Chapter One

The sign on the brick pier supporting the big wrought iron gates read: Ringsdean Towers Finishing School for Girls. And below it a motto: “Obedience and Discipline above all else.”

The cream and green Bedford Duple Vega coach swung in through the gates and came to rest on the big sweep of gravel drive before the main entrance. Its doors opened and disgorged a gaggle of chattering young women, all identically dressed in grey blazers over white shirts, school ties and grey pleated skirts with white knees socks and black shoes. The last to descend from the bus were five girls who huddled together a little uncertainly, clutching tight to their leather satchels and duffle bags containing their PE kit.

The five were new girls and this was their first day at Ringsdean. They were all eighteen years old and pretty in their different ways. They had met for the first time on the bus, discovering in the process that their families had recently arrived in the area and were joining the school mid-term. Now they looked up doubtfully at the edifice of stern Victorian brickwork and tall windows before them. The golden opalescent morning sky, in which the sun still had to put in an appearance, highlighted its sharp slate roofs and ornamental turrets, slightly softened by shaggy growths of ivy snaking up the walls. Above the big main entrance porch the ivy embraced a large clock with ornate black hands that pointed to eight forty-seven.

Emma Rowe automatically went to check her watch against the school clock but found she had forgotten to put it on this morning. ‘Well, this is it,’ she said, running a finger around the collar of her shirt. For some reason her tie felt uncomfortable, as though she had not worn one for a long time.

‘It looks a bit sinister,’ said Ruth Jacobs nervously.

‘Oh I don’t know,’ said Heather Bellamy. ‘I’ve seen worse. Nice lot of hedera helix.’

‘What?’ Natasha Dowell challenged.

‘The ivy. That’s its proper name.’

‘Are you showing off or something?’

Heather frowned as though puzzled herself. ‘No… I just remember that’s its proper name.’

‘Well I just hope they’ve got some decent tennis courts,’ Tess Lloyd said.

They watched another batch of girls being disgorged from a coach and even a few from private cars. Ruth commented: ‘they’re all very pretty, aren’t they?’

It was true. All their fellow students seemed uniformly mature and pretty, chattering softly together as they streamed obediently towards the front door of the school. There did not seem to be a plain face or shapeless body amongst them. Unconsciously the five straightened their own uniforms and patted their hair to ensure they looked their best.

Emma took a deep breath. ‘Let’s find out where everything is …’

They were met at the top of the steps leading up to the big green front door by a teacher wearing a traditional black cap and gown and carrying a clipboard. He had a large moustache and a cold and impassive face, and, like the school façade, seemed very big, stern and intimidating.

‘And you would be Lloyd, Rowe, Jacobs, Bellamy, and Dowell, is that correct?’ he asked crisply.

‘Yes, Sir,’ they all said together, perhaps a little more meekly than they had intended.

He made ticks on his clipboard and then said crisply: ‘Follow me and no dawdling! I’ll show you to your lockers and then we’ll go straight to assembly…’

He led the way along a large hall smelling of floor polish until he came to a set of doors. The sign over one read: ‘Lockers, Toilets and Changing rooms,’ while beside it was another labelled: “Matron’s Office and Sickroom.’

To their surprise the teacher pushed through the changing room door which opened onto a roomful of metal lockers and changing benches and racks and hooks for coats. There were a few girls in there putting away their belongings.

‘Get along there!’ he teacher commanded. The girls hastily finished their unpacking and departed.

The teacher indicated a row of five unused lockers side by side.

‘These will yours,’ he told them. He pointed to an arch in the wall: ‘Toilets and showers through there. Put your bags away and then we’ll go to the assembly hall…’

Hastily the five did as they were bidden, and then followed the teacher back out into the main corridor and along towards the Hall, joining the general flow of girls making their way in the same direction. When they entered they found the big hall was already half full of girls formed into neat ranks.

The teacher led to the five newcomers to the very front and showed them where to stand. Then he climbed the steps onto the platform of the stage and joined the handful of other capped and gowned teachers assembling there on a row of chairs set out in front of the curtains. None of them were female, the newcomers noticed. In fact the only mature female visible was a woman wearing a dark blue nurse’s uniform. She was blonde, strong featured and rather striking.

Once all the pupils had filed in a new man climbed onto the stage. He was large and ruddy faced with greying hair and bushy side-whiskers. Disconcertingly he appeared to have a cane slung from some loop of fabric on the inside of his robes. He took his place at the lectern to one side of the stage and looked down at the assembled girls with satisfaction. His gaze travelled along their ranks until he came to the five newcomers in the front row, upon whom he beamed brightly.

