School of Discipline: The Complete Trilogy: Victorian BDSM Erotica

by Anna Austin

  Professor Harker scissored his fingers, stretching me and playing with all the wetness my pussy had managed to conjure up. I moaned, and he crooked his fingers inside of me, touching a place that, up until that very moment, I hadn't known even existed. The feeling was indescribable - my whole body seized up, muscles taut, and I couldn't control the debauched sound that left my lips. He rubbed that spot over and over until I was seeing stars.

  And all of a sudden, the fingers were removed, leaving me gasping and panting against the desk, my disappointing breasts trembling as my chest strained, my heart pounding hard. I was shaking all over, my body jelly-like and weak. I wanted more of that feeling - I was about to beg for it before I remembered that I was supposed to retain at least a little bit of dignity.

  Just as I thought I had regained enough composure to push myself up off of the desk and back onto my feet, Professor Harker spanked me again, causing the class to burst out in a fit of laughter. He hit me again and again, over and over until I was certain that I was going to lose consciousness. My feet were no longer touching the floor, I was slid up onto the desk, bent completely in half.

  "Selena - do you know why you're being punished right now?" He asked, and I didn't think I had it in me to formulate a response that would stop him from hurting me.

  "Because I can't please my husband?"

  Evidently this was the wrong answer, seeing as he brought his hand down to strike me again. I screwed my eyes shut, pussy throbbing at the pain, My toes brushed against the floor, and my breasts ached as they were pressed up against the desk. The class was still laughing at me, and I wanted it all to stop - I wanted something inside of me again.

  "Selena, I'm punishing you this time because you had the nerve to enjoy your previous punishment." Professor Harker stated. I braced myself, fearing that he'd strike me again, but no wave of pain washed over me. Instead, the sound of a school bell graced my ears. I wanted to stand, but Professor Harker held me down against the desk by the small of my back.

  The girls were getting up to leave, and I struggled against the hand that was keeping me in place.

  "You're not going anywhere, Selena. I want to speak to you in private."

  The last student closed the door behind her, and I was loath to realize that I was all alone in a room with a man who wanted nothing more than to punish me for my shortcomings as a woman.

  "Selena - despite being married, you haven't let your husband have his way with you, is that right?"

  Ashamed, I managed to nod, turning my head to the side in order to make eye contact with the Professor.

  "That's a horrible thing for a woman to do. Women are supposed to be used. You're supposed to be able to bear his child, after all."

  I averted my gaze, feeling utterly ashamed.

  "I don't feel as though my punishment has taught you enough of a lesson. There's something else I need from you."

  "What's that?"

  "Your virginity."

  My mouth popped open - I didn't want to give this man, a man who was supposed to be teaching me, my virginity. I was supposed to give my first time to Peter, and though we had attempted it many times, I hadn't ever felt ready. And now it was too late.

  "Don't try to struggle." Professor Clark ordered, his hand still pressing me down against the desk. I heard him unzipping his pants with his free hand, and I was horrified when I looked over my shoulder and saw his hard cock spring free from its fabric confines. It was far bigger than Peter's, so it was bound to hurt.

  It was thick and veiny, and there was a bead of precum at the tip. In a twisted way, I was turned on by the fact that I had managed to arouse Professor Harker that much. I balled my hands into fists on the desk, still observing him. He removed the hand that was holding me down, bringing it to rest on my hip.

  "This will hurt." He stated calmly, as though he were simply teaching me a lesson. "It's all part of the punishment, so you're going to have to put up with it."

  "Your pussy is so wet - why haven't you let your husband use it?"

  "It's- I've had trouble-"

  "You've had trouble getting wet for him, and yet a few spanks and you're dripping for my cock? What a little whore you are, Selena. You really do deserve this."

  Humiliated, I resigned myself to my fate. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hoped desperately that Professor Harker would be able to hit that spot inside of me again, that spot that had made me tense up and scream. I wanted it so badly that I began to sway my hips in spite of myself. I must've looked like a proper slut, but Professor Harker didn't take the opportunity to insult me again.

