Slaves to the Girlspell

by William Avon

  Yet it was really happening and she was hoping it would work. From what Jemima had told them, simple straightforward sex was the last thing Sue had been having. The kisses might help as well. Amber felt proud about having taught the boys about them. Sue must be hungry for such simple pleasures. Judging by the state of her, the sooner they got her out of Arabella’s clutches the better. She really would be better off belonging to the boys. Not that Amber could blame Arabella for wanting to keep Sue. She had that special vulnerable beauty that just begged to be mastered...

  Amber shook her head, but she couldn’t deny the excitement the idea had roused within her. She wanted Sue as well... as her own slave.

  She glanced at Jemima.

  The girl was watching the hard cocks ramming into her friend with unblinking, hungry, fascination. Amber realised that the thing Jemima most wanted at that moment was to be in Sue’s place receiving the same treatment. She’d offer up her virginity on a plate to the boys without a second thought.

  What a crazy place this was.

  Gradually the fight was driven out of Sue and she lay unresisting in her chains as the boys pounded away between her legs. Perhaps it was simple exhaustion. Hopefully it was the automatic response of her nature to the boys’ attentions. Their honest lust for her must be more appealing than Arabella’s cold and frightening dominance.

  The last boy withdrew, leaving Sue dazed, slick with sweat and breathing heavily. Her pubic hair was matted with sperm and her already abused cunt lips were red and swollen. Jackson dragged Jemima forward once more.

  “Get her to see sense!” he hissed, glancing at his watch and calculating the time it would take them to get back to school. “We can’t wait any longer.”

  Jemima kissed Sue’s flushed cheek. “Please come with us, Sue. If you don’t Arabella might really hurt you. You know she doesn’t love you... but I do. We can be together. They’ll make us do all sorts of lovely, naughty things. Please?”

  Sue slowly turned her beautiful face to Jemima, searching her eyes in hope and wonder - and then burst into tears.

  It was the release of some inner emotional dam. The boys, still adjusting their trousers, actually looked embarrassed. She had been absolutely naked to them physically, but this was something deeper.

  Slowly the tears subsided. Sue turned to the boys, biting her lip in trepidation. “Please take me away from here,” she begged. “I’ll be very good, I’ll do anything you want.”

  The boys grinned.

  “Masters,” Amber said quickly. “It might confuse Arabella further if we take all of Sue’s things with us, including her bike downstairs. It’s what Sue would do if she got herself free and ran off. Arabella won’t know what’s happened to her then.”

  “Right, we’ll do it,” Jackson agreed. “Now get those chains off her.”

  As Amber set to work again she decided there was no need to mention that, if she guessed right, there was another of the puzzle box phalluses amongst Sue’s possessions.

  Jane was so stiff and numb when Sally finally removed the cucumber and released her from her spread-eagled position, that it was easy, if painful for her, to be arranged in a new and quite different posture.

  Jane groaned as she was re-bound, and asked plaintively: “Mistress, what are you doing now?”

  “Teaching you not to ask so many questions!” Sally said sharply. “Slaves don’t ask, they just obey. You talk too much. I’d better do something about that.” She finished tying her. “The sickroom’s next door, ain’t it?”

  “Yes, Mistress. But please don’t...”

  But Sally had already gone out of the door.

  The rescue party climbed wearily back up into the loft. Harris and Bickley, who’d been carrying Sue’s bike and loaded panniers, dumped them gratefully in a corner.

  Sue, a rope collar and leash round her neck and her hands bound behind her back, blinked uncertainly at her new home. She looked desperately tired, Amber thought. Of course, she’d had no proper exercise or sleep for days, either being worked to exhaustion or confined and bound for long hours. Her latest emotional wrench combined with the strain of the ‘rape therapy’ she had undergone and the walk back from the Hall had been almost too much for her.

  Jackson looked at his watch. “We’ll have to get back to the dorm and get some sleep. Sister’s going to have more jobs for us tomorrow.”

