************************************
The campus consisted of the teaching buildings, the staff quarters and
the student dormitories. There were six floors to the dorm and it
could house up to five hundred students, although only four hundred
lived there at the moment. Three floors went to the boys and three to
the girls.
The second floor girl's dorm that was the target of tonight's raid
consisted of four rooms housing fifteen girls each. The prefects
board was fifty strong and almost half of them were here tonight. At
nine pm, an hour before the compulsory bedtime hour when the lights
were turned off, twenty prefects descended on the dorm. Five were
assigned to each of the four rooms and they moved in quickly and
immediately instructed the girls to move away from their belongings and
to stand next to a blank wall before they had the opportunity or time
to hide any illegal items they may have in their possession.
But the prefects knew immediately that they were probably too late for
that already. The girls were standing around with a look of intense
innocence on their faces when they arrived. They had probably gotten
wind of the raid or seen the prefects arriving at the dorm
through the window minutes earlier.
The Assistant Head Prefect, Peter, having been gently instructed on the
pitfalls of gender equality, had carefully ensured that a boy and a
girl would conduct the body checks simultaneously whilst the another
three would check the room and go through the girls' belongings. To
ensure he was not deemed as being discriminatory, Peter himself would
do a
body check together with Cecilia White, a younger, Year 9 prefect. The
other three prefects assigned to the same room were James Beech,
another Year 9, and two girls, Mia Thornton and Sue Ling.
James, Mia and Sue had been well briefed on the techniques of a spot
check search. They went over the room with a fine comb,
discovering hastily hidden objects of interest. The girls were smart,
and had hidden these objects far from their own beds and
cupboards so that the owner could not be easily identified. Asking them
who owned this lipstick or that perfume bottle obviously wouldn't work
either.
There were more deviously hidden objects, such as the iPod James found
wrapped in many layers of paper and placed in the wastepaper basket
among tissues and other rubbish. Like jewellery, the school
discouraged students from bringing expensive items such as iPods as it
would encourage materialistic snobbery and even thievery. There were
also objects hidden outside
the window on a little ledge on the building wall, objects taped
to the bottom of beds, hidden in pillows, taped to the little space on top of the door and many other
ingenious places.
Under Assistant Head Prefect Peter Locke's instructions the fifteen
girls in the room lined up along
a blank wall on one end of the dormitory. As the chapter on Body
Searches and Spot Checks in the Prefect's Manual stipulated, they were
to face
the wall, with their feet apart and their arms raised and palms pressed
to
the wall above them - a position not dissimilar from that used by
police forces. They reluctantly assumed this position with much
shuffling and protesting. This was because the regulation sleep wear
for female students in
the summer months was a thin, white shift that was supposed to have a
hemline at the knees.
But in the fallen state of the academy's student discipline, the number
of shifts that even came near
the knee was small. Most girls didn't bother to replace their shifts as
they outgrew them since they only wore them to bed anyway.
In that line of fifteen girls, a good many wore shifts that barely
reached mid thigh. And as they faced the wall, leaning forward and
reluctantly spreading their feet, those shifts slid even higher,
exposing the lower
cheeks of many a pink, girlish bottom. They were used to wearing skimpy
shifts like this in their own room where only girls were allowed, but
with Peter and James present today, they blushed
heavily. The more timid girls closed their eyes and hung their heads in
embarrassment as
they stood there with limbs spread and their bums raised, exposing the
thin, white knickers they wore to sleep.
Peter felt a stirring in his loins. Embarrassed at his own reaction and
lack of control, he did his best to suppress the urge as he watched the
fifteen girls of all shapes and sizes lined up before him. They were a
mix of girls from Years 8 to 12, so the youngest would be thirteen and
the oldest seventeen. Some were trim and fit, with well-toned muscles
that came from much sporting activity. Some were rounded and womanly,
lush and firm in all the correct parts; their bodies well developed
despite their age. And some were the opposite - late developers who
were thin, awkward and gangly, and, much to their own chagrin,
completely flat. Some were chubby, cute and huggable. Some were tall,
broad and bony. Some were short, barely reaching Peter's chest. Every
shade of blonde, brunette, black and red. Each student was cute in her
own unique way even though they were clothed in completely uniform
white shifts and white regulation knickers.
