The Hollister School for Girls

by Powerone

  "Kari, I presume. Such a nice figure you have. But I hear that you have had trouble in our school, cheating, isn't it?"

  "Yes, Sir,"

  "And you want us to make it go away?"

  "Yes, Sir.” She stood in front of them, their eyes focused on her chest and between her legs, Kari not dared to look down, did not want to see how exposed her pussy lips were, felt the material cling to her sex, pushed between her puffy labia.

  "Cheating is such a serious offense, Kari. It will require severe punishment to make it go away. Are you ready to submit to such punishment?” Mr. Jamison looked at Kari. Such a lovely young girl, younger than his granddaughters. He had just turned sixty, an age that he hated to admit to. His wealth-considerable by even Southern standards-old money from a family that inhabited the South for generations, allowed him the luxury of a bevy of young girls through Hollister School, a Board member, just like his father, his grandfather and his great-grandfather before him. He was in good shape, spent time to work out each day, his waist not as slim as his younger days, but a respectable thirty-four inches. His hair had traces of salt and pepper, his face a little hardened from too much Southern sun, but still retained much of his good looks. He dressed impeccably, in the tradition of Southern aristocrats. While he had seen the ads for Viagra and other drugs, this was not his problem; a healthy erection was always brought about the likes of girls like Kari.

  "And we do mean severe, Kari. We only had one girl who had been caught cheating and she was expelled immediately, a deterrent that has worked for many years until you came along. We would have to be assured that your punishment would be sufficient to deter girls from following in your unseemly behavior in the future.” He watched for her reaction, hoped for a positive response. It had been a long time since he was given a girl as attractive as Kari to punish, a task that he enjoyed. He laughed to himself, part of his heritage, the desire to take and punish. Mr. Lafitte was a direct descendant of the “gentlemen” pirate Jean Lafitte, a name well-known in New Orleans and throughout the South. He sported a handle-bar mustache, similar to his namesake and the same seductive look that the ladies fell for so easily and Jean Lafitte was famous for. He was just shy of sixty, young girls like Kari didn't look twice at him any longer. As the newest Board member of Hollister School, he had access to them now. His hand roamed down to the front of his pants, shifted his hard cock in his pants, watched as Kari's eyes followed.

  Kari was terrified of these two men. She had heard all of the rumors about them from her school friends and also the stories that abounded throughout the Southern aristocracy. The mention of “severe” with the word punishment sent a shiver of terror down her spine. She looked into their eyes and knew that her body would not be spared. But her alternatives were limited. A life of mediocrity, crying babies, drunken husband, living in squalor didn't appeal to her. She would do anything to stay in the good graces of her parents, and she knew that these men would do anything. “I will accept whatever punishment you wish to inflict on me,” she blurted out, as she surrendered her body to the perversions of these men.

  "Step over here,” both of them moved to one of the mats on the floor. “I want you to do some exercises for us. Let us see that delightful body accented so nicely with your outfit. Begin with deep knee bends. Make sure your knees go out to the side when you do."

  Kari began exercising, her knees spread out far to the side, the shorts pulled into her crotch, almost splitting her pussy lips apart as they did. She looked down, her crotch almost naked, a tiny bit of fabric pushed tightly against her pussy sawed her slit as she went up and down, rubbed her tender inner lips painfully. Their eyes were on her crotch each time she lowered her body towards the ground, her thighs ached as she tried to give them the look they wanted, eager to please them, anything to make her punishment less. She began to perspire, her stomach drawn tight, her legs ached.

  "Now bend at the waist and touch your toes. Keep in that position for ten seconds before rising again,” the men moved behind her now. “Legs spread wider, Kari, wider now,” a voice urged her. Now the shorts split her ass cheeks, dug into the tender crack, the rough material slid up and down as she bent over, the shorts pulled tightly over her cheeks each time she touched her toes, her body strained to stay in the position for ten seconds, her legs shook in pain. She felt the cool air of the room on her cheeks, knew that the shorts did little to hide her charms, more accent than cover.

  "Hold that position and grab your ankles tightly,” Mr. Jamison ordered her. He moved closer to her, felt her body shake as he pushed his crotch into her ass cheeks, rubbed his hardened cock up and down. His hands moved to her hips, guided them back and forth, her naked skin rubbed against his throbbing member, felt it jerk and quiver in his shorts. He pulled back, his hands moved where his cock was, back and forth over her cheeks, felt the young, taut skin of her ass, his fingers took the small strip of fabric and moved it further in over her split until both ass cheeks were naked. He gripped her cheeks in his hands, his large palms clenched each firm cheek in a powerful grasp.