  “Leave Sue to us, Masters,” Amber said. “When you come back in the morning she’ll be ready and eager to serve you again.”

  The boys removed the girls’ harnesses and chained them by the ankles once again. They untied Sue’s ropes then kissed her in a suitably masterful fashion, holding her by the hair with one hand while clasping a handful of plump buttock with the other. They looked at each other, grinned, and took it in turns to kiss their other two slaves in the same fashion. Jemima blushed with delight, clearly considering kisses of that intimacy to be a major step forward on her road to adulthood.

  Then the boys climbed back down the ladder. The last sight they had was Sue’s curious expression as they closed and locked the trapdoor behind them.

  Weary but very content, the boys crossed the stretch of gravel to the fire escape and climbed back up to their dormitory. Once inside they stowed the rope ladder and pole behind the wall panel and changed by torchlight back into their pyjamas, conversing only in whispers. They were sure Sally was distracting Sister Newcombe as planned, but they didn’t want to risk making unnecessary noise.

  It was just as they were settling under the covers that, without any warning, the door of the dormitory swung open and the overhead light was switched on.

  They jerked upright with hearts leaping, only to see Sally, naked as the day she was born and brimming with brazen self-confidence, stride impatiently into the dormitory.

  “I thought you’d never get back,” she said. “How’d it go?”

  They goggled, momentarily lost for words, nonplussed by the sight of her. Inside the school, their own dormitory even, a naked girl seemed shocking. An acute sense of guilt and impropriety overcame them.

  “You can’t come in here!” Gosset said, unconsciously pulling his bedclothes modestly up about him.

  “Be quiet!” Jackson hissed. “Sister will hear you!”

  “Oh, she won’t hear anything,” Sally assured them. “Now how’d it go?”

  “Fine,” Jackson said hastily. “She’s in the loft with the other two and nobody saw us. Now please go away!”

  Parsons was frowning. “Why won’t Sister hear us?” he asked. “What have you done with her?”

  Sally grinned mischievously. “Just teaching her a lesson about slavery. Want to see?”

  The boys exchanged uncertain glances.

  “Come on!” Sally said. “It’s perfectly safe. She won’t know you’re there. Just don’t say anything.”

  Curiosity made such an invitation impossible to refuse. They climbed out of their beds and followed after Sally’s pale, impudently rolling buttocks as they led them along the dimly lit corridor, through the door to the infirmary and up the short flight of stairs to Sister Newcombe’s bedroom. Outside the bedroom door she put her finger to her lips, then ushered them silently inside.

  Jane Newcombe was standing on the floor facing the foot of her bed. Her legs were spread very wide and tied by the ankles to the feet of the iron bedframe. More ropes round her thighs secured them to the top rail, holding them absolutely rigid. Her upper body was bent sharply forward at the hips, held outstretched by ropes about her wrists which were tied to the top rail of the bed’s headframe. Her reddened breasts dangled freely, nipples swollen and pointed. But the strangest sight was Miss Newcombe’s head, which was swathed in crepe bandage, wrapped firmly about her eyes and mouth and crossing several times over her ears, so that only her nose and locks of tousled hair were visible.
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  The boys gaped at the sight in jaw-dropping disbelief. The woman they had fantasised over and secretly spied upon for months was displayed before them in the most provocative manner they could imagine.

  Sally waved them forward and gestured that they should bend down to look between Jane’s parted legs and admire the fleshy, split-peach of her sex that pouted from underneath the swell of her cane-striped buttocks. They saw her lovelips were stained green and sticky with drying juices, odorous with the animal scent of female discharge.

  Testicles that had emptied themselves into Sue little more than an hour before were tightening under swelling erections that were straining to be released or thrusting proudly through pyjama trouser vents. The boys’ faces showed sudden desperate need for release.