  Instead, he lined himself up with my entrance, teasing my hole with the head of his thick cock. Unlike all the times Peter had attempted this, Professor Harker managed to have me moaning just from the teasing alone. I pushed my hips back, needy and wanting, and he dug those sharp nails of his into the flesh of my hips. I bit my lip - Peter didn't need to find out about this! It was his fault that I was sent here, after all.

  Slowly, I was filled up. Professor Harker's dick was far too large for my tight pussy, but he forced it in anyways. He stretched me out, making me bleed and cry and shake - he didn't stop no matter how much I begged. I writhed around beneath him, pained in ways I hadn't known were possible. It was all too much, too fast - but I knew that all I could do was endure.

  "It's surprising to think that a slut like you could be this tight-" He gasped, finally pushing all the way inside of me. My mouth hung open, eyes rolling back up into my head as my body struggled to adjust to all the new, painful sensations. My knuckles were white and my spine arched as I tried to move my hips against him.

  The pain began to fade as he paused for a moment, allowing me to adjust, but before I was ready, he pulled out and shoved himself back inside of me all at once, causing me to let out a sound I hadn't even known I was capable of making. I was crying, but there was a part of me that thought it felt great to be used like this.

  He thrust in and out of me at an alarming pace, and before I knew it, he lifted me up by the hips, allowing him to have an easier angle of entry. This new angle meant that every time he pounded into me, the tip of his cock rubbed against that one perfect, lovely spot. My eyes were wide open, I was utterly slack-jawed, and spilling forth from my lips were noises of the most unholy variety.

  He fucked me harder than I had ever imagined was possible, and my petite frame felt like nothing more than a sleeve for his cock. I hated to admit it, but I loved this feeling - I felt like a doll in his arms as I allowed him to ravage me, to take the only thing of value that I had left.

  Soon, my muscles began to tense up, and I knew that I was nearing my climax. I could only beg for more, my hips twitching and grinding down against his cock like the hips of an absolute whore. My eyelids fluttered shut as I braced myself, his dick still deep in me, churning up my insides, fucking me hard until I was completely loose.

  "Sir, please-" I begged.

  "Hm?"

  "Let me cum-"

  He didn't stop his thrusts, but he dug his nails in even deeper. It was painful, but it only served to heighten my sense of arousal. "Only if you let me cum inside of you."

  I was far too gone to think about the consequences of my actions. I nodded desperately, wanting release so badly that I was willing to do just about anything.

  His thrusts grew erratic, and the next time his cock rubbed up against that perfect, perfect spot, I was sent into the throes of passion, twitching against the desk, my hips spasming as I rode out that mindblowing orgasm. My whole body was tensed up, my toes curled and my back arched, and then it was all replaced with a warm, relaxed sensation as I felt something warm inside of me.

  Professor Harker's hips snapped forward as my no-longer virginal pussy milked him of all his cum. I knew that there could be major consequences for letting him do this to me, but I felt too good to care about it. He released his grip on me, pulling out and letting the excess cum spill from my pussy and onto the floor.

&nb
sp; I was breathing heavily, basking in the afterglow of orgasm, when that commanding voice filled up the room once more.

  "Clean yourself up. Get dressed. There's a class in this room in ten minutes." He snapped, spanking my sensitive ass one more time before stepping away to regain his composure. I caught my breath, sucking in as much oxygen as I could muster, before standing upright again.

  "Thank you, sir." I murmured sheepishly.

  "Don't thank me for punishments, Selena." He sighed, zipping his trousers back up and handing me the blouse and bra that I'd discarded earlier. "You're one step closer to becoming a real woman now." He smirked.

  "Please don't tell my husband that you took my virginity." I pleaded.

  "Oh, don't worry - he already knows. If he sent you to St. Severine's, he was expecting something like this to happen." Professor Harker grinned. "This school is certainly one-of-a-kind."

