The Slut Academy Part 4 Graduation Suma cum Louda
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St. Searle's Academy: Graduation - Part 1 free porn video
It's Graduation Day at St. Searle's, but while the staff and pupils
party headmistress Virginia Chapford steels herself for a confrontation
that's been four years in the making.
ST. SEARLE'S ACADEMY: GRADUATION - part 1
by BobH
(c) 2017
- Prologue -
The covered wagon pulled into the yard at the rear of the school, its
wheels clattering across the rain soaked cobblestones. When it came to a
halt, the driver climbed down, tethering the horses to the hitching post
before making his way to the rear of the wagon. Several girls had rushed
out to assist him and were already opening up the rear. Unlike the
driver they weren't clad in oilskins so, with their hair and long skirts
at the mercy of the elements, they wasted no time in getting his cargo
into the school and themselves out of the rain. From her office two
storeys above, the woman watching this scene through the grime-streaked
glass of a window impossible to keep clean in this filthy, smoky city,
allowed herself a small smile. It was about time Albert Sykes brought
her someone new.
Turning from the window she glanced at the folding screen standing along
one wall then seated herself behind her impressive desk to await her
visitors. She did not have to wait long. Two minutes later there was a
knock on the door and two people entered, a third propped up between
them. He looked to be barely twenty years old.
"Look what Albert has brought us, ma'am," said Agnes Plummer, the female
of the pair, her tone indicating she wasn't impressed.
"Now, now, Aggie," the other admonished her, "Harry Burns here may not
look like much right now but he'll make as pretty a girl as any of those
learning to scrub floors under your tutelage. Shall I wake him now,
Mistress Chapford?"
"If you would, please, Bert."
Victoria Chapford eyed the newcomer with interest. Yes, this Harry Burns
might be scrawny and shabbily dressed, but neither disqualified him from
becoming a model pupil. All were recreated equal at her school.
Albert Sykes took a small bottle from his pocket, uncorked it, then
poured the contents down Harry Burns's throat. One second he was
unconscious, the next coughing and spluttering as he jerked back to
life.
"Where did you find this young man?" asked Virginia.
"Watford," replied Albert. "Further away than we might wish, but to take
any more lads locally would invite unwelcome attention. He made the
mistake of trying to pick my pocket."
"Where am I?" asked Harry, now fully conscious and looking around him
with puzzlement.
"Welcome to The St. Searle School for Wayward Girls. My name is Virginia
Chapford. I am the headmistress of this establishment."
"'Ere, you can't go treating me like this," protested Harry, trying -
and failing - to shake off the iron grip of those holding him, "you
ain't the bleedin' rozzers."
"You have no conception of what we can and cannot do," said, Virginia,
indicating the old ledger and the small stone statuette on the desk in
front of her. The latter was an ugly looking thing, a crude stone
carving of a voluptuous, very large-breasted woman.
"What...what is that?"
"Pick it up, please."
"Why?" asked Harry, looking at the statuette fearfully.
"Because you are in no position to refuse me in this matter, Master
Burns. Now do as I say."
Albert and Agnes released his arms then, reluctantly, Harry did as she
bade him. As soon as he picked up the statuette his body froze,
rendering him completely immobile. Virginia Chapford smiled. Quietly, so
that none might hear it, she spoke the word that activated the spell
locked within the statuette.
Then it happened. It was a transformation Virginia had witnessed
hundreds of times before, yet it had never become any less awe-
inspiring.
Harry's eyes, the only part of his body he was still able to move,
widened in horror as his hands started changing before them, his rough
fingers getting smoother, finer. He was shrinking too, growing shorter,
thinner, his hips broadening as his far from ample flesh rearranged
itself on his malnourished frame. Virginia watched as his lank, crudely
cut hair grew thicker, longer, and more lustrous as it flowed down over
his shoulders. She could see in his eyes, eyes filled with superstitious
dread, that he couldn't believe what was happening to him. It was a look
she had seen many times before. Harry wanted to deny it with all of his
being, but there was no hiding from this. As the final changes occurred,
as his male genitalia receded into his body and the the growth of the
small mounds that had sprouted from his chest came to a halt, the full
realisation of what had been done to him finally dawned.