  Sally smiled and patted Jane on the bottom, causing her to flinch as well as her bonds allowed. Muffled by her bandages she evidently did not realise Sally had returned to the room. Sally bent over Jane’s bandage-swathed head and said loudly:

  “Now you’ve had a rest, it’s time you found out the most important lesson about being a bondslave: anybody can have you. We’re going to pretend that those boys you’re in charge of aren’t sleeping quietly in their dorm, but have come in here and found you like this...” The boys gave a shocked start of surprise at her words. “They wouldn’t see a school matron, just a slave nicely set up for use. And that’s just what they’d do.”

  The expression on the boys’ faces was almost comic as realization dawned. Sally picked up what had been a firm cucumber but was now rubbed yellow and softened for half its length.

  “Now you’ve worn it down a bit, this old cucumber is going to stand in for their hard young cocks, understand?”

  Jane was slow in responding so Sally picked up the bamboo and slashed it across her buttocks. The pale globes clenched inward at the burning blow and Jane nodded her cocooned head vigorously.

  “That’s better,” said Sally. “I expect you to work at milking it just like it was a real cock. I’ll feel if you’re not trying. And you got to do it five times, understand?”

  Jane nodded.

  Sally pointed at Gosset, indicating he should take off his pyjamas.

  Gosset gulped, then with trembling fingers obeyed. Sally pulled his hands behind his back. “She mustn’t feel anything but your cock touching her,” she whispered in his ear.

  Sally rubbed the end of the cucumber up and down Miss Newcombe’s cleft, teasing the soft folds into readiness.

  “Here comes the first one,” she said loudly.

  Before he realised what she was doing, Sally had taken hold of Gosset’s erect member with a practised hand and fed it into the waiting slit.

  A look of wonder and delight passed over Gosset’s face as his cock penetrated the hot succulent tunnel of flesh. He began to work his hips back and forth, straining to fill Miss Newcombe to the hilt, watching in fascination as tiny shivers crossed the flesh of her buttocks with every thrust he made. His dreams had come true. He was savouring the ultimate forbidden fruit, he was fucking his school matron - and she would never know!

  Standing at Gosset’s side, Sally reached round and flicked the bamboo across Jane’s dangling breasts, setting them bouncing and swaying. Gosset gave a stifled gasp as he felt Miss Newcombe’s ribbed passage contract about him. The extra tightness accelerated the inevitable. Gosset’s face contorted, his buttocks clenched as he spasmed, discharging his load into the receptacle intended for it by nature.

  Gosset sagged and reluctantly withdrew his cock from its exquisite lodging place, a few drops of semen from his penis head falling to the floor.

  Sally beckoned to Harris...

  When the boys had all made use of the innocent object of their lust and had returned to their dormitory completely satiated, and no trace of their presence remained in the room, Sally released Jane Newcombe. The older woman slumped exhausted onto the bed, her hand sliding between her thighs to probe, very carefully, the swollen lips of her vulva.

  “I never knew a cucumber could feel like that, Mistress.”

  “You can call me Sally again. The lesson’s over.”

  Miss Newcombe, her face flushed from her exertions, looked at her intently. “Well, have I passed your challenge? Do you believe my offer is genuine?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “And? Will you be my bondslave?”

  “Give me a couple of days to think about it.”

  A Slave’s Slave

  “I’ve been giving them lessons,” Amber said modestly, by way of explanation for the kisses Sue had received, as they watched the boys close the loft trapdoor and heard the padlock click on the other side.

  Jemima threw her arms about Sue and hugged her. “You see, they’re really nice. You can be their slave and they won’t be beastly to you like Arabella.”

  Sue was bewildered, blinking at their naked, camouflaged bodies. “I... don’t understand. What are you doing here like this, Miss Jemima?”

  Jemima beamed a happy smile, still hugging Sue. “Just call me ‘Jemima’ - or ‘Jem’ if you like.” She giggled. “We’re both slaves now.”