Peter and Cecilia started from opposite ends and would search their way
down the line till they met in the middle. As Peter stepped up to the
first girl in line, he steeled his frayed nerves and cleared his
throat, 'Keep your feet apart and hold still. I'm going to begin now.'
The girl was a sixteen year old with a nice body and a sweet,
heart-shaped face framed by long, straight raven locks that were cut in
a page boy style at the front. She glanced at him and quickly turned
away,
her face turning beet red as the tall, roguishly handsome senior
prefect patted her down.
He proceeded according to the book. Standing
behind her, he started with a perfunctory examination of her hair,
since small items could be hidden underneath with perhaps, the aid of
sticky tape. He ran his fingers through the silky strands before moving
down to her neck and shoulders, his fingers running lightly over them.
He then moved his palms to her armpits, feeling the lightest dusting of
downy hairs there. He continued down her sides, before circling back
to pat her front and back.
Peter was breathing heavily by then, and he was not alone. The girl who
was a year his junior was not in the habit of being patted down by
handsome and popular boys. None of the girls were. Even though they
were a
coed boarding school, the students lived in dorms in close proximity
with
dozens of other students. They ate together, showered together and went
to
class together. There was hardly ever any privacy at all. Apart from
the quick stolen kiss, the occasional holding of hands and the
exchanging of secret letters, most of the students were quite sexually
innocent for teenagers of this day and age. You really couldn't do
anything more with a guy or girl, unless you wanted your whole dorm
privy to it
as well.
But the flushed and sweating girl's body search was hardly over. The
regulation undergarment for the girls was a plain, white camisole, or,
if you were more developed, a white bra. This girl now wore a bra
underneath her white shift. Whilst the thin shift could not conceal
anything from a simple pat down, a bra could. And so could her cotton
knickers. The specified procedures for a search were thorough and Peter
had no choice but to abide by the Manual. He had to do his Duty.
His strong, large hands reached under the hem of the girl's shift and
moved to the front. She gasped softly as she felt his cool hands
touching her hot, bare skin. Her knees suddenly went all wobbly
and she nearly slipped down to the floor. Luckily, Peter quickly caught
and steadied her. She flushed even more as he leaned her body against
his so that she would not fall. Reaching round
the front of her body, Peter's arms held her in a semi embrace. Her
back was pressed into his front, and Peter was trying his very best to
keep his very uncomfortable crotch away
from those luscious buns.
His hands pulled her bra aside and entered unfamiliar ground. He had
had his share of stolen kisses and all, but he'd never actually done
this. He
mentally scolded and reminded himself that this was, as the
Headmistress had
said, an 'unemotional and clinical procedure'. But it was difficult to
keep that in mind as he manhandled the shapely mounds that felt so
soft, yet firm at the same time. He let his fingers slide over them,
making sure nothing was hidden under the bra. As his rough fingers
brushed her nipples accidentally, they stiffened and the girl gritted
her teeth to stop the involuntary moan that nearly escaped her lips. He
finally
explored her cleavage, slipping his fortunate finger between the two
very full orbs. Satisfied that nothing was hidden there either, he
readjusted the displaced bra and his hand left her
breasts to her relief and disappointment, though the latter was well
hidden.
But the girl was in for a rude shock as she felt his fingers slip under
the waistband of her cotton knickers. She yipped in surprise as she
felt the intruder trespass that virgin territory. Sweat beaded Peter's
forehead
as he felt the springy hairs in that untouched southern land. His
fingers reached deeper into the unexplored bushland until he felt her
smooth and slightly moist lips. He felt the trepidation Captain Cook
must have had when that intrepid explorer discovered Terra Australis.
With the same care as the famous navigator, Peter's fingers charted
those virgin waters, gently tracing them, making them quiver in
anticipation and fear. The girl was blushing so hotly he feared she was
having a fever. And her eyes were tightly squeezed shut, a sparkling
pearl dusting her shivering lashes.
