Pearl Jones - The Schooling of Carolyn

"Well, then,” Carolyn purred, “What are you waiting for?"

Again the tears spilled over the beautiful face. “I can't!"

The feel of the air changed, or perhaps it was a sound she didn't realize she'd heard, but something made Carolyn turn. Her tutor stood with another man of commanding presence, close enough to see, to hear, far enough away to go unobserved. The looks in their eyes filled her with unreasoning jealousy-and a certain dark sympathy. She knew how they felt when they looked at Jennifer, felt that way herself, yet still blamed the girl for making her tutor stare.

"I told you, little girl, don't lie to me. You can. You may not want to, but that's no concern of mine.” Holding Jennifer's chin in her hand, she brought her face down to the seated girl. “You can, and you will. Now, open that pretty mouth of yours and suck on your thumb. Or stick it in dry, for all I care."

She stood back (to make sure the men could see), sneered down, and waited. Frame shaking with her sobs, Jennifer slowly brought her hand to her face, began to suck her thumb. Carolyn let her take a minute, then spoke sharply. “Enough. You have your instructions. Do it. Now."

Jennifer jumped, looked, pleading, up at Carolyn. Her shoulders slumped in defeat at what she saw. She pulled her thumb out of her mouth with a pop, dropped her hand down between her outspread thighs. Frowned daintily. Slid forward on the bench, then stopped, her expression almost comical.

"Turn this way."

Jennifer followed Carolyn's gesture, turned to straddle the bench, lay back on it. Her thumb merely damp by now, she pushed her lacy underwear aside, put the tip at her back entrance, and began to squeal.

Without pushing the digit inside.

"Well?"

Jennifer screwed her face up, shook her head from side to side. The finger didn't move.

"You have your instructions,” Carolyn said again. And sharply, “Now!"

That worked. Jennifer jumped, and yelped as her nail scratched over her sphincter, then set her thumb to her most secret entrance and pushed resolutely. Panting and grunting indelicately, she forced her thumb all the way in, until there was nowhere left to go, then stopped, relief and discomfort warring in her face and body.

"You're not finished yet, little girl,” Carolyn laughed. “Repeat your instructions aloud."

"I am supposed to sit here with my thumb up my butt until he comes for me."

"And are you?"

Jennifer frowned her confusion.

"Are you sitting?"

Comprehension bled what little color she had from her face, and she struggled to sit up.

Carolyn stood back and watched, not even thinking to help. Jennifer jiggled delightfully. Her tutor crooked a finger, and Carolyn nodded, but paused. “Good,” she told Jennifer. “It's easier if you follow instructions. Don't forget to keep your legs open, and your chin up.” And then she walked to her tutor, hips swaying wide, desperate to come, though she knew it was not allowed.

The look in those wide eyes! Fear, and confusion, and gratitude. And pain, of course. Can't forget the pain.

* * * *

"Enjoyed yourself last night, did you?"

"Yes, sir.” Carolyn saw no point to lying. She had, though she wasn't quite sure why.

"Did you know, that's the first order she's obeyed without punishment? In all the time she's been here, that's the very first time."

"Why is she here, if I may ask? She doesn't seem to enjoy it the least bit."

"She doesn't, does she? And yet, she passed the tests.” Her tutor frowned into the distance, leaving Carolyn to her thoughts. He shrugged after a long moment, and shook his head.

"Tests? Sir?” She remembered her own entry here, the woman in the bar, the encounter as much pain as pleasure, the commands from people she'd never met, and the teasing torment. Had those been tests? If she'd failed them, would she have been sent away? The thought was frankly frightening now; she couldn't imagine her life, had she not come here. Had she never found a place to teach her what she'd learned, what she was still learning, looked forward to each day.

"Yes.” Seeing the interest in her eyes, he spoke at some length, telling her how Jennifer had been selected. The approach, the scripted encounter, the scene here at the school. Different from her own, but similar. “She responded well, not climactically, but not all do.[?] She showed pleasure, and interest, and willingness to submit. But since she's been here, what she mostly does is cry. The classes don't arouse her, her tutor can't make her come. She sometimes shows pleasure when punished, particularly when being spanked, but she can't let herself go. And no one's made her do so but you and Jack.” He smiled to see her nipples crinkle as his words. “If Jack hadn't been nearly ready to graduate, we'd have assigned her the task. As it is, well, you seem to have selected yourself."

"I don't understand. What is it you want me to do?"

"Tomorrow morning, before breakfast, report next door. Her tutor will have instructions for you. And, Carolyn,” he waited for her to blink, “you are not to come. No transgressions, do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir. I am not to come.” But her clit throbbed warning and yearning even as she spoke. What will they let me do to her?

* * * *

Close up, Jennifer's tutor was almost as magnetic a person as her own; Carolyn's hands shook with the need to run her fingers through his hair; her thighs fell open further than required purely out of longing for his touch.

He acted completely unaware of her response to him, though he could not possibly have been. “She's been given her instruction, a task to complete. Walk her through it, then take her with you to class. Her schedule's been shifted, she attends your classes now, all of them.” He paused, waiting for Carolyn's nod. “Three things: she comes only when I can see it. Here, or in the hall if I am present; for any other location, you ask permission of me, and wait to see that I am there. No student touches her but you. And you don't remove anything I put on her. Clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Go."

Carolyn nearly leapt from her chair, eager to see her project. The door opened easily.

"Oh!” Jennifer glanced around, shoulders falling from where they'd risen, up around her ears. “Good morning,” she said shyly, venturing a smile.

"You aren't dressed.” Not that Carolyn minded seeing the opulent flesh so much on display, the sheer short nightgown more decoration than protection for any maiden's modesty.

"No, I,” the twist was unconsciously graceful, almost a dance, and Carolyn's hands clenched into fists at her sides, half longing to caress the soft form before her, half to grasp hard enough to bruise. “My tutor told me I have to choose one of these.” There was a collection of dildos laid out on the table, from slim small lengths of plastic to monsters of latex bristling with bumps and thorns. “And use it. On myself, to, to make myself, you know. And I, I just can't."

"Little girl,” Carolyn drawled, “that's the last time you'll use that phrase.” Dim memory of herself crying just those words to her tutor mere months ago, but all she felt was impatience for the girl she'd been. She'd learned since just how much she could do, and looked forward to learning how far she had yet to grow; time and long past for this shrinking soft body to learn, too. Her hands gentler than they might have been, enjoying the pale smooth skin, Carolyn turned Jennifer to face a floor-to-ceiling mirror, their eyes meeting in the reflection. “Take off the nightgown."

She held her gaze steady until Jennifer obeyed her. “Now, remember how Jack touched you?"

A hesitant nod from the brunette. (Carolyn wondered how soon they'd bleach her hair, quite certain they would, to make her more like Marilyn.) “Take my fingers, show me how Jack touched you.” With a few false starts and flinches, Jennifer surrendered, closing her eyes, leaning back into the circle of Carolyn's arms, guiding the fingers in soft slow circles and quicker strokes, finally pistoning several in and out of her own core. With another of those high gentle cooing cries, she fell back against Carolyn, body rigid as she came.