by Anna Austin
Peter and I got along swimmingly, and I was happy to be married to such a gentleman. He was intelligent, and shared many of my interests - he was an avid reader like myself, and so we often spent our evenings reading aloud to each other. I was confident in our relationship - after a month of being married, we still had yet to have a quarrel.
The only problem with our marriage was the fact that we had failed to consummate it.
This problem only grew larger with the passing of time. We lived in a fairly chaste community, so it wasn't as though these sorts of problems were spoken about aloud - they were left for the couples to deal with. I avoided the issue to the best of my abilities, and this idea succeeded for a few months.
It wasn't as though I didn't want to have sex with Peter - he was my husband, after all. He was attractive and kind, and I wanted nothing more than to be able to please him.
It was just that every time I had to undress in front of him, I became unbearably ashamed of my own body. I was afraid - would he find me unattractive? Would it hurt? Would I be an unsatisfactory partner? These questions littered my psyche until the arousal drained from my body completely, leaving me utterly dry and Peter uncomfortably frustrated.
We'd approached consummation several times - Peter positioned at my entrance, my legs spread for him - but I would blanch and roll over into the fetal position every time without fail. It was humiliating to be unable to satisfy my husband's needs, but he was always very kind about it. He told me that next time would be it, and that I needn't worry. He didn't want to rush me, and for that I was grateful.
I assumed that Peter had kept the issue confidential - I'd hate to be the subject of cruel gossip, which was unfortunately prevalent in our town. He was a kindhearted man, surely he wouldn't talk badly of his wife to other people.
It was early one morning when I realized that my husband perhaps did not deserve the benefit of the doubt that I had bestowed upon him. He'd waltzed into our bedroom, inexplicably carrying an empty piece of luggage. He tossed this large bag onto our bed, awakening me from my slumber.
I blinked in confusion, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Peter's face was harsh and stern - I'd never seen him make that sort of expression before. He yanked off my blanket, causing me to yelp in surprise.
"Get dressed and pack your things." He ordered firmly.
"Why?" I asked, uncomprehending.
"Just do it. I'll explain afterwards."
I obeyed, eager to please. Perhaps we were to take a vacation together? That would certainly be lovely. But something told me that Peter didn't have relaxation and romance on the mind - his face suggested trouble, and I was honestly a little worried. I threw on a nice outfit, brushed out my tangled hair, and packed five of my favorite outfits, sealing up the luggage afterwards.
I brought the luggage downstairs with me, where I assumed that Peter was waiting. I was correct - he was standing at the bottom of the staircase, arms folded across his chest. That harsh expression still hadn't left his face. I felt scared - was he sending me off? Did he not love me any more? Doubt ravaged my mind as I reached the final step of the staircase.
Peter cleared his throat to speak.
"Selena, you know how much I care about you." He began. "But I think that you'd agree with me, were I to call our marriage somewhat...unsuccessful." He broke eye contact for a moment, traces of guilt lingering in his pretty brown eyes. I felt horrible - my heart sunk and my stomach churned as I tried to process what my husband had just admitted to me.
"Is this about the sex...?" I ventured.
"Yes. I just...I can't go on like this."
"You know that it's because I get shy-"
"It's been a year, Selena. You should've warmed up to me by now."
"Are you trying to get rid of me?"
"No."
I was perplexed and petrified - my eyes were wet, and tears threatened to fall. I blinked them back, forcing myself to meet Peter's stony gaze. So I couldn't satisfy him - thinking about that fact made me want to cry even more. I hung my head in shame.
"Don't cry, darling-" He cooed, that old sweetness of his seeping back into his voice as he stepped forward, brushing my hair out of my face. I couldn't look at him. "There's this place called St. Severine's - it's supposed to help women like you. Help you learn how to please your partner, how to be a good wife - things like that. It's expensive, but it's worth a try."
"Alright." I agreed, still fighting the urge to cry. To have my husband be so displeased with my behaviour that he felt it necessary to send me away to what was really a glorified boarding school - it was heartbreaking. I felt like less of a woman for it. All I could do was hope that this academy would do the trick - I'd return home confident and ready to fulfill his desires.