"Yes," said Virginia Chapford, nodding, "magic is real, and you're being
turned into a girl. Now remain silent and keep hold of the statuette.
You'll presently be able to move again but I require you to remain still
until I tell you otherwise."
It had taken less than a minute but now Harry Burns was a teenaged girl,
one looking as stunned as so many before her had. Just like them,
Virginia knew, her heart must be racing, her mind filled with fear at
what might lay ahead for her.
"You may leave us now," she said, nodding to Albert and Agnes.
When they had gone she turned her attention back to the newly-minted
girl standing before her.
"As long as you continue to hold the statuette after your transformation
you are still subject to my will, so heed my
words, girl. Your name is now, let's see...Letitia Tweedy. Yes, that
will do nicely."
She paused to record this, dipping a quill in the inkwell on her desk
then jotting the name down in the ledger next to Letitia's original one.
"Henceforth this is the only name you will answer to. You will not do or
say anything that would allow any to determine who you once were, nor
will you indicate to anyone who has not undergone this process that such
a thing is even possible. You will do anything you are instructed to by
the staff or the school prefects except where this would cause you
actual harm. You will not leave the school without permission, you will
obey the school rules without question, and you will never tell any
outsider of what goes on here. You will conduct yourself as a young lady
and not use vulgar language. You are a child once again and so will show
adults the proper deference and respect. Teachers are to be addressed as
'Sir' or 'Miss'. You will not commit violence upon any at the school and
will employ such criminal skills as you possess only at the discretion
of the school and in its service. It is best you stay in your room for
today while you come to terms with your transformation and your new
station in life. But first, go behind the screen and change into the
clothes laid out for you there. You will find a whalebone corset, a
slip, bloomers, a blouse, a skirt, and shoes. The blouse is to be worn
with the neck buttoned all the way up, and the skirt is to be worn full
length at all times. We do not want the sight of your ankles inflaming
the passion of young men, after all. That would be most inappropriate.
The wretched clothing you're presently clad in will be burned. You can
now put down the statuette, Letitia."
The girl did as instructed, then silently made her way behind the screen
where her new attire awaited. She did not re-emerge in as timely a
fashion as Virginia was expecting her to, however.
"Make haste," she said, impatiently. "You'll have to learn to dress more
swiftly than this, young lady."
When Letitia was finally dressed, she stepped out from behind the
screen. The homeless, semi-vagabond, twenty year old thief had gone and
in his place stood a sweet-looking young girl of fourteen. Virginia
studied her thoughtfully, nodding approvingly at how the high-collared
white blouse, and long, grey skirt that were the school uniform looked
on her.
"Ah, that's much better," she said. "Know that the school exists to
transform wastrels such as you were into useful, law-abiding members of
society."
"By making us maids?" said Letitia, nervously, finally finding her
voice.
"Yes, by turning you into females - the superior sex, despite what this
male-dominated society would have us believe. You have been made younger
by several years and been greatly improved by the statuette, without
which this school could not exist."
"If it please you, miss, how was such a thing obtained?"
"In centuries past, by men who sought out such things. It's very old,
the race of people who created it long since vanished from our world. In
their time, there were vastly fewer people in the world so in order to
increase their numbers and thus their power tribes would raid rival
tribes and steal their women. Only half those in any given tribe would
be female, of course. It follows therefore that if you could increase
that number, transform captured males into females and then keep them
with child, this would advantage you greatly over those other tribes.
This is what is believed to have occurred. The shaman of the tribe that
created it called down that power and bound it to the statuette. In
those times lives were short and females became mothers as soon as they
were physically capable of carrying children, thus the logic of it
making you as young as it does. The full child-bearing years of those so
transformed are thus made available to the tribe."
There was a knock on the door.
"Come in," said Virginia Chapford, and another pretty young girl
entered. The girl stood before the desk and gave a little curtsey.
"You wanted to see me, Miss Chapford?" she said, looking nervous.
