The Schooling of Carolyn [Academy for Discipline #1]

by Pearl Jones

  Jennifer said nothing, just cried her large crystal tears, clutching Jack as though the older woman were her only salvation. Above her head, her two tormentors shared a long, speaking glance; Jack hushed Jennifer, soothing her until she lay back on the couch.

  "Listen, you have to know you're stuck here. You made the agreement.” She waited for the slight nod. “So why not try to make the best of it? You said something about sororities? Well, think of me as your sister. Is there anything I can do?"

  Jennifer sniffed (delicately, Carolyn noted, and her lips pulling back from her teeth in a shockingly savage smile). “I don't, don't know. I just ... everyone's so mean here. They all keep telling me to do things, and not do things, and I just want to feel good."

  Carolyn had to step in. “I'm sure you do.” Jack winked at her, careful not to let Jennifer see. She lifted her chin almost imperceptibly, drawing Carolyn's attention to a form quietly entering the room. Candle, she mouthed, and shrugged.

  "This is useless,” Carolyn grated, winking back, “she's not even bright enough to ask for what she wants.” She'd seen the form, too, but was too bound up in her need to care. Her tutor could watch with the rest; she'd worry later. Now there was Jennifer, starry-eyed and hopeful as she looked at Jack, timidly quailing when Carolyn glared.

  "Anything,” Jack said again, “just tell me what."

  "I would,” Jennifer rushed to say, “but I don't know! I've never,” she dropped her head, looked up, the very picture of a young woman desperate to be loved, “never, you know?"

  Jack's eyes sparked. “Let me help you,” she husked, and pushed Jennifer back onto the couch. Smiling feraly, Carolyn moved to the back of the couch, waiting for the moment her tutor, or the man who had entered seconds later, would interrupt.

  And while she waited, she enjoyed the view. Jack was very good at what she did, her hands and mouth drawing responses from Jennifer's body like a master playing a violin. The younger girl never lost her hesitation, even when moaning in pleasure, still somehow innocent. Jack looked like she was in heaven, her face buried in Jennifer's breasts, when the tutor stood. Without saying a word, he drew Carolyn's attention.

  Easy enough; her body bent to his like a plant to the sun.

  His hand signals were explicit, obscene, and impossible to misunderstand. She nodded, and he sat down to watch the show. Carolyn didn't understand how, but Jack seemed to have seen the commands as well. Her attentions moved lower, and Jennifer began to gasp.

  "Oh. Ooh! Jack, I, I..."

  Carolyn laughed softly. She even sounds like Marilyn. She sat down on the arm of the couch, surprised to see that Jack had four fingers inside the younger girl, thrusting fast and hard, thumb playing the clit. One last hard stroke and Jennifer came, cooing like a dove.

  Jack looked up and nodded, eyes dancing with a pleasure Carolyn shared.

  Looks like her, too. Damn!

  Her fingers still curled inside, Jack murmured to the girl. “There, that's better, isn't it?"

  My turn. “All that fuss, and for what? If you just listened to your tutor..."

  Marilyn shook her head, eyes screwed shut. Tears crept free, soaking the couch. “I can't. I just can't. He's so mean!"

  "Little girl,” Carolyn purred, “you know nothing about mean. Move over, Jack. You might hold her hands."

  Later, she'd wonder what had happened to her, to make her so yearn to humiliate someone. Later, she'd ask herself if she was “turning gay,” or if it was just the aura of sex that permeated the place. Or if it was something particular to that girl. At the time, she thought nothing like that at all. Her tutor had looked at this woman with lust in his eyes; she'd seen it. And she couldn't even blame him; every man would. Every person. She'd been designed for sex, and she didn't seem to know it, and Carolyn yearned to teach her, as painfully as she could.

  She moved between Jennifer's legs, gripped the thighs hard, and where Jack had been a butterfly, Carolyn became a bee. She thrust as hard as she could with her tongue, rubbed it like sandpaper over the tender flesh, scraped her teeth over the clit, pursed her lips and sucked, and when the girl was writhing helplessly, bit down.

  She came, sobbing, begging, and Carolyn thrilled to hear the words. And when, seconds later, they were “discovered,” she went smiling to her fate. Jack winked at her, and she whispered back a single word: “candle."