Peter was almost to the point of bursting himself. He feared that at
any moment he might just snap, throw the girl to the ground and take
her there and then. He quickly moved his hand to her back where he slid
his finger down between her pert buns and swiped her nether hole
lightly. He withdrew immediately before she had time to react and he
stepped back, finished with his inspection.
'You're clear. Go wait in that corner,' he told her as he began to move
towards the next girl in line - he didn't know how he was going to do
all of them, one girl was already more than he could take.
'Wait... I'm Hilda...' As he passed, she whispered softly so that only
the two of them could hear her. She
didn't know why she did that. But somehow, she just needed him to at least know her
name after he'd known her in so many other intimate ways. She suddenly
wished she hadn't said that. She felt so stupid. He was just doing his
duty - he hadn't meant anything by that touch. But Peter gave her a
small smile just before she turned away and suddenly, she was glad she
had said it.
The next girl was much easier on him. She was a thirteen year old in
her first year at the Academy. Scrawny and with a body shape that
approximated a washboard, Peter was reminded of his little sister whom
he had bathed till she was ten. And she was just as ticklish too. She
snorted and giggled helplessly as he searched her and Peter shook his
head and smiled. He gave her a mock frown and she giggled even more.
With his head turned away so no one else could see him, Peter made a
face at her, which elicited an explosive snort from her - he couldn't
help it, she brought out many fond memories of his sister, whom he
seldom saw since coming to boarding school. He gave her a quick search
under her knickers - she was as smooth as the day she was born - before
moving on.
He went from one girl to the next. Some made him breath and sweat
heavily, his crotch tightening as he ran his hands up and down their
shy bodies. He was thankful for the others in between, like the young
one who reminded him of his kid sister. These quickly helped his rising
member deflate again. At the fourth girl, he had a shock when he ran
his finger over her trembling private lips. His jaw dropped and he told
the girl to step out of the line. Calling Cecilia over, he told her to
examine this girl. She did so and her eyes widened as her fingers
fished around inside the knickers of the by now deeply embarrassed and
fearful girl.
'I'll try to remove it,' Cecilia told Peter. Her hands gave a gentle,
tentative tug and the girl's body jerked as she gasped loudly.
'I don't think its going to come out easily. Something's caught there,'
Cecilia said.
'Ah... um... stand to one side, we'll take you back and have it
properly removed after we're done,' Peter said, rather flabbergasted,
to say the least. By now, the other girls in the dorm and the prefects
were all intensely curious but neither the girl, Peter nor Cecilia
revealed the nature of this very private matter. Seventeen pairs of
eyes did notice that the girl walked rather gingerly in a bow-legged
fashion.
Peter then realised then that he had been wrong to merely let
his fingers brush over the girls' vaginal lips and anal rosebud, as he
had been doing earlier. The Manual had clearly outlined the method by
which a full body search was
to be done, but he had thought it highly unlikely that a girl would
hide some illegal possession inside
her. He had almost been fooled by that last girl and he had found the
hidden item
completely by accident. It exposed the fallacy of his thinking and he
now sorely regretted his error. What he had thought was 'lenience' and
'kindness' towards the girls was merely negligence. Peter firmly
resolved to carry out the rest of the search to the full extent of the
law, abiding by every jot and tittle of the Manual. And he also made a
mental memo to self to emphasise what he had just learned in the
training of prefects in the future.
As Peter stepped up to the next girl, their eyes met and both blushed
and looked away. In his busyness with leading and conducting the check,
he had not even noticed her - his classmate, Sandy. In fact, she sat
right next to him in class. But in the crowd of girls, he hadn't seen
her till
now. He wondered if he should get Cecilia to search her instead. Sandy
was more than a classmate, she was his friend and he wasn't sure he
could look her in the eye after he'd touched her all over tonight. It
was one thing to intimately search some girl you did not know, it was
another thing to do that to someone you saw everyday. He was afraid of
offending her deeply and spoiling the friendship they enjoyed. He
hesitated for a moment. If she were to show even the slightest sign of
unease, he would ask Cecilia to take over for him.