"The carriage is waiting for you outside." He said softly, running his hand through my hair and gazing deep into my eyes. I savored this moment, not knowing when I'd get the chance to have another like it. I forced a smile, bowed my head, and allowed him to escort me out of the building.
The coachman kindly took my luggage for me, placing it alongside me in the back of the carriage. The seat was comfortable enough, and I figured I could use a bit of rest on the journey to St. Severine's. Without glancing back at Peter, I shut my eyes, allowing myself to drift off into sleep as the carriage began to move towards my new home.
The jolt of the carriage coming to a sudden stop woke me up. It was impossible for me to know exactly how much time had passed - the sun was certainly higher in the sky than it had been when we'd left. I had to have been out for at least a few hours. The coachman hopped off of his seat at the front of the carriage and opened my door for me. It was a polite gesture, one that I appreciated.
He helped me with my luggage, and I thanked him politely as I made my way towards what I assumed was the school's entrance.
Almost instantly, I was greeted by a woman in an impossibly tight school uniform. I grimaced in spite of myself when I saw the way that her breasts threatened to spill forth from her stretched-out blouse. Trying to retain my tact, I made myself smile at her, and she returned the gesture, taking my hand.
"Hello, my name is Elizabeth." She chirped, voice high and grating and almost flirtatious in nature. I didn't particularly want to associate with a woman like her, but I supposed that I'd have to get over my prudish nature - it was what had gotten me here, after all. "I'm supposed to show you where your room is. You're Selena, right?"
I nodded in response, and her bright, glittering eyes widened, along with her smile.
"You're terribly beautiful, do you know that? I'm sure you'll do well here." Elizabeth grinned, tugging my wrist somewhat impolitely, urging me to follow her. I did so reluctantly, dragging my feet a little as we made our way up the steps and into the academy.
Upon entering the building itself, my eyes were instantly assaulted by the absolute perversion of it all. The halls were flooded with girls like Elizabeth - girls with ample chests, girls who wore their skirts far too high, girls whose brassieres were visible through their small blouses. It was too much for my delicate sensibilities - I had to avert my eyes.
Elizabeth giggled, noticing my obvious discomfort. She led me up a flight of stairs, and I marveled at the fact that even though she was naught three steps ahead of me, I could still catch glimpses of her panties. It seemed wrong, somehow.
"Don't worry, Selena. You'll get used to the way things work around her in no time!" She insisted, though I wasn't exactly inclined to believe her. "The uniforms are a bit unique, sure - and so are the punishments. But it's really a lovely school, trust me on that. You're sure to have a fulfilling experience here!"
Elizabeth chattered away about how lovely St. Severine's was, but my brain was still stuck on that one word - punishment. So this boarding school had unique punishments, so unique that Elizabeth felt they were worthy of mention? In most schools, you had to write lines, complete extra work...or, in the worst cases, your hands were slapping with a ruler.<
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"What sort of punishments do they have here?" I asked, interrupting Elizabeth's unrelated little speech.
Her plump lips curled up into a wry grin.
"You'll find out soon enough." She smiled, leading me to a door and opening it. "Here's your room - you'll be sharing it with several other girls, including myself. Don't worry, we're all quite nice." The laugh she emitted afterwards was particularly hyena-like, and I grimaced again, hauling my luggage into the ornate room.
I was left to unpack while the other girls were out at classes - I felt utterly exhausted, so I felt as though a bath was in order. I whittled away the hours as I slid against the porcelain into the bubbly water - by the time my skin of my fingers had completely pruned up, the sun was setting. I figured that I might as well head to bed early - I would certainly need the rest, seeing as my schedule indicated that my first class was at 8 o'clock sharp.
Climbing into my sheets, I thought of Peter - I was going to make him proud. Sleep came over me easily, and not even the giggles of my roommates could rouse me.
