Melody Smith's Schooldays free porn video

Melody Smith's Schooldays

by Eve Adorer

Chapter 15 – My Vacation Vocation

Supremely aroused as I had become holding the divine Deneel in a tender embraceas the ultimate phase of Maiden Mead making had been given over to me,a long tepid shower was needed to lower the summit of my ardour and saveme from the evil compulsion to touch myself.

My body came down from its peak of heat but very slowly. My mind continuedlost in the maze of lust for the remainder of the sleepless night through whichI turned and tossed abed, fighting to keep my pretty fingers from mischief,and unable therefore to douse my fire, my red-hot lava flowing as I closedmy eyes and envisioned Deneel's visage endlessly over and over again. For daysafterwards I longed to see Deneel once more. I had never seen anything in allmy sixteen tender years as wonderful as that twenty-year old nubile negress,so miraculously sculpted by nature and nurture, by heaven's beneficence andballet's benevolence. If that was what ballet training did for girl, then allgirls should be ballet dancers by law!

I had even almost forgotten the letter: the letter the head girl held: theletter from my father: the letter from Italy. Such was my passion for the plus-perfectpulchritudinous Deneel; all other matters in my life were relegated by theempty desert in my desire driven mind.

I was a young girl experiencing the powerful drive of compelling sexual desire.My body and mind were of single focus. My body was womanly ripe: my mind wasstill a young girl's.

Sexually, I was no longer merely budding. Sexually, I was mature. Sexually,I was no longer burgeoning. Sexually, I was in full young flower. My infoldinglove petals kissed virgin tightly, hiding my deep hidden pistils. Subliminally,I was probably still driven then, by a longing for a pistol to pump and pourpollen in my purse and, despoiling my purity, propagate in me to populate fromme. But, even then, I had no fore-conscious desire for penis. At surface, naturecompelled and body mind and soul were as one in obedience of the compulsion,and my compulsion was girl-girl.

I longed for love. I longed for sex. I longed for girl. They were all threeone and the same in a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl's body and mind. I was drivengirl. Nature had control of my head and heartstrings. I would dangle and dancea puppet at nature's command. Nature would drag me along willingly or unwillinglyto fulfil my sexual needs. My heart was in my slit. My heart was in my slit,and my slit willing and wanton and willing me to be wanton. I was waiting wantingwilling wanton girl.

I felt no guilt that my longing was girl for girl. For me the love of girlfor girl was heaven's greatest gift. I was innocent and ignorant of any alternative.Of course I knew that I had been begat by boy and girl combining in love labour'slust. My ignorance and innocence was my wholly holy virginity in the boy girlrealm: a lesser world, a nether world; a world I had no desire, even then,ever to visit. Having discovered heaven's locus, why would I look for lesserlove in a lower world? My heart was in my slit. I wanted girl in my heart:I wanted girl in my slit.

I feared that neither mummy nor daddy would understand. It is odd that Ifelt no guilt but could feel concern that my parents should not know my lovewas only for the love of lovely girl. My thinking here was not that I was inthe wrong and would be discovered; it was that they were in the wrong and thatI did not want to hurt them by making them show they were so very wrong aboutsomething so exceptionally extremely wonderful.

It was the last week of term before the three-week break for Easter. It wasfive days after my experience at the Wicked Wench, where I had witnessed themaking of Maiden Mead. The head girl had finally given me daddy's letter fromItaly. It was written in long loving endearment to say how sorry he and mummywere that they would be unable to see me that upcoming Easter vacation, becauseof the death of my great-uncle exiled in Italy and the need to attend mummy'smuch loved uncle's funeral.

Daddy was sure; he said in his letter, that I would be looked after at theacademy by the headmistress, with whom I was to stay that Easter. He addedthat the headmistress had given her word that Benji, my adorable adored Alsatian,would be looked after in her home too, so that I could see him. The headmistress'only condition was that Benji be returned to my parents after the three-weekbreak. Benji, daddy assured me, was even now (at the time he wrote) in kennels,and by arrangement, would arrive with the headmistress on one of the firstfew days of my vacation.

……………….