But Sandy meekly turned to face the wall, raised her hands and pressed
them to the wall, and stood with feet wide apart. His eyes fell to the
pinkish swell of the moons she exposed as she did so, for she had the
misfortune to wear tonight, her oldest shift, which she had first worn
three years ago. The overly short shift rose up obscenely, a testimony
of the growth spurt her body of seventeen years had experienced since
then.
Peter steeled himself, stilling his trembling hands and moving them
slowly over Sandy's body, gently patting, his fingers roving over her
lush charms. She had filled out nicely since he first met her years ago
when they'd both entered the Academy at age thirteen. And he was
finding out just how much she'd filled out - his fingers lingering at
her waist, brushing lightly over her thighs, running up her sides,
rubbing her shoulders. Sandy closed her eyes and endured silently. But
it wasn't humiliation and outrage she endured - rather, it was a
strange
tingle that started where he touched her skin and slowly deepened and
spread over her whole body like a warmth that was both comfortable and
irritating. It irritated in a sense that she couldn't quite put into
words. It was an empty feeling, a needy
feeling. But what was it that she needed? She didn't know herself. Did
she need to be body searched? It was a ludicrous thought, but she
couldn't think of a better way to express the alien sensations that
invaded her.
Meanwhile, Peter made an amazing discovery. Whilst he knew Sandy was
prone to blushing shyly at times, he never knew the extent of her blush. The thin,
fragile shift barely covered her, and as his hands wandered, a red
flush began to spread over her body wherever his hands touched. He
almost feared she was having some sort of allergic reaction, but she
showed no other signs of that. He realised with mounting surprise and
not a little excitement that his full body search was giving her a full
body blush. And when Sandy saw her body's reaction and knew that Peter
saw it too (and not just Peter but the whole dorm) - well, she blushed
even more hotly.
Soon the body pat was over - and Sandy already felt like she'd run a
marathon. When Peter reached under her short shift, the sudden intimate
feel of his arms brushing her sides and his hands cupping her shivering
breasts made her gasp in shock and surprise. It was the biggest
surprise of her life because she felt pleasure like she had never
known. Peter forgot himself completely the moment his hands held
Sandy's femininity.
The phrase in his mind was 'perfect balance'. They
were soft and yielding, yet firm and succulent. Heavy, yet they seemed
to float weightlessly on her chest. Round, and yet her nipples were
sharp enough to cut. Ripe, yet fresh and tender. Wanton, yet radiating
purity and innocence. He had just hefted the mammaries of four other
girls (though one of them had none to speak of) but even with his
limited experience (those four were his only experience) he could tell that
he was holding premium-grade, blue-ribbon, award-winning, breast meat.
He just wanted to hold them in his hands forever; his palms gently
rolling the globes, his fingers tenderly rolling the nipples.
Sandy was beginning to doubt Peter's
body search methodology, but she didn't quite care at that moment. She
wished he wouldn't stop. She exhaled deeply and to Peter's amazement,
she expanded even further in his grip. But the faint sound of her
breath escaping drew him back to reality. He blushed furiously and
mentally chastised himself for his lapse in professionalism. He
bitterly regretted it - what would the Headmistress think if she saw
him now? With regret and reluctance, he left Sandy's sweet melons and
continued with the search.
His brief lapse only strengthened his resolve to finish the search with
strict adherence to the Prefect's Manual. As his hand went into Sandy's
knickers and came into contact with her love bush, he began mentally
reciting the Thirty Steps to a Successful Body Search, relying on the
Manual to keep his mind straight. This time, instead of merely giving
the student a perfunctory feel, he had to insert his finger inside both cavities and verify that there
was absolutely nothing hidden therein. But his resolution met an
impediment. Sandy's orifice remained uncooperatively closed as he
attempted to conduct the search. Exerting a little more pressure, he
felt her opening yield a little as the tip of his finger slipped in
with difficulty.
Peter heard a faint hiss as Sandy exhaled through clenched teeth. He
saw the pain on her face and nearly panicked. He'd hurt his friend! He
sweated nervously as he stood there, his fingertip frozen in place - in
a very tight place. He imagined Sandy screaming and bleeding if he
forced his finger in. He imagined her never talking to him again. Just
then, as he stewed in his panic, a memory of some rumour, some story
someone had told him years ago, came to mind. It was one of those
schoolyard stories boys told each other - but in that story, it was
mentioned that the female had to be slowly manipulated by hand until
she got 'wet' and 'slippery' before a guy's 'thing' could go in.