  The game had been worth whatever the cost.

  * * * *

  She thought that still, later, but her knees shook as she stood before her tutor's desk.

  "Tell me,” he invited.

  Carolyn shrugged, then sighed, and tried to explain. “She looks like Marilyn Monroe, every man's fantasy. Soft, and unaware, and yearning. And she's annoying, always screaming and crying like that."

  "She hasn't been here all that long. Nor have you, freshman. The new ones are expected to cry a bit. Certainly you still do."

  Carolyn flushed, but smiled nonetheless. Her tutor made a point of punishing her at least every third time they met; she expected to cry when she went to him. And to shake with fear and longing on the way in, longing and exhaustion and pain on the way out again. “I try not to give the others headaches,” she replied.

  "So it was revenge?"

  "No. Not so simple as that.” She looked away, shame rising higher now, and uncertainty. And a consciousness of her words, having just begun elocution lessons. “I think,” she tried to work out what she was feeling as she spoke, “I think I'm jealous of her. I see the way you look at her, like you wonder what she'd feel like bent over your knee. I wanted to hurt her for the way she makes you react."

  "So you're jealous."

  "Which is a transgression. But that's not all."

  "You've transgressed in more ways than this? Do go on."

  "I enjoyed it. What I, we did to her. Which is a transgression."

  "It is indeed. Anything else?"

  "Well, I don't suppose her tutor will appreciate our interference with his project."

  "Indeed, no. Very well, then. Report tomorrow morning, first bell.” Carolyn rose to leave. “Oh, and Carolyn? Since you seem so very comfortable on stage these days, I'm sure walking back to your room naked but for your plugs won't bother you at all. Take the long way."

  She blushed, hands shaking as she unbuttoned her blouse. Her nipples were crinkled and tight. Always.

  * * * *

  Carolyn closed her eyes, and composed herself for sleep. The double plugs always seemed to grow just before bed, larger still first thing in the morning; it was hard for her not to squeeze around them, though she knew where that would lead. But her tutor had a number of ingenious deterrents to keep her from coming; tonight she was sleeping naked, spread-eagled, in the corridor. She could probably still come, tightening her inner muscles around the plugs, but there was no way she could do it unobserved, with proctors walking the halls, making their rounds. So she had to endure, aroused as she'd been since she came to this place.

  And wonder what new sensation the morning would bring.

  * * * *

  Her dreams were no match for the reality. Naked and freshly shaved, Carolyn and Jack were led by leashes to the dining hall. Jack wore a smile, Carolyn her usual blushes, as they followed their attendants to the stage. Carolyn's tutor made a pretty little speech, about the two “aspiring directors,” who had staged their own show without permission, and who would now serve a more useful purpose than “mere entertainment."

  "They shall shine brighter than any movie star, provide enlightenment for us all!” He snapped his fingers, and the attendants raised a curtain, revealing a frame. It was obviously made for two.

  Jack laughed, drawing all eyes to her. “Thank you, my master,” she whispered, and kneeled. Carolyn stared; she'd never realized who Jack's tutor was. And she had little idea of what was going on. What was the frame for, what happened when she was in it? What did he mean, enlightenment?

  Master?

  The tutor leaned in, kissed Jack's for
ehead, helped her to rise, and escorted her to the frame. Jack arranged herself with obvious familiarity, not even groaning as she stretched and strained. The attendants strapped her in, her limbs as far from one another as possible, back arched so that her head was nearly to her heels. And then they spun the cage, and helped Carolyn in.

  When she was fastened tight, groaning from the pain, the attendants collected harnesses and strapped them around the prisoners’ waists. And then came candelabras, specially designed. Instead of bases, they ended in dildos, inserted with no ceremony at all; the waist straps held the frame a bit away from skin. Not too very far. Carolyn shivered as she saw the candlewicks so close to her breasts; squeaked high in her throat when the one in back was fastened on. More candles were placed at her hands and feet, knees and elbows, and around Jack's, of course. And then they all were lit, and the torment began.

  It quickly became apparent that endurance would be key. The first time Carolyn shook, wax dripped from a candle, hit her thigh, and made her jump. That spilled more wax, which made her try to bend away, but that motion brought her breasts too close to flame.