"Yes, Martha. Letitia, this is Martha Biggins; Martha, this is Letitia
Tweedy, a new arrival. Show her to her room and explain to her how the
school functions and what will be expected of her now that she is a
pupil here."
"Of course, miss."
Virginia reached into her desk and pulled out two black ribbons, which
she handed to Martha.
"Take these and also show her how to tie her hair up. That will be all."
"Yes, Miss Chapford."
When she was alone once more, Virginia stared after the girls for a
moment, let out a long sigh, then went to the side-door of her office.
In the room beyond a slender young woman lay propped up in a bed. She
appeared to be in her mid-twenties but looked pale and weak, yet there
was nothing about the room to suggest illness or decay, no miasma of
fever-sweat and suffering. It was brightly painted and flowers filled it
with the scent of spring. The woman smiled when she saw Virginia.
"Hello, my love," she said. "I take the sounds I heard to signify you
have a new pupil."
"I do, Gloria," said Virginia, sitting down on the edge of the bed, "but
that's not something you should be concerning yourself with at present.
You need to regain your strength."
"We both know it will take more than sleep and hot broth to accomplish
that outcome, however devoutly we both might wish it were otherwise. I
grow ever more feeble each time the necromancer commits one of his
grisly deeds. Did you see that the newspapers are now calling him 'Jack
the Ripper'?"
She indicated the copy of the London Evening News strewn across the
bedside table. Virginia lay her head in the other woman's lap.
"I can't lose you," she sobbed, "I just can't!"
"Oh, dear heart," said Gloria, gently stroking her lover's hair, "I fear
such a happenstance is beyond our ability to prevent. If this should
prove the case, I cannot in good conscience complain as to the length of
my life. At the time of your birth, two centuries past, I had already
lived through twice my allotted three score and ten years. I very much
pray I get past our current difficulty, but if I do not then you must
go on without me. Remember all that I have told you, all that I have
seen. The future of everything may depend on it."
- 1 -
Virginia Chapford had hosted many graduation day celebrations at St.
Searle's Academy for Young Ladies here in upstate New York, but this one
was different. For one thing it was the last there would ever be at this
site, and for another they were being held in a large marquee that had
been erected in the grounds rather than in the Great Hall. The DJ was
playing music Virginia didn't care for, but the girls seemed to enjoy
it. She smiled as she watched them dancing on the hard wooden floor that
had been laid down over the grass, looking oh so pretty in the white
blouses, tiny tartan skirts, and high heels of their school uniforms. In
a few weeks time they would be going on to colleges across the country,
their fees and living expenses paid by the school and by the now wealthy
association of former pupils who offered support to those who followed
them. Then the school would be shuttered. The fifty or so girls
celebrating their graduation were the final year to pass through the
school; there was none behind them.
"You look wistful," said Jane Kraski. Though the attractive, blonde
sports mistress was usually clad in track suit and sneakers, she was as
feminine at heart as everyone else transformed by the statuette and so
had used the occasion as an excuse to don heels, a dress, and make-up.
"Are you missing Brenda?"
'Brenda' was Brenda Templeton the school's former moral philosophy
teacher and, until recently, Virginia's lover.
"Of course I am," replied Virginia', "but I couldn't expect her to turn
down the offer of a job as the principal at another school. I'm happy
for her."
"Yeah, but St. Searle's is special. There's never been another like it.
Well, except for the school itself in its first incarnation in England.
Did you have graduation days like this back then?"
"Hardly," replied Virginia, smiling wistfully at the memory. "At the
time the best our girls could hope for was a life in domestic service or
teaching the young, so that's what we equipped them for. Now the
possibilities for young women are endless. There was always a chance one
of our girls could end up as First Lady; now she could become the
President herself."
"It doesn't hurt that they're all beautiful, either."
"No, it doesn't. One should never underestimate the power of a pretty
face. They're fortunate that beauty is one of the gifts bestowed by the
spell that transformed them."