On the last day of term, by popular request of the other girls in the school,I was wearing another version of the lampshade dress I had worn at the WickedWench. This one was canary yellow, and I wore canary yellow stockings, suspenders,and hugely filled a cupless strip of canary yellow silk over my breasts, knottedtightly behind my back to prevent my abundance overspilling. Seven-inch brightyellow stiletto heels gloried my gorgeous legs, and a huge yellow rose wason my left leg's stocking-top garter. My long blonde hair had been twin plaitedand then rolled into two tight glowing harvested-corn circled-coils at theside of my head. I daringly wore canary yellow eye shadow and even canary yellowlipstick.

I was orgasmically compelling, and my modesty at my overwhelming lovelinessa central essential component: the catalyst making me overwhelmingly orgasmicallyadorable.

Girls laughed in loving love with and of me as they pointed to my prettymouth-lips lipsticked livid yellow. It was daring. It was sexy. It was a younggirl's privilege taken, to challenge convention and allure with lurid lipsthe more kissable for their startling colour, so naturally unnatural: it beingnatural for a young girl to go against nature and paint her lips so unnaturala colour.

On my seven-inch heels, toes pointed to earth's core rising me on legs leadingto the lips gating and guarding heaven between their dreamy long, leanly long,creamy-complexioned girl curved miles, I stood, sex on luscious legs, longedfor, and longing for sex. Girls' head-turning in my mystery and my radiantdesirability, availability and unavailability, I was listening to the headteacher, Miss Pringle, at the full school assembly with which every day atthe St Catherine's Academy for Girls started.

"Now girls, those of you living locally and who have been with us for sometime, will know that we look to you to have the school pets in your lovingand caring homes for the three-weeks break so close upon us. The school willbe fully closed down, so, there will be nobody in the school to feed and waterthem. You must have parental permission to take one of them home for the breakof course. Not all of us wish to find a laboratory rat in our homes!" Nobodylaughed at this intended joke, not realising that the limp way in which theheadmistress' voice had been raised at the end of the announcement, signalledthat it had been one; that it was intended to be a joke.

To hide her embarrassment at her failed attempt at humour, the headmistressturned to a brown pretty hand held high in the congregation.

"Yes, you, Nulinda", she pointed to a gorgeous Asian-Indian girl, a fifteen-year-oldwith luxurious straight black hair down to the bottom of her bottom, and framinga face almost as lovely in repose as in smile, with features of delightfulcomplexion including eyes of joyous sparkling brown, that she turned momentarily,brown hue and eyes both, my way to indicate whom she was talking about.

"Yes, you, Nulinda", the headmistress pointed to this girl who had her handraised, to raise that she wanted to raise a question.

"Please miss", Nulinda's delightful white-toothed smile widened as she pluckedup her courage with the whole school, all five hundred girls, listening intentlyto her sweet voice, "Please miss, all the girls say Melody Smith is a pet,so may I take Melody home for the hols?"

Even the headmistress had to laugh along with all the school at this verycheeky little girl's joke. Then all eyes turned to me, but in the midst ofmy blush I only saw Nulinda, and knew from her look, which was now so sensuouslyserious, that she wanted me. And oh how at that moment I wanted her beauty,her innocent delight: this, the girl who was the school comedienne with childishcheek and cheeky wit to match her winsome worth.

"You will go a long way in life Nulinda!" the headmistress smiled, "But nota long way with Melody during this vacation I'm afraid. As Melody's parentsare unavoidably away abroad, Melody will be staying with me this Easter".

A long sympathy-and-disappointment-conveying comic chorus, "Ahhhh!" followedby girlish laughter, teased Nulinda as it echoed mock pity from the other girlsat the head having to "disappoint" the Asian angel, who giggled in embarrassedhot blushing pleasure at having her childish joke so enjoyed by the whole school.

"Report to my office at the end of the day Melody" the headmistress instructed,as if she had only just recalled that it had been arranged I stay the vacationthrough with her.

I long lovely legilly curtsied my acknowledgement of Miss Pringle's orders.

