Paul Gable - Slave schoolgirl

"God!"

Allison Dennis didn't feel good. In fact, she felt terrible. Her head still pounded while her belly felt as if it were on fire. Her whole body was shaking, a monument to agony as she sat quietly in the headmistress' office, her hands folded modestly in her lap.

A severe-looking woman was shuffling through a stack of papers on her desk, once or twice glancing up at the blonde teen seated before her. There was no look of friendliness on her face or glint of encouragement in her eyes.

The girl sucked in her lower lip and bit down hard. Why had her mother insisted that she go to this school? A boarding school, one that was usually reserved for the wealthy. Allison had felt very out of place here the moment she'd arrived. And there were stories, stories about "things" that went on. Even when she arrived with her mother, seeing the attractive gardens and the tree-studded lawn fanning out in front of the castle-like structure, she felt a wave of fear wash over her. It was the first time the girl had been away from her home alone.

"It's for your own good, dear," her mother had said reassuringly as Allison climbed the stone stairway add entered the hall.

"I… I don't know."

Allison wasn't much of a scholar, but she sensed the antiquity of the furniture. As she and her mother walked down the vaulted hall the girl was more scared than ever. The thought of leaving her comfortable home in Los Angeles to come to this medieval thing out in the country made her very queasy.

And those stories. One or two of her friends had whispered about all kinds of nasty punishments and sexual orgies that were supposed to go on inside that place. Why had her mother saved all her money and sent her there, of all schools? There were plenty of other institutions in the area, schools that didn't have the reputation of Harrison Manor.

But her mother had wanted her to go to the best.

"Have a good time, dear, and call," her mother said with a smile as she left Allison alone in the high-ceilinged hallway.

Dear God! It was almost like being left in prison! As she stood in front of the headmistress that fateful day Allison wanted to run back to her mother, to wrap her arms around the woman's waist and beg her not to leave her here. But the girl knew it wouldn't work. She didn't want to cause a scene. And besides, perhaps it was all in her mind. Perhaps all those stories were nothing more than that – stories about a fine school told by people who were enviously jealous.

And the first few days seemed to pass quietly enough. She had received her uniform, picked up her books and met her roommate, Jude, another young novice at the school who seemed relieved that she'd be sharing her room with someone as nice and quiet as Allison.

Then came that day, that awful day when Patty Harrington had sneaked in some cigarettes somehow from the outside. To escape detection when the headmistress and her staff were searching the rooms after having been alerted by an informant, Patty had sneaked into Allison's room and shoved the carton, between the mattress and boxsprings. Needless to say the young blonde vehemently denied having brought the contraband in, let alone smoked it or sold it. But there was nothing to be said.

For the next few days Allison sat in her room, her only company being Janie. She was suspended from all classes and would probably be kicked out of school. She thought of her mother, and all the hopes the older woman had had for her daughter. This school would be her launching pad for better things. And now, now she would be kicked out, driven from the doors as if she were trash. She could picture her mother's shocked, disappointed face when the headmistress made the phone call. Oh God, she wished she could die rather than face her mother!

"Do you have anything further to say for yourself, Allison?"

The girl shook herself back to reality. Miss Vennestroom was smiling cruelly, having put down her papers. She was tapping her long fingernail rhythmically on the desk top, staring at the young girl who cringed under the steady gaze.

"No. I don't know how that stuff got there. I really don't," Allison said, feeling the hot tears welling up in her eyes.

No, she wasn't going to cry. That would be an admission of guilt, and she was completely innocent. That Patty Harrington! She guessed it had been that dark-haired little bitch who had fooled the staff. But she had no proof, and she knew Miss Vennestroom would only laugh at her accusations.

"I see."

Erika Vennestroom was a tall, attractive woman, Teutonic from head to foot and severe in every way. Slender and long-legged, she walked with her shoulders back, emphasizing her full, high-riding tits that jiggled with each step she took. Her eyes were a strange icyblue color that seemed to look right through you as she spoke. Chills ran up and down Allison's spine as she sat in the dark office, feeling swallowed up by the older woman's gaze.

"You're trembling, dear. There's no need to do that. This isn't the inquisition."

Wasn't it? Allison wouldn't have been surprised if someone had popped from the shadows with a branding iron. Suddenly all those whispered stories about orgies and God-only-knows-what slipped back into her memory. She closed her legs, rubbing her knees together while staring back at the handsome young woman in front of her. Oh, how she wished she could escape from this awful place! Suddenly the thought of her mother coming back to retrieve her wasn't so awful at all. She would be back home, away from this ancient monastery and back with her friends!

"I haven't called your mother… not yet, anyway," the headmistress said, tilting her head back and narrowing her eyes.

Allison felt her heart sink. The pounding in her head and the queasiness in her belly grew worse. There was something awful coming her way, she knew it.

"Oh?" she managed to squeak.

"People makes mistakes, Allison. And we're here to correct them, not to turn the transgressor out. You have made a mistake," Erika said, sucking in a deep breath and curling up her lips in another smile.

How Allison shivered under that smile! She could sense something was coming, something that would change her life forever.

"Maybe I just don't fit in here," Allison confessed, feeling her cheeks burning with shame and embarrassment. "The other girls… I mean," she went on hesitantly, not able to stare Erika in the face. "The other girls all come from wealthy families and I…"

"Nonsense!" Erika said, waving her hand in front of her face to dismiss the thought. "The other girls have as many problems as you do. I consider all my girls equal. You've transgressed, however, and must be punished. Your mother has spent a good deal of money to have you sent here, money I cannot return to her should you be expelled. Would you want that to happen?"

Allison bit down on her lip again, shaking her head from side to side.

"Very well," Erika said, standing up and moving from behind the desk. "Come with me."

She led Allison to the back of the building, through the massive kitchen where the cooks were preparing supper. The blonde teen suddenly realized she was hungry. She hadn't been eating much the past day, terrified that the headmistress would be calling her mother.

Again Allison thought of her mother and of the sacrifices she had gone through to send her here. No, no, Miss Vennestroom was right. She couldn't let her mother down. If she was going to be punished, all right, so be it. Surely the punishment wouldn't be that bad. In a few hours she would be back in her room with Janie, laughing and giggling over how strange Erika Vennestroom was and about how absolutely creepy this whole place was.

"I'm going to be a little severe with you now, my dear, but that's simply to make sure you won't make another mistake in the future, all right?"