentlemen, by limiting yourselves to twelve deep thrusts each, you can all sample the delights of this delicious example of feminine charm. Then you may try the mouth. The main purpose is to stimulate the lady by filling her impatient vagina with a variety of stiff penises and satisfying it's ache by giving her much pleasure in the encounter. The female orgasm will be our cue to finish.'

The thick, warm shaft of male flesh prodded partly into her vulva. She held her breath. Stiffened her muscles. It made a few pushes at her maidenhead before crushing it aside to invade her virgin shrine. Miss Armitage opened her mouth to scream. But no sound came, for a turgid penis was inserted. She was paralysed.

The weapon within her vagina thrust in and out of her tight slippery folds, whilst that in her mouth did the same. Then, as she sucked on it desperately, the one behind suddenly withdrew, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness. But not for long. One by one the men serviced her with a dozen firm plunges into her soaking, clutching warm flesh before withdrawing to make way for the next one. After she felt the spurt of warm liquid in her mouth, that too was replaced.

Penis after penis penetrated deep into her, until she lost count. Splashes of warm sperm splattered over her buttocks and back as some of the men masturbated over her after withdrawing from her warm muff. Finally, after what seemed like hours of activity, she achieved welcome, shuddering orgasmic spasms, each spasm accompanied by a loud gasp.

Her orgasm overtook her with a wave of despair, her knees trembling uncontrollably, her whole body shaking with the intensity of it whilst she leaned heavily on two of the men, others holding on to her firmly. Every twitch of her face, each grunt, was noted with great care by the onlookers, as her orgasm shook her. Her mind was ablaze with disgust at herself.

'The young lady is also wanton, gentlemen. To allow several men to fornicate with her is an act of prostitution. In need of punishment. Feel free to correct her.'

Almost before her convulsions had subsided, a circle of men started to slash at her bare flesh with their canes, sticks and brollies. Buttocks, thighs, waist all fell victim to the onslaught. Miss Armitage was emotionally drained. She no longer cared what happened to her. She was a slave to the sadistic beating from the men, all of them fighting to get close enough to beat her. Her knees crumpled beneath her, her body slumping slowly to the wooden floor. She twisted herself round to protect her head and face from the blows with her arms.

But the blows rained down on her body. There were shouts of abuse.

'Thrash her! Scum! Bitch!' Her mother's voice was louder than them all.

Nor did her breasts escape the violation. She was beaten brutally.

'Open her legs.' one voice shouted. Miss Armitage felt her thighs being pulled wide open, her soaking genitals pouting from the bush of wet, matted hair.

'Beat her!' came the cry. Miss Armitage recognised her mother's voice. Her inner thighs and genitals were subjected to the most appalling torture. With her brain no longer capable of registering the pain, Miss Armitage's whole body became a mass of searing hot pain. Large blue bruises and scarlet stripes smothered her buxom body. Ugly swellings on her breasts and buttocks, on her thighs and back, left her like a heap of human garbage. One of her eyes was closed in a deep blue and crimson swelling.

The beating stopped. The circle began to shrink from the platform. Eyes were glued to the broken human being. There came a feeling of shame and contrition.

Then she lost consciousness.

When Miss Armitage finally recovered, she was lying with a rug thrown over. She was in her own home. Her whole body was on fire, throbbing with pain and heat. The trembling was uncontrollable. Sitting alone, watching her, was her smiling uncle. Miss Armitage looked at him, silent, for a long time. He was naked. She glanced into his groin to study the half-filled penis. It took on beauty all of its own. Then she realised that she loved this man. She adored his penis. He was her lord and master. She was his slave.

A quiet orgasm rippled through her loins at the thought. Very slowly, she slithered over to him, crawling abjectly between his legs. Her eyes swollen with tears, Miss Armitage took his manhood between her lips and kissed it. When it had responded fully to her inexpert stimulation, she crawled onto his lap, crushing the stiff phallus deep into her stretched vagina until it was fully embedded. Then she fell asleep, exhausted but content in his arms, his hands cupping her ample breasts.

After listening to her story, the three pupils had a much deeper regard for their dormitory mistress. It was unanimously agreed that Polly should be made dormitory prefect, acting as the spy for Miss Armitage, reporting carnal activity amongst the other girls. She was so successful in this that all six girls were finally drawn into the net.

The whole dormitory became a nest of lust and sensual activity. Nightly floggings, mutual masturbation and orgasms went on with one pupil or another. Polly was Miss Armitage's chief assistant with punishment. Janine was an effective second-in-command to Polly. One of the pupils did not involve herself in the group activities, preferring to watch from her bed quietly after a slapping, rubbing herself to a private fulfilment as the others enjoyed their nightly frolicks.

Polly had now attained a power-base which gave her authority in the dormitory, though she allowed Miss Armitage the control necessary for a mistress.

It was Miss Armitage who told them about Father James having an unholy interest in young ladies - or rather their virgin bodies. He was not a repulsive person by any means. Indeed, he was a handsome, tall man in his late thirties. Some of the girls found him attractive and used him as the object of their sexual fantasies. However, he was known to enjoy observing the Principal meting out punishment to the wayward young ladies. The Principal herself was a rather large lady, stout bodied with an erect bearing, black hair greying at the temples beneath her head-dress. Her face was stern, putty-coloured with no chin to speak of.

Father James visited every morning except Fridays when an older, much milder, Father Williams taught religious instruction. It was strongly rumoured by those who had been queuing in the punishment line in the Principal's office that Father James' cassock showed distinct signs of arousal, like a rod poking at the fabric, during the punishment.

Furthermore, the girls giggled at the thought of him copulating after the event with the Principal as she bent forward over the desk. It seems that sounds of slapping had been heard in the Principal's room after the girls had left it. Rita insisted that she had put her ear to the door after one such punishment to hear Father James chastise Miss Angelica.