Desperate for a way out (actually, a way in), he slowly, lightly, let his
fingers trail over
Sandy's lips. Seeing so signs of pain, anger or terror from her, he
decided it wouldn't hurt to keep trying. He repeated it again, slowly
stroking it like he would someone's pet iguana - gingerly and with
great care, as though afraid it might bite him any moment. She didn't
bite him, of course - but her mouth did eventually open and suck him
in. As her
slipperiness began to increase, his finger accidentally slipped inside
just a little bit. He immediately noticed how much easier the
passage of entry was this time. Greatly encouraged, Peter continued to
let
his fingers romance Sandy's pretty lips. If Sandy
had doubted Peter's search methodology earlier, she was now quite sure
it was
completely wrong. But she couldn't stop him. That needy feeling in her
swept away her reserve and her resolve. She wasn't quite sure what her
friend and classmate was doing but she wasn't about to resist.
Finally, Peter gained complete entry. Her muscles relaxed involuntarily
as he slid deep inside. It was then that his finger touched something.
Something that was blocking the canal. His eyes widened. Was Sandy
really hiding something in there? She winced as he prodded it
lightly and he almost laughed out loud when he realised his own
ignorance. It was her hymen! As he withdrew his finger, his already
thumping heart beat even faster as he realised what he had just
touched.
Her virginity. Her maidenhood. Her chastity. Peter stepped back from
Sandy, his mouth
slightly open. In his shock, the anal search that was supposed to be
next was
completely forgotten until much later that night when he was about to
fall asleep in bed.
He shook himself out of his reverie and looked about him. He saw that
Cecilia was just finishing with the last person in the line. As he
counted the number of girls in
line, he realised that he had only done five girls whereas Cecilia had
searched ten! He looked at her as she completed her last one and saw
that she was very thorough. How was it then, that she had searched
twice as many students as he had?? Peter began to feel nervousness
creeping in. Had he lingered too long? Had his touches been
longer than was appropriate? Guilt ate at him
as he realised that more than once, he had actually been enjoying
himself. Fear crept in next. Would everyone realise that he had done
only half the number of girls Cecilia did? Would they point their
fingers at him? Would they whisper behind their backs? Cecilia finally
finished. As they waited for James, Mia and Sue to finish searching the
room, Peter took Cecilia aside,
hoping to have a few words with her in private.
Peter cleared his throat nervously and forced a laugh, 'You were pretty
quick, eh, Cecilia? You did almost twice as many students as me...'
Cecilia gave him an inscrutable look. 'If you're afraid people will
think you're spending more time than is appropriate with each girl, you
needn't be,' she said.
'What? Of course not! Haha.... what a silly thought! I was just
complimenting you on your efficiency,' Peter laughed it off, his heart
thumping as he realised the younger prefect had read him like a book.
'What's your secret?' he asked, diverting the conversation.
Cecilia held up a single tube. The label said 'moisturiser and hand
cream'. Peter gaped.
'How did you check inside
them?' Cecilia asked. There were only two ways she thought he'd done
it. Either the quick, dry and painful way, or the long, wet and
painstaking way. Judging from
the amount of time he'd taken and the flushed, out of breath look the
students he searched had, he probably did it the long way. Of course,
she didn't know that he had not done a proper cavity check on the girls
except Sandy. The truth was, he had
spent too long on each girl, his mind wandering as his hands drifted
over them. None of the girls complained though. Maybe they would have
if the prefect searching them wasn't so tall, dark and handsome.
Peter merely blushed and mumbled something inaudible before changing
the topic, leaving Cecilia to draw her own assumptions. Ye gods, he
thought to himself, if he had fared this badly at the search, he
wondered how the other male prefects had done. He'd better press for a
thorough and comprehensive training on female body search methodologies
for the male prefects.
