F Campbell - Margo

Shocked and distraught, she looked agonizingly at the headmaster and ejaculated, "Please, please… oh, sir!"

"You may sit down. You will keep your hands in view, upon the top of your desk." His finger swiveled to confront one more quaking girl.

Peggy Phillips followed the same path as her predecessors. Upon arrival at the fateful spot, she was handed a pair of simple metal clips and told to snap them on her own nipples. There was another shocked silence. It would be bad enough to have someone do that to a girl, but for the girl herself to be compelled to fasten the clips on the little rosebuds was an appalling thought. Peggy Phillips voiced it forlornly.

"But, sir, I can't. I can't possibly do that. It will hurt terribly."

"You will do it, young lady. And you will do it without any further quibbling. If you wish to quibble, we will perform the service for you, but will give you in addition ten strokes in a place you will not relish."

Peggy Phillips was holding the small metal monsters as though they were alive and likely to do her injury. She gave a despairing glance around to all the faces unable to offer her aid. In innocent naivete, she enquired, "What part of me did you intend to whip, sir?"

"Your breasts – five strokes each."

There was an inevitability about the ritual. Peggy Phillips would not say one word. Forlornly, she gazed down at the pink buds of flesh she was about to clip. Strangely, they appeared to have grown. She could swear that even as she watched, they became more erect. It was like an open invitation. With a tiny sob, she swiftly and with little care made the first entrapment of her flesh. She looked at the headmaster for approval. But the headmaster did not approve. His voice was brusque.

"A poor sloppy job, Miss Phillips. I want you to affix them properly on the nipple itself and not the areola surrounding it. I want moreover the clip to extend prettily from the flesh. I do not want it hung sideways or in some disjointed fashion. Please try again."

It was probably the most agonizing thing she had ever done, but Peggy Phillips unclipped the little monster and gasped at the sudden, unexpected agony. Gingerly, she positioned the small open jaws and carefully allowed them to close upon herself. She made a small whimpering sound of dismay, but bravely repeated the motions on her other breast. She now faced the headmaster of Rossland with breasts arrogantly out thrust, and on the tip of each, a throbbing small clip of wicked metal. She found it difficult to control her voice.

"Oh, sir, please may I take them off now?"

"Of course not. Don't be ridiculous. I want you to stand over against the wail there, clasp your hands behind your back, and remain stationary while we deal with the next young lady. Come. Don't stand there with your mouth open."

Dejectedly and quite anxious to say more but not daring to utter a word, Peggy Phillips did as she was told. She went to the wall, leaned back against it, and clasped her hands at her back. She stood in suffering misery for all to see.

The last girl to receive the headmaster's attention was both clothed and handcuffed. She was, moreover, a mistress. She inevitably fluffed the question asked, and without hope, made her way forward to receive her punishment. Without waiting to be asked, she volunteered, "I'm handcuffed, sir, as punishment for insubordination. I was rude to Miss Harridance. I must remain handcuffed for seven days. It does not impede me in my duties."

"Well, well. Does it impede the removal of that school tunic?"

"No, sir." The cuffed hands were busy with fastenings until the tunic fell to the floor. The girl wore nothing underneath and stood stark naked for the headmaster's approval. After a moment, she bent, picked up her dress, and folded it, placing it carefully to one side. Miss DuPont's voice was toneless.

"You wish to punish me, sir?"

"Indeed I do. I am wondering what punishment would be most effective upon a mistress. Quite obviously, you are more responsible than these unhappy maidens who have gone before. Would you care to make a suggestion?"

Margo was not sure about Miss DuPont. The girl could well be an exhibitionist or a masochist, or perhaps she was having a little quiet fun beneath a passive exterior. Miss DuPont's suggestion was cool and unconcerned.

"Whipping is such a bore, sir. It's been terribly overdone, and as a matter of face, I was whipped quite recently. I doubt that to whip me further would interest you much. Therefore, I suggest the employment upon person of those same metal clips you are using on Miss Phillips. However, you have mentioned that my maturity and official position merits a greater severity, so may I suggest that the clips be placed not only on my nipples, but also on the lips that are beneath my pubic hair."

Henry Ross gazed at her in amazement and admiration. Here indeed was a pleasant change from tearful subservience. This young woman was either a fool or remarkably courageous. He conceded a slight deference in his tone.

"I accept your suggestion, Miss DuPont. I had considered something more trying, but in view of your excellent attitude, I am prepared to make concessions. I believe we have a boxful of these little metal contrivances. Allow me."

Miss DuPont viewed the contents of the proffered box with distaste. But without pause, she reached out and counted four of the hated objects. She looked steadfastly at the man and suggested, "I have taken four, but if it will please you to affix one also to each of my ears, I will do so. But I must say that from previous experience they are extremely painful."

"Splendid, Miss DuPont. I am impressed." He set aside the box and patted the impressive delinquent's cheek. He was chuckling. "By all means, and do let me know if any of us can help."

Margo added her gasp to all the rest. Miss DuPont was magnificent. One after the other, she clipped the little horrors on the most intimate places. She did so with no more than a slight flinch and a gasp, just enough to give a piquancy to a proceeding altogether bizarre. The pink nipples, the almost hidden labia, the coral ear lobes. Fastened upon her ears, the biting clips took on the aspect of costume jewelry. Still unconcerned, she politely enquired, "Would you wish me to stand by Miss Phillips at the wall, sir?"

"I am about to disband the class, Miss DuPont. I would like both you and Miss Phillips to wear your ornaments for one hour, at which time you will present yourselves to Miss Harridance for her supervision in their removal. I'm sure I can count on your cooperation. You may go."

Margo watched the class dissolve. She was thankful it was over. She was tired of cringing and wincing for the agonies of others. If she received agony for herself now, then at least she would be going through the motions for some purpose.

Henry Ross wasted no time. He took her hand and spoke.

"I can't stand it any more. I'm too damn horny. Come along."

He led Margo to his private suite to the bedroom, not even stopping for a drink. His demand was almost savage.

"Off with that damn rag and get yourself on the bed. I've been wondering why I didn't fuck you half to death last night. Now I'm going to do it."

He tossed aside the academic gown and became more human. His speech was less stilted. The twinkle came buck to his eyes.

"I won't even cane your ass, and believe me, that's a big concession." Henry Ross was a man of moods. He lived up to his word and ravished Margo Davis to the point of near exhaustion. She could not deny his ability or the ample dimensions of his maleness. She could understand such a man having no patience with lesbianism. To him, it was a waste. And with him, in fact, it truly was a waste, so great was his capacity for satisfying the female. After he had emptied himself completely, and having brought to Margo a multitude of intense orgasms, she nestled beside the male, allowing his mood to govern hers. First, though, there were the handcuffs.