  And then the vibrations began, the dildos activated by some unseen switch. Gentle at first, then stronger, then undeniable. Carolyn held herself as still as she possibly could, the threat of burning motivation to resist. But orgasm called, and her body struggled to answer. She gave in at last, screaming as the wax fell, riding the pain to ecstasy.

  On the other side of the frame, Jack danced her own climaxes. She hadn't even bothered to resist, her wax-splattered body writhing away.

  The students ate their dinner to the shivering light, leaving for evening classes or study only after the last candle guttered out. Jack and Carolyn hung in the frame, panting, smiling. Exhausted, but not quite satisfied.

  Their tutor had taught them too well for that.

  CHAPTER TEN

  MAKING MARILYN

  Carolyn stood with her tray in her hands, looking around the hall. Jack was out on assignment somewhere, had left the day after their “candlelit supper"; Sherry was nowhere to be seen. Tom was at a largely untenanted table, grinning; she wouldn't sit there.

  Jennifer was alone. Nodding to herself, Carolyn chose her seat.

  "Go away! Please! Wasn't,” she glanced toward the stage, “enough? Or did you like being strapped down and burned like that?"

  Carolyn chuckled at the question, knowing the answer was both yes and no. It had been well orchestrated, she hadn't really been burned, just scalded a touch by the wax. The marks had barely lasted a day. To Jennifer she said nothing but, “Eat. Starving yourself won't do anyone any good.” She picked up her own fork to set an example, but didn't taste a bite, too busy staring at Jennifer. Even the slope of her shoulders was pure Marilyn. Soft and delicate and begging to be claimed.

  Looking around the room, she spied her tutor, his glance on her table, but not on her. She saw red, remembering a day not long before. She'd been walking down the hall, trying to balance on five-inch heels, her posture further distorted by her new plug, extending deep within her and curling back toward her spine. She'd been tottering, much to her tutor's amusement, and both their arousal. And then his eyes had left her, ranging down the hall. To the sobbing pitiful little wretch he stared at now, that same look of lust in his eyes.

  She yearned to punish, not her tutor, but the object of his stare. How dare she take his attention away from me? But Jennifer was doing nothing but trying to choke down a meal. Carolyn gritted her teeth behind a fake friendly smile, and tried to get the younger woman to talk.

  When that didn't work, she went back to giving soft orders phrased as advice. “Spread your legs before some one sees you. Unless you want to be punished again.” And later, “Drink your water. You need the fluid, all the crying you do.” A brief flush stained the pale skin, fading almost instantly away. Carolyn had to bite her lip to keep from moaning her pride and pleasure at the sight. Blush, little girl, and shake. You have no idea what I'm going to do to you.

  In truth, she didn't know herself, just that Jennifer was going to pay for the way Carolyn's tutor looked at her.

  Only a few minutes remained before the bell to end the meal; Carolyn looked around for some way to keep Jennifer in the hall. A passing student caught her eyes; she flagged him down and sent him off for a milkshake. Students weren't supposed to order each other around, but quite often did, exchanging favors, trading tasks, or just exerting their wills. Carolyn had guessed he wouldn't refuse her; all the school was aware of the game she and Jack had begun, and were curious to know what would happen next.

  He was back in a wink with a chocolate shake in a fountain glass, topped with a puff of whipped cream and a cherry. Carolyn smiled and nodded her thanks as he set the dessert, with straw and long-handled sundae spoon, in front of Jennifer.

  The bell rang.

  "Do you have to be anywhere?"

  Jennifer bit her lip, shook her head, face downcast.

  "Look at people when they talk to you. It's in the rules, remember? Now, since you don't have class this evening, why don't you just sit here and drink your shake?"

  Wide crystal eyes gleaming with incipient tears, Jennifer nodded, pursed perfect lips around the straw, and began to suck. Carolyn had to look away herself, before she came.

  Oh, my. What has become of me? In the few short months she'd been at the Academy, Carolyn's responses had changed quite a bit, humiliation now as arousing to her as it was hated, anal stimulation often a positive joy; this, though, was still strange to her. She thrilled at the thought of this woman obeying her command.