Elizabeth's hands awoke me - she shook me by the shoulders, and the first thing I saw were those glittering eyes of hers. I felt utterly annoyed, but I said nothing, instead sighing and sliding out of both her grasp and my bed.
"Your uniform's in the closet." She grinned, heading out of the door. "Hurry up or you'll be late!"
Grumbling, I made my way over to the closet and pulled out the uniform. How charming, it even had matching underwear - I felt a little put off, but I slid on the black panties and bra, feeling a little upset that my breasts didn't completely fill the cups. The blouse wasn't as tight on me as it had been on Elizabeth, and I chose not to roll up my skirt, seeing as it was plenty short anyway.
Feeling prepared, I headed to my first class of the day - Literature. I was excited, seeing as literature had always been my absolute favorite subject. I weaved my way through the sea of girls, until I found the correct room. The door was still open, and the teacher was absent - I heaved a sigh of relief upon realizing that I'd actually managed to arrive on time.
I took the first available seat, not caring that it was in the front row. The girls chattered away around me, and I hung my head, hoping that no one would attempt to make conversation with me - I felt far too awkward.
My head snapped up as soon as I heard the door slam shut - the teacher had entered the room. He was a tall man, surprisingly young, perhaps only a decade or two older than myself. His hair was dark and tousled, and his eyes were bright and full of what I could only describe as being mischief. He made eye contact with me, and I smiled back.
"Hello." He remarked. At first, I thought that he might be greeting the class as a whole, but judging by the silence that followed, he was directing this greeting at myself alone. A bit embarrassed at my delayed response, I began to blush - the heat behind my cheeks made it hard to think, and my eyes flitted around the room, searching for something to focus on. It was very much like my first meeting with Peter.
I had to regain my composure, no matter what the cost. I forced my features into what I hoped was a friendly smile, and I met his eyes. "Hello!"
"You're a new student, aren't you?"
"Yes. My name is Selena."
"I'm Professor Harker, nice to meet you."
His voice made my heart thud in my chest - he was perhaps even more handsome than Peter, and he was certainly more masculine. I couldn't help but avert my gaze bashfully, and my nice to meet you too was barely audible.
"Selena, why are you here at St. Severine's? Be honest with me."
"My husband sent me here."
The girls surrounding me began to giggle, and I wanted so badly to disappear.
"Why did he send you here, exactly?"
I didn't want to answer, but upon remembering Elizabeth's mention of 'punishments', I knew that I had to. I braced myself for the wave of humiliation that was sure to wash over me, and I met Professor Harker's eyes.
"I haven't been able to consummate the marriage."
The giggles of my classmates increased in volume, and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I fought them back as Professor Harker gave me a once-over.
"Selena, please come to the front of the class."
I was going to be punished - I knew it. I had no idea how I'd managed to get in trouble on my first day, but here I was, and I had to go with it if I ever hoped to properly satisfy my husband. I stood up on shaky legs and made my way over to Professor Harker.
"Now, Selena - you know that St. Severine's is a school that teaches through punishment, right? I think it only fitting for you to have your first punishment right now."
I blanched, but I forced myself to nod.
"Good girl. Remove your blouse."
The tone was so commanding that I felt my hands travelling to the buttons of my blouse before I even processed just how absurd the demand was. I was about to protest, but my resolve withered under Professor Harker's sharp gaze. Resigned, I began to undo the buttons, my hands too shaky to be particularly fast about it.
I shrugged off the blouse, revealing that the uniform's brassiere had been too large for my breasts. Professor Harker seemingly held back a chuckle, and I felt horrible. I looked at my feet in shame as he came forward. My eyes widened when I felt his fingers tracing down my spine - the class was silent, but none of them looked surprised. I was terrified when I realized that this sort of punishment was likely commonplace in this academy.
Professor Harker's deft fingers undid the clasp of my bra, and it fell to the floor unceremoniously, revealing just how inadequate I was to the entire class. The classroom erupted into a frenzy of giggles, and I felt the tears I'd tried so hard to fight back streaming down my face.
