“Bring her in Miss Kavendish.”

The door is opened and I am led through by the leash around my neck. As I enter the room I see the man everyone calls ‘Sir’ sat casually upon the chaise longue stretched along one wall. The chaise itself a regal mix of red and gold and the man upon it dressed in the finest dark blue suit and waistcoat with a beautiful deep red silk cravat. I am wearing a boarding school uniform, or at least the remains of one. My blazer has been removed and my white shirt ripped open. The soft cups of my white bra have been pushed back to expose my breasts and ornate metal clamps grip my bared nipples tightly in their teeth. The ache is painful as the heavy clamps hang from my hardened nipples but, I hate to admit, the sensation also produces a hint of pleasure somewhere deep inside. My hands are cuffed behind my back and the same leather binds my bare feet with a chain between so I can walk. My grey pleated skirt is still intact and my white cotton knickers underneath. For once, I wish my skirt was longer as Miss Kavendish leads me over to the chaise longue.

“Sir, I bring here to you a very naughty girl who must be punished,”

Miss Kavendish begins as she drops my leash and pulls my head back by my hair. Sir rises from the chaise and comes to look into my eyes.

“She has used her feminine wiles to get what she wants for too long,” Kavendish continues, “keeping her shirt buttons undone to show off the curve of her breasts and her skirt short to tempt a second look at her toned legs.”

As she speaks, Sir lets his eyes roam over my body. When Kavendish mentions my breasts, I watch his mouth curl in a sly smile as his eyes drink in my exposed body. He moves behind me as she mentions my legs. My face flushes with shame. My skirt is short. He uses something to pull my skirt up, it feels like a stick, which he runs across my bottom and I feel the pressure through my knickers.

“Bend her over,”

He instructs and Kavendish pulls my body forward and holds me firmly in that position with my head by my knees. My face flushes again, very conscious of my bottom in the air. Sir pulls my skirt up further with the stick and then uses it to hook into the waistband of my knickers and drag them down my legs. I feel the stick against my bare bottom and realise it is a cane.


Without warning the cane slices through the air and lands its stinging lash on my bottom. I yelp and squirm but Kavendish holds me firm. She is a well-built woman and I already know I am no match for her strength.

“You will receive 10 lashes with the cane and 10 with my belt,”

His voice is firm and makes me quiver inside. He strikes me as he said with the cane 10 times and I count each sting under my breath. I hear his belt unbuckle and the same is repeated. The cheeks of my bottom burn with heat.

“I think this one needs the flogger too Sir,”

I hear Kavendish tell him, a little eagerness creeping into her voice.

“Would you like to do the honours Miss Kavendish?”

He asks as he approaches her position and leans to hold me firmly in place still. My legs shake a little as Kavendish steps behind me and I hear her rustle. Silence for what feels like an eternity before the strike of several leather lashes hit my naked bottom. I yelp again. Kavendish is the devil.

“10 of these for you whore,”

She announces and her blows are far harder than the man before her. Tears start to run down my cheeks as I sob quietly and whimper. As I cry, Sir strokes my hair tenderly. I love the feel of his gentle touch. I count the final strike and Sir speaks again.

“Is her cunt wet, Miss Kavendish?”

Kavendish runs her fingers across the opening of my pussy.


I hear her proclaim with glee. My face flushes again with shame. I know I am wet. I feel it. But how?

“Slide your fingers inside.”

He instructs and I feel two of Kavendish’s hard fingers inside me. I squirm. She pulls her fingers back out and holds her hand up triumphantly.

“Glistening with come,”

Sir speaks for my benefit as I cannot see her fingers and this time my whole body burns. How can I be so excited from such a punishment? How can my body betray me?

“We have to teach little whores like you a lesson,” Sir speaks firmly again, “Miss Kavendish?”

Kavendish comes back over to me and rubs her wet fingers across my top lip. I can smell my sex. Oh God. I feel something I can’t explain start to burn deep inside as shame rushes over me once more. Kavendish and Sir grip me tightly and carry me over to the chaise. I cannot struggle. My shame makes me weak. I smell my urges, my lust, my whorish body. I deserve my punishment.

Once on the chaise they tie me to it, uncuffing my hands to tie them out in front of me at my elbows and my wrists, securing both to the chaise beneath me. They do the same at my knees and my feet. I am kneeling and I wonder why they have positioned me so. My bottom is in the air again. Perhaps another beating. Kavendish tears my knickers completely from my body and thrusts them deep into my mouth. She does the same with my skirt so my bottom and pussy are both exposed. I start to register what is about to happen and my fight returns. I pull hard on my restraints and Sir holds my body firmly as I fight.