  What have I become, that I long to see her in pain, on her knees before me? But though she might wonder, it was her desire, faced with the sight of this soft, fragile creature. To see her on her knees, weeping those giant tears, desperate to climax, begging for permission. Begging her.

  "Your legs are closed again.” Carolyn's voice was husky. Jennifer's eyes went wide, and her thighs spread open wide so fast the skirt made a snapping sound as it strained. “Good.” The milkshake was gone, only the cherry left at the bottom, resting on a soft deflated cushion of half-whipped cream. “Eat your cherry.” It'll be good practice for later.

  They sat in silence for a moment. “You said you didn't have to be anywhere. Is there anything you were told to do?"

  Again the quick flush and pale. A nod. A whisper. “I, my tutor said,” the rest of the words were too soft for Carolyn to hear. She insisted that the younger woman repeat herself, and a third time before she finally understood. “He told me to sit here with my thumb up my butt."

  "Well, then,” Carolyn purred, “What are you waiting for?"

  Again the tears spilled over the beautiful face. “I can't!"

  The feel of the air changed, or perhaps it was a sound she didn't realize she'd heard, but something made Carolyn turn. Her tutor stood with another man of commanding presence, close enough to see, to hear, far enough away to go unobserved. The looks in their eyes filled her with unreasoning jealousy—and a certain dark sympathy. She knew how they felt when they looked at Jennifer, felt that way herself, yet still blamed the girl for making her tutor stare.

  "I told you, little girl, don't lie to me. You can. You may not want to, but that's no concern of mine.” Holding Jennifer's chin in her hand, she brought her face down to the seated girl. “You can, and you will. Now, open that pretty mouth of yours and suck on your thumb. Or stick it in dry, for all I care."

  She stood back (to make sure the men could see), sneered down, and waited. Frame shaking with her sobs, Jennifer slowly brought her hand to her face, began to suck her thumb. Carolyn let her take a minute, then spoke sharply. “Enough. You have your instructions. Do it. Now."

  Jennifer jumped, looked, pleading, up at Carolyn. Her shoulders slumped in defeat at what she saw. She pulled her thumb out of her mouth with a pop, dropped her hand down between her outspread thighs. Frowned daintily. Slid forward on the bench, then stopped, her expression almo
st comical.

  "Turn this way."

  Jennifer followed Carolyn's gesture, turned to straddle the bench, lay back on it. Her thumb merely damp by now, she pushed her lacy underwear aside, put the tip at her back entrance, and began to squeal.

  Without pushing the digit inside.

  "Well?"

  Jennifer screwed her face up, shook her head from side to side. The finger didn't move.

  "You have your instructions,” Carolyn said again. And sharply, “Now!"

  That worked. Jennifer jumped, and yelped as her nail scratched over her sphincter, then set her thumb to her most secret entrance and pushed resolutely. Panting and grunting indelicately, she forced her thumb all the way in, until there was nowhere left to go, then stopped, relief and discomfort warring in her face and body.

  "You're not finished yet, little girl,” Carolyn laughed. “Repeat your instructions aloud."

  "I am supposed to sit here with my thumb up my butt until he comes for me."

  "And are you?"

  Jennifer frowned her confusion.

  "Are you sitting?"

  Comprehension bled what little color she had from her face, and she struggled to sit up.

  Carolyn stood back and watched, not even thinking to help. Jennifer jiggled delightfully. Her tutor crooked a finger, and Carolyn nodded, but paused. “Good,” she told Jennifer. “It's easier if you follow instructions. Don't forget to keep your legs open, and your chin up.” And then she walked to her tutor, hips swaying wide, desperate to come, though she knew it was not allowed.

  The look in those wide eyes! Fear, and confusion, and gratitude. And pain, of course. Can't forget the pain.

  * * * *

  "Enjoyed yourself last night, did you?"

  "Yes, sir.” Carolyn saw no point to lying. She had, though she wasn't quite sure why.

  "Did you know, that's the first order she's obeyed without punishment? In all the time she's been here, that's the very first time."

  "Why is she here, if I may ask? She doesn't seem to enjoy it the least bit."

  "She doesn't, does she? And yet, she passed the tests.” Her tutor frowned into the distance, leaving Carolyn to her thoughts. He shrugged after a long moment, and shook his head.