‘For the benefit of our new pupils my name is Brownlow and I am headmaster of Ringsdean,’ he said. ‘Welcome to our school. At the start of this year I explained to our pupils what our purpose here is, and I think it is worth repeating. Ringsdean takes young women who have nominally finished their secondary education and further moulds, refines and polishes them. In the process we introduce them to the realities of life beyond the classroom and their place in it, and teach them proper respect for their betters. While you are with us you will learn, as out motto states, the virtues of Obedience and Discipline above all else, reinforced as necessary by suitable punishments until it becomes second nature. As all our other girls could tell you, this is exemplified at the start of each new day with what we call our uniform, grease and smoothness check. So you will now join them in playing your part. On the command all lift your skirts… lift!’

To the new girls’ utter astonishment, every other girl about them bent forward and grasped the front hem of her skirt where it hung just above her knees and lifted it up to the level of her chest, completely exposing herself from the waist down. And such was the power of peer-group pressure and the natural desire to conform to the actions of the masses, that the five found themselves, even as they blushed in embarrassment and confusion, reaching down to their own skirts and copying them.

‘Turn and present your bottoms!’ Brownlow commanded.

As one the whole assembly turned about to face the back of the hall, bent and spread their legs and pulled their buttock cheeks wide to expose the clefts between them, presenting them to the eyes of the teachers on the stage. It was only then, facing the row behind them, that the five new girls realised with sick horror that all the other girls in the hall were totally naked under their skirts! Not only that but they all had perfectly smooth-shaven pubic mounds and the puckered mouths of their bottom holes were shiny with grease.

‘Face front!’ Brownlow snapped.

The assembled girls turned and faced front again, standing neatly in their rows and gazing up at him expectantly as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

But Brownlow was not looking at them but at the five new girls. His beetling brows were creased into a scowl of anger and his cheeks darkened. He pointed a big stubby finger at them.

‘You five… get up here right now!’

Confused and trembling, Tess, Emma, Ruth, Heather and Natasha slowly climbed the steps and walked onto the stage.

‘What you mean by such a flagrant disregard of school rules?’ he thundered at them.

‘I… We…… Don’t know… Sir,’ the girls stammered brokenly.

‘Didn’t you read the copies of the school regulation and dress code we sent you?

Meekly they shook their heads, looking from one to the other in the hope that some sign of understanding would dawn on their faces. But they were all equally lost. None of them could remember seeing any such document. In fact they realized with the beginnings of sickening disquiet, that they knew next to nothing at all about Ringsdean. What were they doing here?

‘This is a very bad beginning…’ Brownlow said. Suddenly he reached out and squeezed their breasts through their blazers, making them flinch aside and blush afresh. ‘What? Are you all wearing bras as well?’

Shivering they nodded their heads.

‘They are not permitted either. You will never wear them into school again, do you understand?’

Terrified they nodded once again.

‘Meanwhile you will take off your panties right here and now!’

‘No… please…Sir,’ Emma choked out, ‘you can’t mean it…’

‘Most certainly I do mean it, Miss Rowe!’ Brownlow said. ‘And if you do not comply with my instruction within the next ten seconds, you will all suffer most grievously!’

The five confused and frightened girls looked about them. Behind them was the row of impassive male teachers while in front were the ranks of pretty schoolgirl faces all looking up at them without the slightest sign of sympathy or mercy. Even the school matron was looking at them expectantly, her bright eyes shining. Somehow, incredibly, they were the ones in the wrong. They felt young and foolish as the weight of authority seemingly infused within the very walls of the building bore down upon them, compelling them to obey. They had no choice…

Miserably, with clumsy fingers, they pulled their panties down and stepped out of them. The matron stepped up and took the still warm scraps of fabric from their trembling hands.

‘Now lift your skirts again and display ourselves properly, so we can see what other contraventions of school rules you have committed,’ Brownlow snapped.

Feeling as though they were about to faint, the five girls dragged their skirts up high and hung their heads and bit their lips in deepest shame as they exposed their young bodies naked between waist and sock tops to both teachers and pupils.

Brownlow walked along the row of them as though inspecting their pubic pelts of sable, brunette, red and blonde. He prodded at their soft curls with his big fingers, making them flinch and whimper.

‘Female pubic hair is a sign of maturity but here in Ringsdean you are still considered to be pupils, learners, inferiors and juveniles,’ Brownlow declared. ‘You can grow it when you graduate but not before. Turnabout!’

Too shocked to demure, the girls all turned, presenting their bottoms to the assembled ranks.

‘Bend and display!’ Brownlow snapped again.

Once more the five obeyed, reaching behind them and pulling their buttock cheeks wide to expose the dark pits of their anuses as the assembly had earlier. By now they were so horribly confused and stunned by events that they felt as though they had stepped into some perverted Wonderland.