  I hung my head, feeling ashamed that Peter thought me so inexperienced and sexually inadequate that he would willingly send me to a place like this. But then I realized that I might be punished again tomorrow - suddenly, things were looking up.

  Taming Tabitha

  It was only my first night at Saint Severine's School for Turbulent Girls, and I was already planning my escape.

  Frankly, I was still furious that my mother and father had sent me here in the first place. The whole thing was a jolly rotten trick, that was for certain. They said that I was unruly and unladylike, and that I need firm discipline. They said that if I didn't change my ways, I would never find a husband and that I would end up a old maid. They told me that the way I had behaved towards the young gentlemen who had come to court me had been uncalled for, disgusting and a disgrace to my family. The cheek of it!

  Very well, I admit that when that fat little toad Lord Smorley had come round to call I had emptied a chamber-pot onto his head from the upstairs window. But the odious little cretin deserved it. On the first occasion he had come calling he had taken me for a walk in the garden, and 'accidentally on purpose' brushed his hand against my bottom. That had earned him a firm slap across the face, but then the worm had the gall to come calling again. Well, he got what he deserved, and it was damned funny besides, seeing how red with fury he turned with piss dripping through his hair and onto his neatly tailored suit. I didn't regret a thing.

  Then there had been the Honorable Arthur Wedgewood. Good God, he was probably the most stupid man I had ever met in my life. Perfectly handsome of course, and with impeccable manners. But not a single thought of any interest had ever bothered his tiny mind. Trying to engage him in conversation was like talking to a block of wood. Only less interesting.

  Anyway, he had got off lightly. I had simply told him to his face that I could never marry a man who was a first-class cretin. This was grossly offensive, according to my parents. Hypocrites! When I was a child hadn't they always told me that honesty was a virtue?

  But it was the incident with Captain Ramsey Doyle that was the straw that broke the camel's back and prompted my exile. He was persistent, I'll give him that. Seven times he came calling to press his suit. And seven times he bored me with endless stories of his 'exploits' when he was posted with the Royal Dragoons in India. Not that he'd seen any fighting. All the action took place on the polo field.

  I had tried to tell him that I had no interest in horses, or polo, or what hilarious comment Major Such-and-Such had made to Colonel Whatever over a gin and tonic after the match. But he was the sort of man with whom it was impossible to get a word in edgeways. So, on the occasion of his eight visit, just as he was describing yet another bloody polo match, I had picked up the heavy wrought-iron poker from the fireplace, and smacked him over the head with it.

  Well, what a fuss! You'd have thought that'd I'd murdered the man! Alright, there was quite a lot of blood, and he was unconscious for quite a long time. But he woke up eventually, and there was no lasting damage.

  As I told my father, far worse injuries are sustained in polo matches.

  I had thought this rather witty. But my dear papa had not. The next day, he had called me into his study, and told me my fate.

  “Tabitha, we've had enough. Someone needs to tame you, and your mother and I are at our wit's end. We're sending you away to Saint Severine's School for Turbulent Girls. They will hopefully teach you the error of your ways. You leave tomorrow.”

  Well, I made quite the scene. I yelled and swore, I stamped on the floor and banged on the walls. I called my father every name under the sun. But he was unmoved. The next day my carriage was waiting, my bags packed. I had considered running away, but I had nowhere to go and no resources to fall back on. Reluctantly, I had decided to give in. After all, how bad could this place really be? If they thought they could tame me, then they had another thing coming!

  One day at Saint Severine's had been enough for me to wish I had taken my chances and made a run for it.

  The first thing that made me raise my eyebrows were the uniforms. I had expected them to be modest and ladylike. Not a bit of it. The skirt that I was told to put on when I arrived barely covered my bottom, and I was not even provided with tights or stockings to cover my bare legs. The shirt was about two sizes too small, but when I asked for another I was told it was supposed to be like that – tight. When I put it on it pressed my breasts together and made them bulge upwards. To make things worse, there was no top button, meaning that I was very much on display. At first I thought this must be some kind of bizarre punishment, or perhaps an initiation for newcomers. But then I saw some of the other girls. They were all dressed in the same way. Like whores.