  “We haven’t been properly introduced,” Amber said. “My name’s Amber Jones.” Automatically she held out her hand and automatically Sue took it. The image of how odd they must appear; two naked women with chains around their ankles shaking hands so formally, struck them at the same moment. They grinned foolishly into each other’s faces, then broke into helpless laughter.

  “I’m... I’m Sue Drake!” Sue choked out.

  “Pleased... to meet you!” Amber replied, struggling to control herself.

  “Sorry... but I haven’t laughed... for days!” Sue gasped. Then her face crumpled and the tears began to flow again.

  “Get a blanket over her to warm her up and give her some food!” Amber told Jemima urgently.

  Five minutes later Sue was huddled in blankets and seated between them on Amber’s makeshift bed, chewing on bread and cheese. Sue wiped her eyes with an unsteady hand.

  “I’m... sorry about that. But after what’s happened... after what Miss Arabella did to me. At first I thought was going mad. Then I realised what I am...”

  “It’s all right,” Amber reassured her. “This is all strange to me as well. I think we come from the same place. If I guess right, you came across a black lacquer box somewhere called Hoakam Woods?”

  Sue’s eyes widened. “That’s right! You know about that?”

  Amber smiled wryly. “It kind of belonged to me. Nevermind, it’s a long story. I just wondered if you still had the, uh, phallus that brought you here?”

  “Oh... that. It was with my things in the playhouse, I remember... but I haven’t seen it since then.”

  Jemima had been following their conversation with a curious frown. Now she spoke up: “Do you mean that rude sort of statue thing that was sticking inside you when we found you?”

  “Yes!” Amber interjected. “Do you know what happened to it?”

  “Arabella took it with her after she looked through Sue’s things,” Jemima said. “I suppose it must be in her room in the Hall now.”

  Amber gave a disappointed sigh.

  “Is it important?” Jemima asked.

  “It might be. Don’t worry.” Amber smiled reassuringly at Jemima. “It’s not your problem. Now we’d better get ourselves cleaned up and get some sleep. You’ve got to go back home looking bright and fresh tomorrow morning, remember?” She saw Sue’s puzzled look. “Jem’s a sort of part-time slave,” she added helpfully.

  Sue shook her head tiredly. “I really don’t understand any of this.”

  “Well, it’s like this...” Amber began.

  With interjections from Jemima, Amber explained their relationship with the boys and their mutual desire for revenge on Arabe
lla, while they soaped and scrubbed the camouflage off their skins. Sue listened intently. When they were done, Sue turned wondering eyes on Jemima.

  “You really did all this, let yourself be tortured and made a slave, to get me away from Arabella?”

  Jemima blushed. “I was frightened Arabella would really hurt you, but I just wasn’t brave enough to stand up to her... well, you know what I am. When I found out what our masters - the Cranborough House boys, I mean - wanted, I realised I could let them make me tell them about you. It wasn’t hard...” She stared at the floor in embarrassment for a moment. “You can see that I like being treated this way, even if it is wicked and wrong. But that’s why I couldn’t keep my eyes off you while Arabella was doing all those terrible things. Then when you were in the water butt and I...”

  Sue leaned over and kissed Jemima. “Thank you,” she said simply. “I knew what Arabella was, but I could never have left her, even if I’d been free to.” Sue turned to Amber. “And thank you for opening all those locks.”

  “It’s a hobby of mine,” Amber said with a smile. “Hey, don’t I get a kiss too?”

  Sue obliged and Amber revelled in the soft warmth of Sue’s body and the electric tingle as Sue’s heavy breasts brushed across her own nipples. After long seconds they drew apart and Sue looked at her uncertainly.

  “You’re not like us, are you?” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve discovered my true nature over the last few days. I’m naturally servile, a submissive, a masochist, call it whatever you like. It would be stupid to pretend otherwise after what I let Arabella do to me, and loved it... most of the time, anyway. From what Jemima says I think she’s the same. But I don’t feel you’re the type to let people just walk over you.”

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m the boys’ slave, and they’ve done a pretty good job of keeping me in my place.”