A little later, Virginia took a small plate and helped herself to a
selection of finger food from the buffet table then wandered outside
where lots of girls were taking in the sun, smoking cigarettes, or
necking with their girlfriends. Among the latter was deputy head girl
Lucy Costello, formerly the mobster Sal Buscemi, who was locked in an
embrace with Deandra Charles, an African-American girl. The two had
linked up during their second year at the school, been a couple ever
since and, invoking year four privilege, had been sharing a double bed
since the start of the academic year. Both had also probably taken part
in last night's traditional graduation orgy in the fourth year common
room - Virginia didn't pry into such matters.
Lucy had been a slow-developer at first, but she had blossomed both
physically and sexually since then. She was now as curvacious as any
other girl in the school and, based on reports from her monthly sessions
with the school nurse, as boy-crazy too. When she and Deandra went their
separate ways at the end of the summer, Virginia was confident that both
would soon find boyfriends.
When their embrace ended, they saw that Virginia was watching them,
grinned, then walked over to her, holding hands.
"You girls looked as if you were enjoying yourselves."
"We were," said Deandra, smiling at Lucy, "thank you, miss."
"You can call me Virginia now, Deandra. You've both graduated after all.
And how about you Lucy? Are you enjoying the Graduation Day
celebration?"
"Very much, yes," said Lucy, lighting a cigarette. "I only wish the
Barbie twins were here to share it with us, particularly last night."
"Yes, well, you can't really blame Jessica and Jennifer for leaving us
in the middle of their third year to become top fashion models when they
were scouted by a leading agency. You see their faces everywhere now, so
they must be making a fortune."
Virginia had been surprised when Senator Abigail Carson had agreed to
let her adoptive daughters - formerly her husband and her son - leave
St. Searle's early to pursue such a career, but then it was not as if
either actually needed to graduate then go on to college and obtain a
degree. Not only were the family loaded, but Jessica had formerly run
the family business when she was Matthew Carson and so could assume the
reins again whenever they decided the time was right, college degree or
no college degree.
"It's a slow dance," said Deandra suddenly, as the music coming from the
marquee changed. "C'mon, Luce, we can't miss this one."
She led her girlfriend over to the marquee, their high heels clicking on
the boarding that had been laid between the tent and the driveway they
had been standing on in order to prevent those selfsame heels from
sinking into the lawn. Girls were allowed to wear heels as part of their
school uniforms in year four but they weren't mandatory, yet there
wasn't a single girl here who wasn't wearing them. Virginia reflected
ruefully that by this point in their development they were all full-on
femmes. The more feminine and sexy something was the more they embraced
it. They would have loudly protested any attempt to prevent them wearing
heels. Or make-up, come to that.
A short distance away, head girl Meghan Delaney was chatting with self-
defence instructor, weapons master and head of school security John
'Flash' Thompson and his fiancee, Charlotte Kent. A former pupil at the
school, Charlotte had graduated two years earlier then immediately moved
in with John in his apartment above the school's main garage. Tall,
solidly built and now just turned thirty, John was the only person at
the school born male who was still male, just as Virginia was the only
female actually born to that gender.
John and Charlotte made a formidable pair and were very loyal to her, a
loyalty Virginia was going to have need of in the coming days.
Then there was Meghan Delaney.
The redhead had seemed friendly, open, and eager to please at first, but
that had all slowly changed. The first sign of this came when she
managed to get herself assigned a single room with no roommate,
something almost unheard of. But then Meaghan was very good at getting
people to do what she wanted. They might not know why they were doing
so, but they always went along with her. If they thought about it at all
they probably imagined this was all down to charisma, that quality some
people have that enables them to get others to follow them. Virginia
knew there was more to it than this, and that the moment she had been
preparing for for more than three years was almost upon them.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said, going over to the trio, "but could
you come with me, please, Meaghan?"
"Is something wrong, Virginia?" she asked, smooth brow furrowing.
"No, there's just one last thing I need you to do as the school's head
girl."
"OK," said Meaghan, shrugging. "Lead on."
And so they headed into the school building, a building that would have
had the graduation party going on inside at that very moment had
Virginia not hired a marquee in order to hold it outside this year. She
had done so as a precaution, because she wasn't at all sure that either
she or the building would survive the confrontation that was about to
happen.
***************************
To be continued
***************************
Clover
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