Kink (Filthy Stories)

by Sable Drake

  I talked to Cindy about it, and we agreed that a new start in a new location was the best thing we could do.

  I hated to part with my cabin, but Cindy was never comfortable there, given the bitter memories it contained. So, I sold it and we pulled up stakes for Nashville.

  It's been everything I could have hoped for. I've got more work now than I know what to do with, I've gotten to play with some of the biggest names in the business, and Cindy helps me keep my books. We spend as much time as we can together, and with the girls.

  A few months ago, I formally adopted Sarah and Mary, so now I really am their daddy.

  And last week, Cindy came home with a surprise. She had decided not long after we moved to Nashville to have her tubal ligation reversed, and that day she brought home the welcome news that she's pregnant.

  So, I'm finally going to have a child of my own with the woman I've loved since the first time I saw her.

  Cindy and I went through hell to get to where we are today, with everything we always wanted. But now we can look ahead, and hopefully we'll have a long, happy life together.

  I think we earned it.

  ###

  Punished at St Sade

  I went to boarding school at the Convent of St Sade where rigid discipline was very much at the centre of life. No-one knows more about punishment than nuns and correct behaviour was enforced by pain and humiliation. All of us girls came from the sort of home where our school holidays were spent under the watchful eye of our parents, and there was definitely no opportunity to meet boys during term time. So, I am fairly certain we were all virgins. I know I was. Of course I knew the mechanics of sex and where he put his horrible thing up inside you, but the thought of a boy doing that horrified most of us and none of us had actually seen an example of the organ in question. We were told that when we became married we would do our duty in allowing our husbands to do what they needed.

  Modesty was seen as very important. When we undressed for bed in the dorm, we would always pull on our nightdress before reaching up inside it to remove our knickers. When we changed for gym, we would face the wall so there was no chance of anyone seeing our breasts or, heaven forbid, anything "down there." Of course facing the wall meant that one's curved girlish buttocks and the unspeakable dirty slot between them were facing into the room but, as all the other girls were facing the wall, no one should even see our bottoms. When we went to the showers, we were wrapped in our towels until we were between the individual partition walls in the showers, which came up to our necks.

  If any girl did take an unhealthy interest in one's body it would be our duty to report her to the nuns. We were all encouraged to inform on our friends because, if you saw your friend going wrong, it was your duty to report her so that she could be punished and corrected. Otherwise, you would be guilty of the same sin.

  Despite all these controlling measures, we were all normal healthy, growing girls with the attendant passions. When you could not resist–that is, when you found your hand going where we could not even mention in bed–you had to make sure you were under the covers in the dark and you kept silent and prayed the bed did not creak. If one of the other girls heard you pleasuring yourself, she might report you and then you would have to stand up in Assembly and tell the whole school what you had done. This would probably be followed by a very thorough caning with you stretched over the table and facing the school so that they did not see your bare bottom when you were bent over with your skirt raised and your knickers around your ankles. The staff sat on the platform in Assembly, so all the staff, some of whom were men would see your bare behind and the vivid red stripes across the white flesh. Of course, being seen red faced with your nose running and tears streaming down your cheeks as you kicked your feet and begged for mercy was so deeply humiliating that it added to the pain of the caning.

  I had never experienced such punishment. The closest I ever came to it was having to hold marbles in my mouth all day for talking too much. That's when I started a secret journal where I could write all the words that threatened to spill from my lips each day. Write them in a torrent of thought and desire and surprise and loathing. Much the way I talked, come to think of it.

  The Headmistress was Reverend Mother, a very strict and severe woman who had been a nun since she was sixteen. She had definitely never been troubled by unnatural urges of the flesh. There were, as has been said above, some men on the staff. Some were ordained priests and some were not. I guess crushes between girls and staff of either gender may have happened, but the consequences of these becoming known do not bear thinking about.

  It was against this backdrop that I made my big mistake. I suppose that I was on a high having turned eighteen that week, and I had happened upon the word "lesbian" in a dictionary. You will think me very immature for an eighteen year old, but you have to remember the sheltered world in which we were all kept. Our television and reading material were very strictly controlled, and most of us hardly knew anything. Well, at tea time I was giggling with my friends around our table, and I said that I thought Sister Fortitude was probably a lesbian. How could I have been so stupid, stupid, stupid?

  Of course, one of them was bound to inform on me, and the axe fell at breakfast the following morning. As I came into the refectory with the rest of my dorm, Sister Patience bustled over to me and told me to have a drink of orange juice and then hurry to Reverend Mother's study. For a moment, I froze in horror. I was being summoned to Reverend Mother's room and was not even being allowed breakfast. By then, I had forgotten my scandalous remarks of the day before, so I had no idea of the reason for my summons. I knew, however, it could only be bad. The other girls said nothing as I gulped down a glass of juice and then practically ran out of the refectory fearful of keeping Mother waiting.

  I stood in front of the ornately carved oak door trying to control my panting and making sure that my hair was not straggling over my face. I knocked and heard her commanding voice bid me enter. She was sitting behind her huge desk and did not ask me to sit, so I stood with my hands entwined just below my waist. Reverend Mother did not waste any time coming to the point. She spoke about the sins of gossip and false witness and coarse language. Of course, with every word she spoke I felt more and more wretched. She made me sound like the Whore of Babylon. Then she paused before pronouncing sentence.