  She felt him behind her, he took such liberties with her ass cheeks, her shorts pulled aside, pressed deep into her crack, his hands gripped her naked flesh as if he owned it. She felt his powerful fingers pull her cheeks apart, felt her anus spread wider as her crack was pulled almost flat. “Oooow!” she cried unexpectedly, Mr. Jamison used one hand to slap her tender cheek hard, the skin ached from the sharp bite. The hand caressed again, then another sharp crack to her other cheek, her body trembled to stay in position, her thighs ached from the deep bent over position. Her ass began to heat up, Mr. Jamison continued to slap her, caress her, then slap her ass again. Her ass throbbed, sure that it was beat red by now, his powerful hands beat her tender cheeks.

  "Such a lovely ass, Kari. It was made for spanking. Do you like that? Do you like when I spank your ass?” His hand shot out again, this time harder, her body trembled under the forceful blow. His hand moved between her legs, his fingers found the tiny patch of material that covered her sex, pushed in deep between her lips. She shuddered when he touched her there; his fingers ran over her shaved lips, the material split them apart. “I think I have my answer, Mr. Lafitte,” he laughed as he touched her, felt the wet material in her crotch. “It seems that little Kari has a very wet pussy,” laughing louder now at her body's betrayal.

  He found her out, his fingers not be content with just her ass. She felt his fingers touch her sex, made things even worse, her juices flowed freely. Her body bent over submissively, legs spread wide, her ass almost naked, his powerful hands beat on her young flesh, all combined to make her wet, the power that he had over her made her body demand more.

  "I think our little Kari needs some more stimulation. Stand up, Kari. Take off your top and lace your hands behind your head. Elbows out,” Mr. Lafitte commanded. They both waited impatiently as she stood and stretched from the unnatural position before she let the sports bra slip off her body and fall to the floor. She kept her eyes to the ground as she put her arms in the position they required of her. “Arch your back for us, Kari. Your titties aren't very big, so we want you to arch your back to accent them,” he teased as she thrust them out, as if she was trying to make up for their small size.

  "Look up, Kari.” He wanted her to see her humiliation as she posed so provocatively for them. He loved the look on her face, knew she realized that her body craved what they did to her, the humiliation plain on her face. He looked down at her breasts, not large, but firm as young breasts are. Her nipples were something else, large and pushed out over an inch-and that was before they had even been touched. Dark brown areolas surrounded the pink flesh, all framed by white flesh, a hint of tan from a low-cut bikini. He blew on the nipples, tiny goose bumps appeared on her areolas, her nipples extended out even farther. She arched her back more, eager to feel his touch.

  She couldn't wait for him to touch her, her nipples ached, she arched her back out brazenly, offered her young breasts to
his eager fingers and hands. She watched, almost as if in slow motion, his hands moved down to her stomach. She sucked in her breath as his rough hands fondled her, higher and higher in a circular motion until she shivered when his fingers touched the underside of her breasts, brought a delightful surge to her loins. He cupped them from below, almost as if he wanted to test their weight, hefted them up and down in his hands, his eyes glued to them as they bounced beneath his gaze. She so longed for him to touch her nipples, to stop the ache, to feel them grasped. She had very sensitive nipples, the least amount of stimulation could almost drive an orgasm from her body.

  Mr. Lafitte played with her firm breasts, delighted in the way the firm flesh snuggled into his hands, his palms wrapped around the flesh, his fingers only inches from the hard nipples that pushed out so provocatively. He couldn't wait any longer; two fingers gripped the hard nipples, a throaty moan from her lips as he gently squeezed the rubbery flesh. Her back arched farther, her breasts pushed deeply into his hands as his fingers continued to squeeze and release the nipples, as they grew bigger under his touch. He squeezed harder, a profound moan from Kari, his fingers pushed deeper into her delicate flesh, her nipples compressed under his touch, rubbed his fingers back and forth, the nipples pinched between them.