Brownlow walked back down the row of their naked trembling buttocks, giving them quick snaps of his big hand as he passed by which made their soft cheeks shiver. ‘No, no, no… not good enough!’ he declared. At the end he said sternly: ‘In Ringsdean girls’ bottom orifices are kept properly cleaned and greased at all times for ease of access. This and the matter of you non-regulation pubic bushes must be dealt with straight away. Fetch the necessary implements, Matron. Meanwhile, gentlemen, bring out the racks…’

While the matron left the stage and exited the Hall by side door, the other teachers cleared their chairs aside and then moved round behind the stage curtains. These were drawn back to reveal an array of five platforms mounted on small wheels. They bore forked upright posts ending in pivot mounts which supported sets of parallel wooden beams which were fitted with rows of thick buckled leather straps. At the moment they stood vertically with small wooden mounting blocks set on the bases of the stands between them. These devices were wheeled forward to the front of the stage.

‘Remove all your clothes except for your socks and shoes,’ Brownlow snapped at the five terrified young women. ‘We might as well see you properly while we have the opportunity…’

If they had imagined things could not get any more embarrassing or frightening then the sight of the ominous devices proved otherwise. They were all filled with the instinctive desire to flee from this madness. But with the teachers crowding about them there was no escape.

Sobbing and trembling, they stripped off their blazers, shirts and bras to leave themselves naked except for their socks and shoes. Instinctively they tried to cover their bare breasts and pubes, but they were allowed not even that slight degree of modesty. A pair of teachers closed in about each one of them, taking hold of their wrists and pulling them over to the racks. Their faces were impassive and their grasp was strong, cold and hard. The girls were made to stand on the wooden blocks set on the platforms of the devices, raising their bodies up between the parallel vertical beams. In disbelief they watched their own arms being dragged up above their heads and cuffed to the top ends of the pivot mounted beams. There were longer straps hung from the middle of the beams and these were pulled out across between them and buckled about their waists and pulled tight, pinching their flesh painfully. With their upper bodies supported their feet were lifted off the blocks and their legs were spread wide and their ankles were cuffed in turn to the bottom ends of the beams. Now they were suspended spread-eagled tautly between the straps and cuffs clear of the blocks they had stood upon.

Sprung pins were pulled out of the mounting posts and the beams pivoted freely. The girls yelped as they felt their bodies tipped backwards, exposing their widespread legs and pubic mounds to the gaze of the girls in the Hall. Every part of them that they had once thought of as private was now on display.

Fine wispy red curls framed Emma’s plump, deep narrow public cleft. Meanwhile on her head she had a cascade of rich auburn hair held back by a hairband, contrasting with her creamy pale skin. Her friendly face was open and bright and she had light eye brows, bright green almond eyes and a neat nose. Her big proud breasts stood out from her slender chest, capped with light pink nipples. Her buttock cheeks were round and soft and as milk-pale as her breasts.

Natasha’s pubes were covered by a dark blonde fuzz of hair from out of which pouted her inner labia tongue. She had an amiable, amused face, blue eyes and a mane of straight honey blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Her skin was clear and lightly tanned. She had soft high breasts with large brown nipples and pale fleshy buttocks

Ruth’s pubic curls were thick and dark in keeping with her slightly olive skin and Mediterranean looks. The hair on her head was thick and black and she had bold eyebrows, a firm nose and a trim figure. She had strong shoulders that helped carry high prominent rounded breasts with pale nipples and firm rotund buttocks.

A thin delta of brown pubic hair covered Tess’s prominent pubic mound. Her skin was lightly bronzed and she had a lean, strong and compact figure with slim hips. Short brunette hair crowned a slightly elfin face with an uptilted pretty nose, green eyes, fine arched eyebrows and a cupid bow upper lip. Her breasts were small and high with conical red-brown stand-up nipples, while her bottom was pale, tight and neat.

Heather had a broad delta of pubic curls which veiled a thick-lipped pouting cleft. She had thick black collar length wavy hair and a well-developed figure, fleshy buttocks and full breasts crowned by large brown nipples with sharply defined edges and prominent central buds. Her face was heart-shaped with a narrow straight nose, deep serious dark eyes, a neat pointed chin and a wide mouth.

Brownlow’s eyes burned with deep inner satisfaction as he surveyed their naked bodies. They moaned and whimpered and tugged at their straps, but they were held fast.

‘Think of this as your first lesson of the day,’ he told then. ‘Obedience and discipline above all else. There will be no backsliding or evasion. You will comply with our rules or you will be punished, it is as simple as that.’

Matron reappeared on stage carrying a tray with a bowl of water, a cloth, shaving soap, a pair of scissors, a jar of petroleum jelly and a razor set out on it.

‘You will now politely ask the matron to shave your pubic mounds and grease your anuses, so you are presented as proper Ringsdean girls should be,’ Brownlow told them.

