Sara was a beautiful young girl; standing five foot eight feet inches tall and
weighing one hundred and twenty pounds. She had shoulder length honey blonde hair with
bright green eyes, and in the last year her hips widened and her breasts grew to a
generous 38D cup. At first the changes in her body worried her, knowing it would soon be
time to leave, but always being a practical girl, she figured she had to grow up
eventually.
She knew that once the girls’ bodies started to look womanlier, it was time for
them to leave the School. It was where she spent her life, at least her entire memory of
it. No one here gave it a name; the School was all it was called, its student body
populated with young girls. She did not remember arriving here, but her earliest memories
revolved around older girls making her feel comfortable, like she did now for the new
youngsters that arrived.
She knew what parents were, but never knew hers, as all the girls here were
orphaned like her. All she identified with was what occurred within these walls, having
never left the grounds. She was taught to read, write, cook, clean, and do other domestic
chores. She was always told she was being trained for a vocation in life, so she could
make a contribution to society. Things like math, science, history, or politics were
foreign to her, deemed unnecessary for any of the girls here, their futures focused on a
life of servitude.
All the girls were trained to obey authority, and everyone learned it from the
sting of the proctor’s canes. When she was younger, corrections were delivered across her
palms, painful but relatively mild. The older girls like her, if given a corrective, were
brought to the Stand. A short stool they would bend over as their rumps were exposed to an
audience of their schoolmates. There the canes would sting and embarrass them at the same
time. Even sweet Sara had experienced it, but as she was a fast learner, it had been quite
some time since she was corrected in front of her schoolmates.
When she woke up this morning, the clanging bell that roused all students echoing
in her room, she felt this day would be different. As she swung her long legs over the
edge of her small bed, she saw the note on the floor just inside the door. It simply
stated that she was to see the Principal before breakfast. She knew what it meant, she was
leaving and it scared her. Though they were kept in the dark on many issues, all the girls
here knew that when a student left, it was always between their morning shower and
breakfast. She remembered Cindy, a friend of hers, the last time Sara saw her she was in
the shower sobbing, but never came to breakfast, or was ever seen again.
She looked around her room, the only place she had ever lived, but was sure she
would not miss it. It was small, barely eight foot by ten, with her small bed, a cot
really, and a small table and chair. There was a window, but too high to look out of it,
it was narrow and just below the ten-foot high ceiling. The walls and floor were a bland
white, and as no girl here had any personal possessions, it was devoid of anything to tie
her to it.
She put on her panties and tunic, having taken to sleeping in the nude recently.
When she was younger the tunic came down to her knees, but as she grew she saw the hem
climb up her long longs and now it did not even reach half way down her thighs. When the
buzzer sounded she knew her door had just unlocked and she filed with the rest of the
girls in her corridor down to the showers.
As she entered the large communal shower room she removed her tunic and panties,
placing them in the laundry bin as always. She entered the showers and picked a
showerhead, waiting for the water to start. She looked around at the other girls, all
older ones like her, but it was clear she was the most physically developed. Her
observation was based on the note she received this morning and it punctuated what she
already expected.
She turned to Elsa, one of her friends, and said, “I got the note this morning, I
doubt I will see you again, tell all my friends I will miss them.”
Elsa looked stricken, she was a year younger and far less developed than Sara, and
she said sadly, “I will miss you Sara, you were a good friend.” Sara was her mentor and
losing her depressed Elsa, but like all the girls here, she knew they all eventually left
this place.
The water started just then, and as always the girls quickly washed their hair and
bodies, having only ten minutes before the water would stop. Sara was not like Cindy, no
sadness dogged her, and apart from the few girls she really liked, she was tired of this
place and ready for something new. She hoped that nice people would take her as their
maid, as that was what most girls here expected to become after leaving.
When the water stopped, the girls shuffled from the showers and took a towel from a
line of them hanging on hooks on the wall behind them. They dried themselves quickly and
deposited them in another laundry bin as they proceeded to the next room where they
received a fresh tunic and panties. As Sara stood in line, watching the girls in front of
her collect today’s clean clothes, she got a bit nostalgic that it was likely the last
time she would do this.
When she stepped up to the proctor that distributed their clothes, the woman looked
up and said, “Sara, you are seeing the Principal this morning. Take this and dress in that
room,” as she handed her a fresh tunic and pointed to a door behind Sara.
Sara took it, turned and walked to the door, opening it and stepping inside the
small room. When she closed it she heard a loud click and knew there was no going back. It
was not really a room, being only four feet square, with no furniture or windows. She
unfolded the tunic and looked for her panties, but there were none, so she just slipped it
on and stood there waiting. Normal girls might have been uncomfortable, naked beneath the
tiny garment, but girls here were never made to feel embarrassed by their bodies. When
they received a public caning, it was not baring their rumps that embarrassed them, it was
the act of being reprimanded in front of the others.
Her wait was short and the door soon opened with the same proctor standing in the
now empty dressing room. She said, “Follow me.”
Sara walked down the corridors, looking around and thinking it was time to leave,
she was more than ready. They arrived at a door and the proctor knocked twice before
opening the door and ushering Sara inside. Inside there was a well-appointed office, lined
with shelves of books and hosting a large wooden desk. A large padded chair was behind it
and a small wooden one faced it.
“Sit here and wait,” said the proctor, pointing at the small chair.
Sara sat and crossed her legs, hiding her exposed sex, feeling a bit nervous, as
she had never met the Principal before now. No student ever did, but rumor had it was that
the Principal was a man, something all the girls wondered about as all the proctors and
teachers were women. In her memory she had never seen a real man, she had seen pictures,
but wondered what they were like. She fidgeted in her seat, wondering what was going to
happen next.