  "You are to be sent to do penance in the annex."

  My mouth fell open, and I thought I was going to faint. She might as well have punched me in the stomach. The annex was a self-contained part of the school building down in the East Wing. It was reached by a cold gothic stone passage, through a huge arched oak door which was always kept locked. The domain of fear was presided over by Father Worthy and Sister Penitence, who was a grim faced and terrifying nun. Father Worthy was a huge man with a red face. If he so much as looked at you he made you want to back away. His eyes seemed to bore right into you stripping away all your clothes. He gave the impression that he could see right into your mind and was disgusted by what he saw.

  Some girls had gone to the annex and never been seen, or even spoken of, again. Most girls did return from their penance, but none of them would ever say a word about what happened there. Some girls had been sentenced to spend every weekend in the annex, and on Friday evening before going to knock on the terrible door, they would be really quiet and withdrawn.

  My shocked and befuddled mind was dimly aware that Mother was still speaking. I forced myself to try to take in what she was saying. It seemed that before being taken to the annex I was to be made an example to the rest of the school and, in Reverend Mother's mind, the punishment would fit the crime.

  "And, as you have tried to undermine Sister Fortitude's dignity by your slander you, in turn, will find what it means to lose your dignity. You will now remove your clothing."

  My arms, of their own volition, went across my chest in defence and my mouth fell open in horror. Surely she could not mean that I was to undress right here in fron
t of her in the middle of her study. She raised her voice in command.

  "If you continue to disobey me, I will have Father Worthy undress you on the platform in Assembly."

  Driven by the fear of having that man touch me, I stripped off my red cardigan and placed it on a chair. Then, I pulled off my tie and it joined the cardigan. Anxious to obey the command of the woman who was silently watching my every move, my fingers fumbled open the buttons on my white blouse and put the garment on the chair. I now felt very exposed with lots of bare pale skin showing and my neat little breasts only protected by the white regulation school-issue bra.

  Stealing a glance at the woman who was looking at me with utter contempt, I knew I had to further expose myself. Miserably, I reached behind, which only pushed my breasts out, to unfasten the grey skirt and let it fall. Now I was just in white knee socks and my white bra together with my regulation white cotton knickers. I had to stoop to pick up my skirt and place it on the chair and, as I did so, I was very aware of showing my cleavage to the hawkish pedagogue behind the big oak desk.

  Although her instruction to undress had been clear, I could not imagine she meant me to uncover any more of my body. I stood facing her with my fingers woven together in front of the slight, puffy swell between my legs. No-one had seen me so unprotected except the school doctor who made annual inspections, and I even hated exposing my body to the doctor since keeping covered had been so ingrained into every girl in the school.

  Her voice was level and terrifying as she spoke.

  "You have not finished doing what you were told to do, girl, and my patience with your disobedience is beginning to wear very thin."

  I knew that the command carried within it a threat of more punishment and, as my self-respect drained, I reached behind to my bra clasp. As I pulled the straps from my shoulders the garment came away, and I felt the cold air on my nipples. I was aware of a very uncomfortable tingling there as I placed the warm bra on the chair and forced my hands go to the sides of my knickers and push them downwards.

  My face was burning as I exposed my little furry triangle to the woman's eyes, and I was aware that the embarrassing hair did nothing to cover the fleshy lips between my thighs. I also shed my shoes and socks, wishing I'd thought to take them off first, since bending now exposed my bum.

  Reverend Mother stood and came around the desk.

  "Have you not learned to fold your clothes, child?"

  "Yes. Reverend Mother. Sorry, Reverend Mother."

  I bent to fold each garment, painfully aware of nudity. To my intense alarm, my nipples had swollen. I had a terrible urge to caress them to ease the discomfort, but I knew I could not do that. There was also a tightness between my legs which was growing.

  When there was a neat pile of folded laundry on the chair, Reverend Mother ordered me to fold my arms behind my back and hold my elbows in my hands. As soon as I had adopted the humiliating position, she strode to the door and opened it.

  "Come with me."

  This was too much. I fell to my knees on the carpet.

  "Please, Reverend Mother, don't make me go out into the corridor. I can't go out there like this. Please."

  She moved like lightning toward me, and I never saw the slaps coming. Her hand caught me across the left cheek and then zipped back onto the right making, my face sting, my ears ring, and my eyes water. The anger in her voice was terrifying.

  "Get up right now and come with me!"

  It was impossible to withstand the force of her command. I stood, placed my arms behind me and walked into the corridor with her. Girls were trooping into Assembly and, of course, they all gawped at my naked body. Some gasped and others giggled with their hands over their mouth. The air was full of whispering. In utter misery, I walked beside Reverend Mother into the hall and up the steps onto the platform where she positioned me at the side of the stage facing my peers.