  She thought she came, her shorts now soaked, pushed into her slit as Mr. Lafitte played with her breasts, his fingers more urgent, squeezed harder, the pleasure mixed with the new-felt pain, her breasts pulsated with the blood in the tips. He released her nipple from his grip, the blood rushed painfully back to the tip, only to meet the squeezed grip of his fingers again, each time successively harder. She watched as he clamped her nipples tightly and pulled on them, tugged them from her chest, watched as the pink nipple flesh pulled farther and farther out, turned white as the blood rushed from the crushed tips. She arched her back more, tried to relieve some of the pressure and partly to push them into his grip, offered them for his abuse. She rose up as he pulled up on her nipples, forced her onto her toes or suffer the painful stretch of her delicate flesh. “God!” she yelled as he suddenly twisted her nipples, the hardened nubs already pulled, now twisted in his powerful fingers.

  Mr. Lafitte yanked her up by her nipples, loved the way her abused young breasts so absorbed the pain he inflicted on them, her body shuddered, not in pain, but pleasure. Her breasts were pulled up at least five inches, her tears formed, her beautiful young breasts now contorted into painful shapes, the cones pulled long, the nipples twisted and mangled beneath his fingertips. He released one breast, then slapped it hard with his palm, the sound of flesh meeting flesh in a painful slap rang out in the quiet room.

  She shuddered when he slapped her breast, kept the position, knew she allowed him this full access to spank her breasts. His other hand released that nipple, both breasts now slapped hard, Kari felt them bounce against each other as his hand beat the tender flesh. She moaned in pain, her nipples tingled; her breasts warm from the slaps. She had no time to think, his hands continued to slap at her breasts, felt them dance on her chest as they moved back and forth under the constant barrage. He paid particular attention to her nipples, made sure they received the brunt of each slap, the flesh around them red and abused.

  Mr. Jamison stood behind her, eager to join in. “Let me slip these off of you, Kari.” His hands pulled down the tight shorts, struggled to get them over her hips, the wet pants clung to her flesh.

  She felt hands pulled down her pants, eager hands that almost ripped them from her body, the cool air rushed over her sex, the pants slid down over her hips and finally free, fell to the ground, her legs trapped them at her feet.

  "Step out of them,” Mr. Jamison ordered, watched as she lifted each leg so carefully, caught a quick glimpses of a pink pussy as she pulled the shorts off of her feet. “Lay down on the mat,” eager to join in the fun, Mr. Jamison moved onto his knees beside her on one side, Mr. Lafitte on the other.

  She was afraid of what they would do to her. Naked, her breasts already burned from the slaps, both of them next to her, crouched down, her body open and available to them. Mr. Jamison grabbed one of her ankles, pulled up her leg, spread it out, her sex open and defenseless. That was exactly what he wanted, his hand rose up and moved quickly between her legs to slap harshly on her sex, his flat palm smashed into her puffy lips, pushed hard back and forth, rubbed the flesh. The pain came slowly, the noise first, then an unexpected quietness followed by a sudden shock to her system as the pain raced to her brain, signaled the incredible burn between her legs. God, how could he hit her there, between her legs, smash her delicate sex? His palm moved back and forth, crushed her lips, pushed between them, knew that it slid effortlessly with her juices. Mr. Lafitte was not idle, his hand returned to her ass to spank it, fingers found their way between her cheeks, both her legs pulled out far, her cheeks apart, her anus exposed. Two quick slaps, each time on her anus, a strange feeling radiated from the tiny hole, like when she shit after a spicy meal.

  Mr. Jamison pulled out farther on her leg, Kari looked like a chicken spread wide, her sex so openly exposed, his hand slapped again and again on her lips, achieved the desired swollen and inflamed inner skin. They twisted and turned her, flipped her back and forth, her legs used as leverage, her body handled by the two strong men with ease. Mr. Lafitte finally grabbed both of her ankles, pulled her onto her back, yanked her legs up over her head, bent them painfully behind her ears. She looked down, humiliated at how exposed she was, fearful as she saw Mr. Jamison between her legs, again. Her fear was not unfounded, Mr. Jamison spanked her pussy again, this time her body so open, her lips pulled apart by the wide spread of her legs, even her anus peeked out, her cheeks split wide. She bucked and cried to no avail, the men too eager for their own pleasure to even care about her pain, as her sex was battered by Mr. Jamison. The sharp slaps on her wet pussy rang out in the room, Mr. Lafitte held her tightly in a position of submissiveness, her sex received the brunt of the brutal spanking. Finally he stopped, his hand pushed tightly against her sex, between her lips, the heel of his hand slid up and down her slit, over the wetness from her pussy. She shuddered when he pushed hard on her clit, the rough skin of his palm rubbed over the silky bud.