She heard the door open and turned to look, but before she could see anything a
deep voice like none she had ever heard, said, “Eyes forward girl.”
She snapped her head back around staring at the empty chair behind the desk, now
relatively sure she would see her first man. The voice she just heard sounded like no
woman’s, it was far too deep, and she was eager to finally see the mysterious Principal.
After years of living a simple routine, she had her first taste of the unknown and she
liked the way it made her feel.
The man walked around the desk and into her view, making her heart beat faster when
she saw his rugged good looks. He had dark curly hair, cut short, but the little patch of
hair surrounding his mouth and covering his chin really attracted her. He was tall, over
six feet, and his body, though dressed all in black, was lean and fit. He sat in the
chair; opening a folder he carried in with him. She stared at him with wide-eyed wonder,
and the little flutter between her legs confused her, as she never felt it before when
meeting someone. There were nights when she was alone in her room that the flutter came,
but she always tried to ignore it.
“Good morning Sara, I am the Principal and you are here because it is time for you
to move on to the next level of training. We have taught you all we can and it is time for
you to learn a specific vocation in life,” he said, as he leafed through the file.
She remained quiet, fixated on his face, one she found attractive in a way she did
not understand. After reading a few more pages, he looked up and said, “You are a very
beautiful young lady with a pleasant and accommodating disposition, so you have been
chosen to become a pleasure servant, a rare honor for a girl. Many leave here to become
simple domestics, but you are being sent to a special school where you will learn how to
please people, in special ways.”
“Thank you sir,” she replied, feeling good that he complimented her, but having no
idea what he actually meant.
“Stand up and remove your tunic,” he said, looking back at her file.
Without hesitating the young girl stood and slid the tunic off her shoulders,
letting it pool at her ankles. She stood at attention, as she was taught, her back
straight, feet together, and arms at her sides. When he looked back up at her he smiled,
impressed with her beautiful breasts and flat stomach. She was growing a bush between her
legs, but it was sparse and light, not hiding her sex at all.
“Turn around and bend over,” he said.
She obeyed, as she always did when an authority figure commanded her, turning and
bending over the chair where she had been sitting. It was a strange request, but she was
accustomed to proctors and teachers doing similar body inspections over the years. There
was that time when she was much younger that she started bleeding between her legs, and a
similar inspection was given as they assessed the problem. They started giving her a daily
pill and the condition hardly ever returned.
While she was remembering that time, she heard him say, “You may take your seat
again, but hand me your tunic first.”
She bent further down, scooped it up and turned back to face him. She handed it to
him before sitting back down. He placed the meager garment behind his desk and looked at
her, a different kind of stare in his eyes, he looked hungry or something, she thought.
She sat there, her knees together and her hands resting on her knees, hoping he was
pleased with her behavior so far.
“You look fine and healthy, ready for your new adventure. In a minute a proctor
will bring your traveling clothes, is there anything you would like to say before you go?”
he asked, that hungry look fading and a pleasant smile crossing his face.
“I just want to thank you, the teachers, and the proctors for taking care of me all
these years,” she replied, anxious to find out where she was going, but knowing better
than to ask.
The door opened and a proctor entered carrying a small bundle. Another tunic was
handed to her, but it was a dark blue compared to the usual plain white she was used to
wearing. She put it on; once again no panties were offered to her. Then she took the
shoes, a truly unusual garment, as she never wore any before, as all girls stayed barefoot
here. They slipped over her feet and felt tight, simple cloth uppers with a rubber sole,
also the same dark blue. The proctor draped a matching cloak over her shoulders, clasping
it at her throat, with it covering her down to her knees.
Once she was dressed, the Principal said, “Good luck in life Sara, and always
remember to learn your lessons well.”
“”Thank you sir,” she said, as the proctor took her by the arm and led her out of
the office.
She was led down several corridors before they approached a large pair of doors.
The proctor opened and stepped through one of them, turning and ushering Sara out. They
were in the front of the large building, a place she had never seen. They had outdoor
exercise periods, but it was always in the walled garden behind the building. She saw a
van sitting there, she had read about cars and such, but this was the first real one she
had ever seen.
The proctor guided her behind it, where a pair of doors were opened, and helped her
step inside. There were wooden benches lining both sides, with metal walls behind them,
and she sat where the proctor indicated. She noticed that another wall was at the front of
the van, with just a small slot were light came in to the back.
“Keep your hands in your lap,” said the proctor, as she used belts to strap Sara to
the bench. Two crossed over her body, keeping her tight against the side wall of the van.
Another was cinched across her waist, locking her hands in place on her lap. She wondered
why this was being done, but just assumed it was for her safety, remembering reading about
‘safety belts’ in vehicles.
When she was tightly fixed in place, the proctor said, ‘Goodbye and good luck Sara,
just remember to listen and learn what you are taught and you will be fine.”
“Thank you ma’am,” she said, as she watched her get out and close the doors to the
van. It became dark, except for the small light coming from the slot at the front, no
other windows or light visible inside the dark van.
She said a silent farewell to the School as she heard the van first start and then
move, taking her away from the only place she ever knew. But as they drove along she began
to think of what the Principal had said, she was special and would be trained as a
pleasure servant. She wondered what it was like to be a pleasure servant, but it sounded
better than becoming a cook or maid. She had no clue what he really meant, but once she
arrived at her destination, she was sure the truth would be revealed. She tried to enjoy
the long drive, imagining all sorts of scenarios that had no bearing on what was about to
happen.
| 
