When I Joined an all Girls College

Disclaimer: I do not encourage or condone many of the behaviors depicted in this story. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

It was my first day in my new college where I got admitted for engineering. It was an all-girls college and one of the most prominent in the city. All the newcomers were asked to report to the prefects' room after the morning assembly and there weren't many as such, especially in the upper middle section. 

I was called in by one of the prefects and led towards a private area inside the prefects' room which was covered by full length curtains. She said I was there for a dress code and cleanliness inspection which is a must for all newcomers and something that I can never compromise ever as long as I am part of the college. She had a good look onto me from top to bottom and asked me to take off my pair of shoes and socks. I obliged and took off, keeping them aside, and stood in front of her, barefoot. She had a quick look onto my feet, especially my toenails and said she wanted to confirm whether I was wearing the right type of undergarments. I stood confused as she stepped closer towards me and pulled my frock upwards from the sides along with my long camisole, almost to my waist to confirm if I was wearing white briefs inside. She caressed gently the sides of my thighs rather intentionally from the back of her hand on her way up as well as way down, before letting my frock down.

Then she opened the top two buttons in the front to check whether I was wearing white brasserie inside, under the camisole. She asked whether I maintain hygiene in my private areas in terms of hair growth. I nodded. She said good with a tinge of smile from the corners of her lips but warned me that next time she'll ensure it herself whether I've trimmed my hair or not, and not to take a chance with her.

I met her again after a week inside the restroom on a Thursday afternoon. She smiled at me and asked me to follow her to the prefects' room again. She led me towards the same enclosed area and repeated the drill once again. This routine continued to happen a couple of times rather teasingly once every two weeks before she decided to make the next move. 

This time as she lifted my dress, she rather did it from the front instead of sides as she used to be on earlier occasions.  She had a good look at me and pulled my panties in a sudden move to my things. Though I naturally moved downwards to cover up my exposed pubes with both my hands, she led me stand up and had my hands on my sides holding onto my frock. She began gently inspecting my neatly trimmed pubic area by running her fingers against, caressing. Then she moved along both sides onto my back, cupping both my cheeks firmly, and squeezed my flesh out of her fingers as I held on to the hem of my dress and camisole. She came behind me and inserted her hands inside upwards and lifted my brasserie up, holding onto my bosoms and squeezing them gently before letting me go with a peck on my cheeks.  

A couple of weeks later, it was getting colder by each day as the winter days struck and the mornings were literally chilly with fog set in. I was late to college for the third time within a period of two weeks and I was informed by my class lecturer that I should meet the dean after college hours to face the consequences for my indiscipline for having been late so frequently. Our dean was a tall and lean lady probably in her mid-forties and known to be a strict disciplinarian though I had not encountered personally until then. I was the only one that day in her office when I reached there after the last period and she seemed occupied with her usual chores when I entered, after having asked her permission. She asked me why I was there and I started explaining to her the reason behind myself being late to college more than a couple of times and provided as many justifications as I could. She didn't seem to bother much about my rumblings and asked me to wait in one of the corners of her large office after taking my shoes and socks off. I was a bit surprised at the purpose for having had to remove my shoes and socks off but obliged without wondering the reasons.

I was made to stand there barefoot for the next fifteen minutes or so facing the wall as she went on with her duties nonchalantly. She called me in a stern voice, having done her chores apparently and asked me to come towards her desk. She came beside me, lifted my frock along with my camisole and clipped them around my waist, leaving me with only panties below my waist. She sat on the couch in front and dragged me towards her holding me tight to herself around my waist while her other hand probed along my bare inner thighs. She took hold of a generous amount of flesh off my right thigh between her thumb and index finger, and began squeezing gently as I started wincing in pain. It continued for a couple of minutes until I was literally in tears. It was one of those most sensitive and responsive parts of my body and I was quickly onto my toes as she then moved to my left thigh and gave it a hard squeeze similarly for the next couple of minutes exchanging her hands. 

I was then asked to bend across over her lap as she sat rather laid back on the couch. She yanked my panties down onto my knees completely in one go and pulled them further down up to my ankles, exposing my rear. A gush of cold wind flew across my naked bottom as she started smacking hard on each of my cheeks as well back of my thighs with her bare hand, alternatively. She made me count every smack that landed on my rear more than a dozen times before letting me go home that evening.