But he needn't have felt as guilty as he did. He wasn't the only one
who had enjoyed himself that night. The quick and efficient Cecilia had
too. Very much so, in fact. Ever since Cecilia White had punished
Angela Windleton yesterday morning, something had awakened inside her.
A dark seed had germinated; the eggs in the devil's own nest had
hatched; Cecilia White had her first taste of
power. Earlier, as she searched the girls, she realised that she had
near absolute power over them. The very ingenious Headmistress had
created rules such as Resisting a Prefect Discharging His/Her Duties,
which were pretty much open to any interpretation the prefect who was
doing the discharging wanted.
Cecilia's methodology was quite different from Peter's. She was brusque
and firm with each girl. 'Keep your feet apart! Stop moving, no
whispering,' she told them in a firm voice as she stepped up behind the
first girl. Cecilia knew all the right and wrong places to touch. She
knew how to run her finger in one quick motion down the side of the
student, from her hairless armpit to her flaring waist, making the poor
student's body jerk. She knew exactly how to let a nail accidentally
scratch an erect nubbin as she examined under a bra or camisole,
causing involuntary shudders in the helpless girl. She rewarded
obedient girls with feathery touches that made them weak on their
knees. And as for the disobedient ones who fidgeted and were reluctant
to comply,
she would correct the error of their ways with quick, fiery smacks on
their bare rumps. They were
Resisting a Prefect Discharging Her Duties after all. With a mix of
spine-tingling rewards and swift, stinging punishment, she kept the
girls in line - in a straight, wall-facing, face-blushing, tender
rump-exposing, feet-apart line.
Her examination of the contents of their cotton knickers was an
art form by itself. The communal environment of shared dorms and open
showers did not facilitate the development of masturbatory habits and
most of the girls and boys of the academy knew little except that
washing themselves in some areas sometimes brought unexpected
sensations of pleasure. But ever since she had been made a prefect,
Cecilia had
had the opportunity to do much more, for prefects had the luxury of
their own private bedrooms, unlike the common students who bunked in
the dorms. Cecilia was becoming quite adept with the
manipulation of her own anatomy and, thanks to the spot check they were
having, the anatomy of others.
Unlike Peter's 'negligent' and embarrassed examinations on the first
four of the girls and the anxious and ignorant fumblings he had made
with Sandy, Cecilia had no qualms with the orifices of her young prey.
Stepping up behind a student, Cecilia would press her well lubricated
index finger against her delicate girlhood, giving it a heartbreakingly
tender massage. The sudden pleasurable assault on their senses would
take them by surprise, causing them to give little gasps and sighs
under their breath as every muscle in their body relaxed. Then suddenly
and without warning, Cecilia's slippery and slender finger would thrust
roughly into their honeyed interiors, twisting, turning and curling.
The young girl would jerk and squirm, their mouths opening to emit
frightened little half moans which they did their best to
suppress as the prefect's molestations washed their innocent minds with
a
potent formula of pleasure and pain, desire and guilt, tingling joy and
burning humiliation.
None of Cecilia or Peter's actions was visible to the bystander of
course. The prefect's hands were just fumbling away unseen beneath
their clothing. The prefect had a deadpan expression that said 'On
Duty' and the reactions of the girls could written off as just girlish
shyness and an oversensitive sense of modesty. As long as they did not
spend too long - for a
very loose definition of 'long' - on a girl, nothing would appear
inappropriate.
Many of the girls present were actually older than the fourteen year
old prefect, but they were as pliable as moistened dough under young
Cecilia's dexterous fingers. She knew her limits of course. She was
brusque but never too rough. She
caused little pain, some discomfort, and a lot of humiliation. In fact,
her touch often brought pleasure, for she quickly realised
that the girls would be shamed by the betrayal of their bodies as they
burned with pleasure. In addition to that, she was a girl, and guilt
would weigh heavily on them
as they realised they had been aroused by another female. The young and
handsome Peter was certainly not the only one who left a trail of
aching nipples
and moistened virgins in his wake tonight.
Leaving one of the girl's panting and flushed, Cecilia stepped up to
the next one in the queue. It was Angela Windleton, her classmate.