  Kari was bound by the two men. She was on a wide, leather bench, face down, her legs spread wide, on her knees. They had tied her behind the knees first, the ropes pulled to the bench beneath, Kari groaned as they pulled until it felt like she would split up the middle. But they were still not satisfied, her ankles similarly bound, this time farther down under the bench, her legs now pulled back and spread wide.

  They bound her wrists. They had pulled them underneath her, through her legs and tied them to her ankles, her head forced down on the bench, her ass arched as if she invited them to fuck her, her pussy, and especially her asshole, open and exposed. The only thing she could do was shake her ass.

  "First, her tits,” Mr. Lafitte exclaimed, pulled out a pair of silver chains, thick Japanese clover clamps on the ends. Each clamp was designed to tighten as they were pulled outward, designed with a strong grip that would not let go once clamped onto a tender nipple. He threw one to Mr. Jamison on the other side of the bench.

  Kari felt the men on both sides of her, their hands reached under her body to seek out her breasts. Strong hands cradled each hanging globe, able to contain almost all of her tits in their palms, clenched and unclenched on her resilient flesh. Having her nipples pinched was bad enough, she knew that the ominous looked clamps would be much more painful, a fate she had already accepted. Fingers tugged and pulled at her nipples, nails often pushed into the tender flesh, the sharp bite as the rubbery flesh was punished. She could tell how big her nipples had gotten and, after their abuse, how tender. She screamed when the first clamp snapped shut on her nipple, drove the blood to the tip as it sat just behind the tip, clamped onto the areola and the beginning of her nipple, the blood engorged nipple throbbed in pain. She hyperventilated, waited for the other clamp, her wish granted
, another scream torn from her lips. Her breasts ached, fearful that had only just begun, that this pain was just beginning. Why did I ever cheat? The penalties more severe than the rewards would have been. She had to get through this ordeal, her body tensed, waited for the men to continue her ordeal into pain and retribution.

  The men each grabbed their chain and pulled it to the side of the bench, her beautiful proud breasts yanked to the sides, stretched out of shape, the nipples crushed beneath the uncaring metal, tightening as they pulled on the nipple.

  "It hurts doesn't it, Kari? Just part of your punishment for cheating. It will teach you a lesson that you will carry with you throughout your life. But there is more,” each man yanked the chain painfully, her nipple suddenly crushed beneath the clover clamp, her breasts danced back and forth as they were stretched out of shape, her proud breasts mauled by the men. “Now, a little weight so you will remember the punishment,” Mr. Lafitte picked up two weights, each over a pound. He attached the weights to his end of the chain, Mr. Jamison doing a similar thing on the other side. “You ready, Mr. Jamison?"

  "Yes, most certainly,” he chuckled.

  Kari braced herself for the inevitable pain. Even she could not fathom the depths of their depravity as they released the weights, let them fall to the floor below the bench until the chains reached their end, Kari's nipples suddenly pulled out, the clover clamps tightening, her nipples painfully crushed beneath the unyielding metal. The weights put a continuous, painful pull on the clamp, her nipples stretched out an unnatural two inches, the pink flesh an angry red as it was crushed beneath the cruel devices. “GGGOD, that hurts soo baadd!” Her breath ragged as she tried to absorb all of the pain in her body, her breasts pulled from her body, the skin burned as if torn.

  Hands stroked her ass cheeks as she shuddered in pain, slid down her spread cheeks before moved to her pussy. The obscene spread of her legs, the arch of her ass left her spread wide open, hands took advantage of the opportunity to run over her pussy from behind. “Her tits might hurt, but her pussy is still wet. I have just the thing for her,” Mr. Lafitte brought out three sets of clamps. The first was a press-style clamp. Shaped almost in a square, a large screw in the center that adjusted the distance between the top clamp and the one on the bottom. If tightened too tight, it would literally crush anything between the clamps. The clamp had a short chain from which metal weights could be hung from it. The other two clamps were called Teeth of Pain; each clamp had five sharp fangs that would dig painfully into whatever was placed between the powerful jaws. Chains hung down that also allowed for weights. It was a good thing that Kari could not see what they looked like.