“You will learn your lesson my little whore,” he says, “you will be a good girl and take your punishment.”

I hear Kavendish open the door and my eyes widen with fear as I watch 15 men with Scholars gowns enter the room. They line up in front of me all with matching smirks to accompany their matching gowns. I try to fight again but it is no use. My rope restraints are tight and Sir has me held fast.

“Get her ready Miss Kavendish,”

He instructs and I suddenly feel a wet, soft sensation between my pussy lips. I realise it is Kavendish’s tongue. She is gentle and warm with her tongue’s caress and I find myself feeling shivers of pleasure. The ache in my nipples and the sting of my bottom all seem to merge together with Kavendish’s tongue to form a fire at the pit of my belly. I moan softly and, although muffled by my knickers, Sir clearly hears me.

“Yes little whore, Miss Kavendish is good isn’t she?” He turns to Kavendish, “pay special attention to her whore-girl arse. We will make good use of that.”

My mind snaps back into the room and I fight at my restraints again and again I am held firm. All it achieves is making the smirks of the Scholars before me more smug than before. My eyes flit widely from one to the other as Kavendish moves onto licking my bottom. Her soft tongue in that hole is an alien feeling to me but, despite myself, it is not unpleasant. Yet my mind races with the fear of what is to come. My heart pounds hard and fast in my chest. I watch the men in front of me start to pull their hardened cocks from their gowns. I see the visible smooth shafts as they move their hands up and down them while I squirm under their gaze. I want to look away but I remain transfixed. What will they do? My mind asks over and over. What will they do?

“Is she ready Miss Kavendish?”

I hear Sir ask and Kavendish’s tongue moves away from my bottom. I feel one intruding finger and then another in my hole as she thrusts both in and out fiercely a few times.

“She is ready.”

I yell and fight my restraints again but this time Kavendish holds me down while I hear the all too familiar sound of a zip. Silence again before suddenly my bottom is violated by the hard thrust of Sir’s naked shaft. I yell into my knickers. The sound is guttural as my muscles tear around him. I thrash my body as much as I am able and I hear a deep and breathless laugh.

“Fighting won’t help you,” he announces, slowing his thrusts as he speaks. “All these men will use your holes to our heart’s content. Your cunt, your arse, your mouth. That is what we do to little whores like you.”

I scream again and my scream lasts forever as Sir starts to thrust harder and faster into me. I feel like I am breaking in two. Tears fall again from my eyes as I watch the men in front of me working their shafts. One steps forward.

“I want to come in her face,”

He announces and I don’t know how Sir gives his approval but soon his dick is next to my face being pumped furiously as pre-cum appears. He rubs that around my face and uses his spare hand to pull hard on my nipple clamps.

“You like that don’t you?”

I whimper now. The ache from my nipples and the pain from the pounding of dick into my sore bottom has broken me. A fire continues to burn deep inside that I wish was not there. My body betrays me, my mind whispers again and again. My body betrays me. The man in front of me pulls hard on each clamp in turn as he pumps his cock faster and faster. My eyes cannot help but follow the movement of his hand as Sir pounds out a similar rhythm into my screaming bottom.

“I’m going to come in your whore girl arse,” Sir whispers to me softly, “and you are going to love it like the dirty girl you are.”

I feel his dick shudder and I feel my own stomach clench. My pussy tightens too. I burn with shame and desire in equal measure. I am a dirty whore. The man with his cock before me ejaculates across my face and smears it using its bulbous head. I hear Sir panting before he too jerks out his come inside my bottom. The seed of two men. The fire deep inside burns hotter.

Sir pulls out and comes round to the front of me. He pulls my knickers from my mouth and replaces them quickly with his still hard cock.

“Lick it clean,”

He commands as he thrusts deep and I gag. He pulls my head up by my hair to look deep into my tear-filled eyes.

“Lick it clean, little whore.”

I start to use my tongue on him as he thrusts deeper. He seems satisfied as he pulls out and beckons the next men over.

“One can take her mouth, and one her arse or cunt.”

Two more shiny smooth dick shafts approach. My bottom burns. And I realise for the first time since my punishment began, how much my pussy yearns to be filled …