Arrangements for the real school pets, several rats, a dozen mice, and threerabbits, were made, and we dispersed to our classes. As I wiggled steeple-leggedin my seven-inch stilettos on my way to classes, I could not help but notice,because it was so blatant, that Nulinda lingered to be near me.

"May I say you are so very pretty miss?" she asked shyly.

"Of course you may", I blushed, smiling at her loving countenance, watchingher spellbinding brown eyes slowly sip the delights of my body from toes totop, and settle on the green shining lovely lightening flash in my irises,as her compliment caused my slit to wet and be whetted with wanting.

"I…..I…….I love you miss", Nulinda sighed with her blackhair suddenly shyly curtaining her lowered loving lovely face.

I had no real idea how to answer this stunning sudden surprise. This wassurely a very young girl who did not know what she was talking about. But howmuch more did I know, not even two years her senior?

"I am deeply honoured Nulinda. You are a very pretty girl." I answered, myvirgin slit now shining as my honey seeped.

"May I kiss you miss?" Nulinda's eyes begged as compellingly as her lips.

"Not without a prefect's written permission", I countered with what was intendedas a kind and gentle passion cooling laugh in my intonation.

But this girl was not going to take "no" for an answer, and she gently tookmy dainty hand and lured me unwillingly willingly into the nearby and, fortunatelyand unfortunately unoccupied lavatories. There she instantly knelt on the groundand kissed my yellow stockinged steepled right foot in its seven-inch stretchedheeled high, as I closed my eyes in wanting to say "yes" and having to say "no" confusion.

And then Nulinda gazed up in rapture at my completely nude shaven harbourhaven. And I noed my willing yes as the fifteen-year old Asian angel now puther delightful face so close to my honeypot, fully exposed as it was underthe open bell hem of my lampshade skirt, that I could feel her breath on mysensitive nude lips. A split of a split second later her mouth was on my slitand her tongue beginning to part the guardian gates of heaven, when I gentlycaught hold of her shoulders….

….But she was strong for one so young and persistent and insistent,and the heat of her sweet breath condensing on my heaven-hiding-lips made mesecrete my secret honey and my honey to dribble, as I "no, no, no, no, noedmy aroused "yes, yes, yes, yes, yeses" my head "no, noing" side to side asmy sensated mind nodded assent to this girl's ascent into my nirvana nerve-centre.

Nulinda was now between my wide-parted welcoming legs, and I listened toher eager slurps as she sucked my honey and it glistened on her lips to matchthe sheen in the gusset of her pure white tight-white knickers as she was approachinga cum at her pleasure in tasting my nectar, the essence of me: my essence:my supreme girlness.

Somehow I must, and did distressingly and hurtfully, find the strength toease her off me…

….."No my angel, no, please no!! I'm so sorry Nulinda but it mustbe no. Please love me still, please adore me!"

Caught off-balance, Nulinda tumbled back off her haunches and flashed thevery wet girl-juice-soaked school-issue knickers that sucking my essence hadcaused, before she scrambled to her feet.

"You fucking cow!" she cursed me, with her lips still moist with me, in herdeep hurt frustration and passion propelled anger.

"Oh no!" I begged, "Please don't blame me Nulinda. I have to obey……..Iam the School Slag… I have to obey the School Slag rules!"

But she stormed out, tears running down her adorable face, as my arms reachedout to try and take and comfort her, too late, far too late, far far too late ………

…………….

For the rest of that day I tried to get near Nulinda, who, joy of joys finallycame over to me and said a simple, "Sorry miss". It brought tears of joy tomy eyes to know that I was still loved and adored, wanted and now forgivenby this beauty among beauties, despite the denial of her fulfilment from sippingnectar between my petals.

And then I understood in the instant why I was forgiven, as Nulinda, smilingradiantly, showing me a certificate.

For her as well as for me, I felt such joy that this Asian-Indian ingénuenow had signed licence obliging me to let her have me: signed indeed by Josephine,the prefect who loved me as I her.

The little Asian treasure looked at me with such pleasure in her flashingbrown eyes, as I bent my willing head straight legged in my wide hide-nothingstiff hemmed canary yellow lampshade skirt to hear Nulinda whisper what shewanted of me, where, and when, as my passion petals flashed hot-moist.