Cecilia paused to regard the still reddened bottom that had been at the
end of her cane only a day ago. Cecilia let her finger gently trail
over the pink, well-punished cheeks and as the memory of her caning
came back to her, Angela actually gave a little whimper of fear. She
hadn't been very nice to Cecilia in the two years that they had been
classmates. The truth was that Angela had been secretly jealous of
Cecilia. Whilst Angela was widely acknowledged as the prettiest girl in
their class, she saw that under the bookish demeanour, the studious
Cecilia was actually even prettier than she was. People didn't
immediately notice this because Cecilia kept her large, shimmering eyes
hidden behind glasses and her lustrous dark blonde hair severely pulled
back in a simple ponytail. Quiet and often buried in a book, no one saw
the unpolished gem, except Angela, who
felt threatened. Reacting like the proverbial evil Queen
in the story of Snow White, she was often mean to Cecilia in her
attempt to remain the fairest of them all.
It was payback time of course. Cecilia was not particularly vindictive,
but seeing the haughty little bitch squirm was going to be very, very
enjoyable. And squirm she did as Cecilia's hands outraged her modesty
in uncountably many ways before wriggling into the tender little oyster
between her legs. Angela tried in vain to suppress the feelings that
threatened to overwhelm. As she fought a losing battle, she suddenly
felt a fingernail carelessly brush against the little pearl her oyster
kept so carefully hidden. The contact was light and feathery but to
Angela it seemed as though sparks leapt from Cecilia's tormenting
finger to her sensitive pleasure button. Angela's chest heaved and a
sensation unlike any she had ever experienced loomed over her. She only
knew of orgasms, and she was
in panic as she deeply suspected that what she was about to experience
could be that mythical O-word. It was unthinkable that she should
climax from a girl's touch! That would... that would make her a lesbian! And that girl was Cecilia! The ignominy! The
disgrace! Her chest heaved with effort as she took deep breaths...
oh.... oh.... she saw a light in the tunnel... Angela was almost sure
she could ride this one out safely. She could resist it! She knew she
could!
Suddenly, Cecilia's other hand dipped into Angela's knickers from
behind and a quick thrust embedded a finger deep in Angela's anal rose.
The
brown and puckered sphincter was helpless to prevent the rape of
Angela's ass as the oiled finger wormed its way past every defence.
Entering to the hilt, the finger brought with it a sudden fiery
discomfort and a stretching sensation that she discovered, to her
immense shame, pleasurable. Taken by surprise, Angela's body clamped
down on both the frontal and rear intrusions, squeezing them with all
her might. It was then that the hand in front suddenly caught her pearl
between two fingers and rubbed hard. Angela's mind exploded in white
and.....
And without warning, Cecilia's hands were gone. Angela felt the
presence behind her disappear - Cecilia was moving on to the next girl
already. Angela's vaginal and rectal walls crunched and collapsed onto
the void Cecilia's fingers left when they disappeared.
Angela remained standing there with her feet wide apart and her palms
pressing against the wall. None knew that the girl was having her first
orgasm as she stood there in line among other girls. But it was a
complete unsatisfying
climax. Her orgasm was empty. Void. Hollow. Angela
gave a tiny whimper that could barely express her intense frustration
and need. Cecilia had just dragged her screaming and kicking up the
peaks of pleasure, and then, just as she was about to arrive at the
summit, Cecilia left her, unceremoniously dumping her at the foot of
that mountain - unfulfilled, unsated, frustrated and needy.
She stood aside with the other girls who had already been
searched. Angela rubbed her feet together, squeezed her thighs and
clenched her little mound, hoping to get some measure of relief. But
none came. If anything, it only made her more and more frustrated. She
stopped after a while because she could feel her knickers getting wet.
She hoped her short little shift hung low enough to hide the damp spot
she was sure she had from the sight of the other girls. She needn't
have been embarrassed of course, there were few dry knickers in the
room by the time the prefects left.
Which they did, eventually, when they were satisfied that no stone had
been left unturned and all the hidden items had been found. Peter led
the group out of the room where they regrouped with the Head Girl,
Lisa, and the four teams who had searched the other rooms in the second
floor dorm. They returned triumphant, their first spot check a complete
success.