  All of these things were alarming. It was clear to me that Saint Severine’s was not a normal school. But it was what I witnessed in my first lesson there that made up my mind to escape.

  The lesson was mathematics, with an old bore of a Master called Professor Knott. He was a stern looking type, clearly a disciplinarian. Despite having no interest whatsoever in algebra I was doing my best to get through the tedious exercises he had set us, having decided that it would be wise to keep my head down until I had properly got the measure of the place.

  After about half an hour of the whole class of girls silently doing sums, with Knott sitting at the desk glaring at us, there was a clatter and a crash from behind me. One of the girls who was sitting two rows back had knocked her ink pot onto the floor, smashing it to pieces. Dark ink was spreading in a puddle across the hard stone floor, and there was no doubt that it would make a stain.

  I looked up at Professor Knott. Some of my old teachers would have lost their temper at a time like this, but Knott seemed entirely calm Indeed, his lips turned upwards to make a thin smile.

  “Jessica, how could you be so clumsy? A lady should be graceful at all times. And knocking your ink all over the floor is hardly graceful, is it?”

  Jessica was a pretty girl of perhaps twenty, with luxuriant locks of red-hair. At this juncture she was blushing fiercely, her face almost as red as her scarlet tresses.

  “No Sir. I’m sorry Sir,” she mumbled.

  Knott was still smiling. “Sorry is hardly good enough, is it? You know the rules. You must be disciplined. Come here, please.”

  Shamefaced, Jessica stood up and walked the front of the classroom. I assumed that he would perhaps rap her across the knuckles with a ruler, or perhaps take a cane to her ankles. But I was wrong.

  I watched in astonishment as the red-headed girl spread herself across Professor Knott’s knees, bottom pointing upwards. My astonishment continued to grow as he pulled her skirt up and her panties down, revealing her bare arse.

  I looked from side to side, expecting the other girls in the class to be just as aghast as I was. Instead, there seemed to be an air of excitement in the room. I could see some of my classmates leaning forward for a better look, and I heard the girl behind me whisper.

  “A spanking! How wonderful.”

  What on God’s earth was going on? I turned my attention back to the
bizarre spectacle that was unfolding in front of me.

  Jessica’s panties were now around her ankles. Her bottom was smooth and white, but Professor Knott’s gnarly hand was now hovering over it, and I suspected that it would not remain unmarked for long.

  Slap!

  His hand descended, hard, landing a considerable blow across Jessica’s buttocks. She gave a little shriek, and one or two of the girls in the class gave little yelps too, as though it was they who were on the receiving end.

  Slap!

  Another blow landed, this one even harder than the first. Jessica gave another little scream, and her pale bottom was already turning red. Now she had a red arse to go along with her red hair and red face.

  Slap! Slap! Slap!

  The spanking continued unabated. Blow after blow rained down on Jessica’s backside. Professor Knott seemed well practised, each blow landing on the same spot at regular intervals. His precision was impressive, although I suppose that one would expect no less from a mathematics master.

  Slap! Slap! Slap!

  Something strange was happening. Jessica’s cries had turned into groans. And they sounded more like groans of pleasure than groans of pain. Somehow, the red-headed girl was enjoying her brutal spanking. How could that be?

  There was no mistaking now. The sound her moans and sighs now filled the classroom, drowning out the sound of Knott’s hand slapping into her bare arse. She was wriggling about on his lap, not trying to escape, but with what seemed like the wanton abandon of wicked and insatiable lust.

  I looked around me again. The other girls were watching, bright eyed and attentive. The girl next to me, Jane, saw me looking and caught my eyes. She smiled at me and licked her lips.