That I should blush the deepest of deep crimson as she unashamedly told me,showed how deeply this brilliantly-bright-button of girlish silly jokes andloving loveable desire to be loved and desired was capable of thinking.

"Yes of course" I answered, my slit wet and whetted and keened once moreas my mind registered her request.

And so later that day I looked distantly distinctly over at Nulinda in thesports ground, as we had our afternoon break from lessons, and watched herin that distance telling her pretty, young, pretty sceptical friends something,as she showed them a transparent plastic bottle, that clearly aroused theirenvy. She several times faced my way so that they looked over disbelievingdespite her repeated insistent assurance she was telling the truth.

Then she again showed them the bottle with its clear golden-yellow contents,before hugging it to her and kissing it with the sweet lips that had tastedmy honey that morning. For she was telling her disbelieving friends, that thisshe showed them, time and time, over and over again, was a bottle of my wine.She was boasting to her fifteen-year-old peers that she had a bottle of MelodySmith's golden-girl-pee, and was going to savour slow sips of its glory everynight of the three-week holiday, sharing it with absolutely nobody!

And I sighed my disappointment that Nulinda's highest pleasure had been mygolden treasure and not something that would result in a cum for her, or forme, or for me from her for her. But I also sighed my pleasure that a sip ofmy golden treasure was an unsurpassable pleasure for an angel such as she.

I wiggle-walked past this crowd of Nulinda and her friends, blushing as theywhistled and cheered at my seven-inch high-heeled girl-legged glory gracingby on open display under my belled-out bright yellow stiff-hemmed lampshadeskirt, displaying all my legs, my bummy, and my naughty nude naughty to theworld and its life, on my way to report to the headmistress, as I must sinceI was to stay with her for the three-week Easter holiday to begin the nextday.

……………….

I knocked nervously quietly on the headmistress' door. Miss Pringle, in factDoctor Pringle, for that was her real name, and not "Old Prickle" or "the PricklyDoc" as we girls called her behind her back, was a very frightening lady. "OldPrickle" was, in fact, no more than thirty.

A very bright girl, she had flown through university with a bachelor double-firstfrom ****** England followed by time at ****** in the USA. That she had followedin turn with an outstandingly brilliant and seminal doctoral thesis titled: "TheInsistent Prevalent Presence of Sapphic Obsession Within Female Dyads in Distaff-SidedUnisexual Institutions and Institutionalised Environments - Its Provenance,History, Physiology, Psychological Foundation, Persistent Occurrence, Subversion,Recurrence Prevention, and Curative Obliteration", a book that marked her asthe unparalleled sociology student of the century at ****** England, to whichshe had transferred to complete her tertiary education on her return from ******,just six summers since.

Miss Pringle had then breezed through teacher training, and her appointmentas head of St Catherine's Academy for Girls, recognised internationally asthe crème de la crème of girls' schools, was a simple formality.

She was by far the youngest woman ever appointed to the headship of St Catherine's.She was also by far the prettiest. Many a young girl at St Caths had a secretcrush on her. Their calling her "Old Prickle" and "the Prickly Doc" was oftenjust a disguise for the emotion that stirred in girlish hearts when this attractivebut stern lady glided by.

Miss Pringle, "Amelia" to her friends, had, unfortunately, apparently lefther soul in one of the books she had steeped herself in at university. Sheseemed to be the frustrated spinster epitomised. Her feminine curves were alwayscompletely hidden in a black dress that covered her neck to toes. Her studyinghad hurt her eyes, and her choice to use pince nez that dangled from a black-silkchoker around her slender neck, when they were not needing to be clipped halfwaydown her nose for reading, made her seem a grandmother in apparent age to weyoung girls.

There was talk, there is always talk among schoolgirls, that Miss Pringlehad been unlucky in love, and was taking it out on her pupils.

If only she would smile, her face would have been so pretty. If only shewould be more advised about her dress, and wear her hair down, instead of alwaysprimly properly tied in a tight bun at the back of her head, she would in facthave looked lovely. Miss Pringle's hair was lusciously dark auburn and of greatbeauty, but the severity it gave her young face with its being so sharply drawnback, did her appearance no justice.