  I was looking at my toes and trying to make the tensions in my nipples and down there go away as Reverend Mother opened the Assembly. Then she began to speak about me. Every word was like a whiplash as she told the whole school what a disgusting creature I was and how I needed correction for my own good and to discourage any girl who might be in danger of becoming like me. Toward the end of the discourse, when I was having to work really hard at not sobbing out loud, she put her hand into the pocket of her habit and took out a large white bar of school soap. She advanced upon me, telling the school about the penalty for filthy speech, and she ordered me to open my mouth.

  Of course, I obeyed. She thrust the soap into my mouth and commanded me to bite down. A ripple of laughter ran around the hall and then Assembly continued with songs, prayers, and notices as I stood naked, exposed and totally humiliated. But she was not done with me yet, as I discovered at the end of Assembly.

  "Because Tara has chosen to use her tongue for such filthy purposes, she will be denied the gift of speech for the rest of the day. She will spend the day in humiliation in the hope that she learns not to repeat her offences."

  The whole school knew the traditional way of denying speech and, sure enough, the cast iron scold bridle was brought from the back of the platform. It was made of black strips of metal and looked rather like a domed bird cage. The thick band around the base hinged open and when it was swung shut the thick, iron tongue welded to the inside was forced between the lips of the unfortunate wearer. Rev Mother removed the soap from my mouth leaving evil tasting foam filling my mouth and then the dome went over my head. The cold metal invaded my mouth, and the device was padlocked shut, the lock hanging from the front of the base band. Because of the domed structure going over my head like a helmet, I was forced to look at the world through the bars as my mouth was held wide open by the iron between my teeth.

  I was made to stand naked and bridled as the whole school filed past me, and then Reverend Mother told me to go to join my classmates. I was instructed to follow my normal school timetable but, of course, I would not be taking part in any discussions in class or during breaks.

  The first lesson was French with Sister Patience and, of course, I arrived last and had to slip into my place as the lesson began. Someone had placed my book bag beside my chair. The wooden chair was cold and it stuck to the skin of my buttocks. Whenever I tried to move, I made a rude sound as my skin came free of the wood, which made my classmates giggle. I cannot describe how it felt to be sitting there with my naked nipples pointing at Sister Patience at the front of the class, but the thought was beginning to fill my mind that the next lesson was maths with Mister Turner. I was certain that I would die of embarrassment.

  Well, eventually the lesson ended with all the girls around me putting up their hands and answering questions while I sat mute with all that humiliating ironwork locked on my head. I knew that I would have to stand up and walk out of the room showing once again my dark secret hair and my most private place down there. My heart was pounding as I stood. My bum had again stuck to the chair. It came free with a loud noise and a tearing sensation, which made me squeal into my iron gag.

  Two girls behind me giggled.

  "She's got a red bum as if she's been spanked."

  "Well, she should be spanked for running around with nothing on like that. She's lewd."

  Of course, I could not answer them. My heart was still pounding as I made my way to the maths room where I would meet Mister Turner the youngish maths master. How could I possibly bear him looking at my naked body? And, to make it worse, I was damp between my legs and my nipples were standing out like two tiny red pearls. As I went into his room, I held my book bag in front of me and hurried to sit down.

  "Tara's in my place, Sir."

  "Tara, you know where your seat is. Move so Jenny can sit down."

  Feeling foolish, I moved my seat once more, giving his eyes another good look at my body. We did a practical exercise which involved measuring the room with yardsticks and tapes, and Mister Turner made me move around the room helping with this. I had to hold one en
d of the tape. This involved crouching as well as reaching right up into the top corner of the room. When I was on tiptoe at full stretch, every detail of my body showed.

  Laura, on the other end of the tape, took so long to write down the measurement that I wondered if she was purposely prolonging my humiliation. I was so embarrassed that I fumbled and dropped the tape. I bent down to retrieve the tape and returned to my horribly exposed position until Laura finished. Then, when I was allowed to move, I stumbled over a waste bin and blundered into a desk causing it to bang into Susan, who screamed in pain. Mister Turner happened to be holding a wooden yardstick at the time, and he brought it down with all his strength across my naked buttock, making me scream into my gag and cut my mouth in the process. Of course, the whole class laughed.

  He spoke to me angrily.

  "Tara, if you cannot do anything constructive, you will spend the rest of the lesson standing on that chair at the back of the room."

  Miserably, I climbed onto the chair with my face to the wall. He told me to turn around so that I could still see the blackboard, and so that he could see the front of my body. So, there I stood for the rest of the lesson, balancing on the seat of the chair. Because I was at the back of the room, they all had their backs to me, although several girls could not help turning around to steal a peep. Mister Turner was facing me the whole time and enjoying an uninterrupted view. I kept my hands clasped in front of my bush, and I could not keep my palm from pressing into my mound. It made standing still quite an effort. I have to admit that I felt a certain degree of pride to see the definite bulge in the front of Mister Turner's trousers and to know that it showed he was being affected by me. This pride was tinged with a little fear as I was fairly sure that his filthy male mind was imagining doing unspeakable things to me.

  After an absolute age, the bell signalled the start of break, and the girls trooped out. I was made to stay in place until they had all gone, then Mister Turner gave me permission to follow the others. This meant I had to walk the length of an empty classroom under his lustful eyes.