"It's no wonder you can't please your husband." Professor Harker sneered, running his hand over my breast. "You hardly look like a real woman." His fingers made my skin tingle, and I bit my lip to keep from making sounds of discomfort. My nipple grew hard as his finger circled it, and when he pinched it, I made an undignified noise in the back of my throat.
"Selena, here at St. Severine's, I promise you - you'll become a woman who knows how to please a man. Even if you're terribly inadequate, we'll make sure you're good at what a woman should be good at." He smiled, his fingers still tracing around my nipples. I stood still, utterly petrified at the sudden objectification. I didn't want to be at a school like this - I didn't belong here!
"Now, Selena - I want you to bend over my desk. Make sure all the girls can see."
I hung my head and made my way over to Professor Harker's desk, my legs trembling and my chest heaving as my heart strained to keep up with all the adrenaline and fear surging through my body. I gave the class a timid look, only to find that all the girls seated were looking at me the way they would look at a beggar - with a sickening combination of pity and pride. My face was wet with tears as I bent over the desk.
Professor Harker's loud footsteps sounded behind me, and I shut my eyes, praying that I would manage to get through this somehow. I felt his cold palm slide up my pale, fleshy thigh, and I winced. I didn't know what he planned on doing, but I felt sick to my stomach at the possibilities my mind was conjuring up.
His fingers were playing with the hem of my underwear - I noted this with horror, seeing as that could only mean one thing. He intended to expose me in front of the whole class. I buried my face in my arms, feeling humiliated and defeated. As Professor Harker tugged my panties down around my knees, I let out a pitiful whimper.
"Your breasts are disappointing, but your ass is nice." He remarked, though there was no hint of sexuality in his voice. He was cold and clinical, stating everything as though it were fact. His hands were on my hips now, and before I could protest (not that I would've been able to), he was sliding my skirt up around my waist, showing off my naked lower half to the class.
I thought the punishment would end there, but all of a sudden, there was a sharp pain - it took me a while to register what had just h
appened, and how much it stung. It happened again. Professor Harker's palm struck me hard across my plump ass cheeks, and this time I cried out in pain. He wasn't being gentle, he was digging his nails in, he was hitting me hard.
Again, he struck me. I swore I could feel the marks blooming across my pale skin. The loud slapping sounds echoed throughout the classroom, and despite my cries of pain, none of the girls said a word. There was the occasional giggle, but nothing else - it dawned on me that this was something normal to them. I yelped, struggling to get free.
Professor Harker held me down, spanking me ever harder than he had before. He had no mercy, and as he dragged those sharp nails across my porcelain skin, I was horrified to realize something - for the first time in what felt like forever, I was wet.
"Ah - you're a fast learner, aren't you?" Professor Harker chuckled. His laugh was cruel, and the way he traced those evil fingers of his around the marks he'd left on me was absolutely horrid. I wanted so badly to tell him off, to stomp right out of the academy and demand to be taken home - but I couldn't deny that I'd actually been aroused by his poor treatment of me.
He dragged his hand up my plump inner thigh, and very nearly touched my pussy. I was trembling - I wanted to badly to be touched there. I don't remember ever having felt this way with Peter, though I supposed that was because Peter had never hit me. Was there something wrong with me? Was I a pervert?
As it so happened, I didn't even have time to chase those trains of thought, because Professor Harker slid a finger into me, and my mind went blank. I writhed down against his hand, desperate and needy. I was ashamed to be acting like this, and I hoped that none of the girls could tell just how badly I wanted it.
"Selena, you're really a slut, aren't you? You'll fit right in." He remarked, his low drawl tantalizing and infuriating all at once. "You're really pressing against me - you really need this, don't you? You're such a whore. You're not supposed to enjoy punishments, you know."
He slid another finger into me, and I let out a shameless moan that I was certain Peter could hear from miles and miles away. "More," I gasped, but I quickly retracted it. "Stop- stop- Sir, please stop-" I insisted, though I knew that Professor Harker was aware of what I really wanted. I pressed my forehead against the desk, not wanting anyone to see my face.