But the idea of such intimacy appalled them and they whimpered and shook their heads, pleading for him to let them stay as they were. Brownlow scowled.

‘Present them for punishment!’ he commanded the teachers. ‘They clearly need a lesson in discipline…’

The teachers flipped the pivoting frames forward so that the girls now hung with their heads down and their bottoms turned to the back of the stage. Brownlow unhooked his cane and walked along the rear of the array of frames, examining their bare spread buttocks that were now upturned and exposed. ‘Three strokes each to start with, I think,’ he declared.

The cane hissed through the air and cracked against Emma’s soft pale fleshy bottom cheeks. Even as she screamed and clenched her cheeks tight while a bar of fire seemed to burn into them he had moved on to Ruth, landing a blow on her glossy olive rump. A couple of strides, then the swish and crack of the cane and then he moved on again. In seconds he had the whole row of girls writhing and whimpering in their frames, twisting and straining at the straps and cuffs that secured them while the wooden stands creaked and rattled. Then he worked his way back again delivering the second of the three promised blows to each set of helpless naked bottom cheeks. By the third and final pass all the girls were sobbing helplessly, tears burning in their reddened eyes and trickling down their flushed cheeks. Meanwhile their trembling buttocks glowed with unnatural heat and were crisscrossed by scarlet cane stripes.

‘Now you will apologise for breaking school rules and beg matron to shave and grease you,’ Brownlow commanded.

The shocking pain had swept away all thoughts of maintaining their pride and dignity. They broke out into a babble of tumbling, semi-coherent pleas and apologies.

‘I’m so sorry I broke the rules… sorry Sir… please shave my pussy, Matron… cut it all off… I want to be smooth… grease my bottom, Matron!’

‘Turn them back again,’ Brownlow commanded.

The frames were flipped so that the girls’ groins were lifted upright and blatantly displayed once more. Methodically the matron worked her way along the line of them, carefully clipping away their curls, applying soap and dexterously using the razor so that pubic mounds of soft naked cleft flesh were exposed to view. And once she had wiped each freshly shaven mount clean and dry she applied a blob of petroleum jelly to the tight orifice below it.

When she was done she stepped aside and Brownlow made another tour of inspection, nodding in approval as he stroked the mouths of the tender orifices now revealed to his eyes. The girls squirmed and shivered in revulsion at his intimate touch on their newly shorn love lips, but they were too crushed and fearful by now to make any show of their feelings beyond barely stifled groans and whimpers.

‘That’s much better,’ he said. ‘These are well up to Ringsdean standards. Now let’s check their rears… Flip them again!’

The frames were turned once again to raise their bottoms into view. Brownlow walked down the line of them, sliding a finger between their still hot cheeks to caress and fondle the tight mouths of their anuses.

‘Yes, much better,’ he said. ‘But are they hot and tight enough within? I think I’ll make my interior inspection now…’

Before the five girls could quite take in the full horror of what he meant by those words, he unbuttoned his flies and pulled out a huge erection, the purple head of which was showing beyond its receding foreskin. Licking his lips, his eyes blazing with lust, he stepped onto the platform supporting Emma’s frame. Standing between her spread legs he took hold of her hips and rammed his shaft up into her greased bottom hole.

While the other girls looked on in horror Emma squealed as she felt the huge hard slug of flesh parting the slippery ring of her anus and being driven up into the innocently tight sheath of her rectum, making it stretch in ways nature never intended.

It only took Brownlow a few quick thrusts before he grunted and ejaculated, spurting his seed up into her hot tight depths. For a few moments he held her tight, savouring the young fresh resilience of her body and the unwilling embrace of her rear passage about his shaft. Then he pulled his sticky penis out of her, stepped to one side and rammed it into Ruth’s bottom.

By now Tess, Heather and Natasha were going wild with terror, moaning and crying and struggling frantically in their frames to try to tear themselves free as they saw the terrible fate approaching them. But they were too tightly bound and utterly helpless. One by one Brownlow took his cruel pleasure with them in turn, carrying with them on his slippery shaft the heat and juices of their fellow new girls’ passages as he did so. And through their tears they saw the sea of bright girlish faces staring up at them not with sympathy, but only excitement and deep fascination.

Finally Brownlow buttoned up and stepped aside, leaving the line of them sagging from their straps, sobbing and trembling, dizzy with shock and pain, while his sperm dripped from their aching, ravaged bottoms and down between their spread legs.

‘You’ll do,’ he declared contentedly. ‘Now take them down and get them cleaned up. Lessons start in ten minutes and you don’t want to be late…’

This could not be happening to them! It was all wrong… impossibly, terribly wrong! If this was a nightmare then they wanted to wake up from it now! But it seemed there was no awakening and no escape from the discipline of Ringsdean school.