She had green eyes, Miss Pringle. Her long-sightedness made them look mistyand dreamy. Talking to you, she always seemed to be looking through you, asif she could see an x-ray of your real thinking. She made you feel shallowby the way she looked past you, or seemed to pierce your very soul.

Her skin was gorgeous. Like all redheads, Miss Pringle was very pale. Insummer her face would display tiny freckles noticeable across her foreheadand nose, despite her attempts to hide their delightfulness under pancake makeupof some kind.

She had always been kind to me. I thought her misunderstood and would haveargued in her defence had I not been the chosen School Slag, with it thus notbeing my place to argue or even join in debates in the prefecture where I washoused.

Okay, so Miss Pringle had once whipped me very hard on my bare split. ButI had been very naughty, or at least there were credible witnesses to testifythat I had been extremely naughty, and so I could forgive her the pain andhumiliation I had suffered in the ritualised beating she had made me endure,even though it had been in truth completely unjustified.

"Come", Miss Pringle's voice called when, after getting no audible responsefrom my first attempt, I had dared to knock on her door a second time.

"Ah, Melody!" Miss Pringle greeted me with this, as her eyes looked my delectablebody over head to tiptoed toe in my seven-inch high spike heels.

"You are such a pretty girl Melody. God spared nothing when she made you".

I flushed fully floridly at this unexpected compliment from a woman I thoughthad never ever regarded me as a girl as opposed to solely seeing me, as yetanother student.

"Thank you Miss Pringle" I shyly sighed, as I dutifully curtsied.

"We in the tutorial staff are not really allowed pupils in our homes Melody",Miss Pringle announced from behind the huge desk at which she sat and beforewhich I stood long-legged, pretty hands behind my back.

"We are not, properly speaking, allowed pupils in our homes, but I have madean undertaking to your parents and those of another pupil for the three weeksof this tedious vacation now upon us", she mused as if she had rehearsed theline she was taking.

"We are not allowed pupils, but we always arrange for the school pets tobe housed. So, with you my angel, we will have to indulge a little subterfuge".She smiled as she announced this as if she had been looking forward to thefulfilment of a plan that she had perhaps mulled over for weeks.

"You will strip yourself completely naked Melody, but leave those delightfulcoils of your wonderful hair at the side of your head, so they won't get inthe way whilst you are on your little holiday from being a schoolgirl as such."

"Miss?" I queried.

"Do as you are told Melody and do it now if you know what is good for you!"

Miss Pringle's voice was measured and calm. She was used to having her ownway with all the staff, let alone the pupils, and I was no challenge at allto her complete autocracy.

With nervous fingers I unclasped the securing buckle that held my brightyellow stiff bell-skirt to my hips, and dropped it to the floor. Having sweetsexy leggilly stepped out of the bell, I could now reach my seven-inch stilettosand ease my aching feet from them. To un-knot the yellow silk band that containedmy huge breasts was a little difficult, so I abandoned the attempt temporarilywhilst I rolled my unhitched canary yellow stockings down my miles of lusciousleg.

I was surprised at how intently Miss Pringle watched me as I stripped beforeher, feeling terribly self-conscious.

"You will also remove that ridiculous yellow lipstick and eye-shadow" sheinstructed.

With a nervous, "Yes Miss" and swift beautiful bare legged curtsey, I confirmedmy intended full compliance.

I thanked her as she finally helped me undo the bow at my back that the silkcloth covering my breasts was tied in, and showed me to a side-room, mirror,cold-cream, and tissues with which I could see and operate to remove the makeupfrom my pretty face.

Miss Pringle disappeared into her office as I smeared my lovely cheeks withcold-cream, the cool feel of which on my schoolgirl-soft complexion I had alwaysadored.

As I emerged from her side bathroom, naked as nature apart from my hair inripe-gold-corn-coils, I spotted gloves on her desk. Gloves in April I thought!Gloves in April: I ask you!! What an old fuddy-duddy "Old Miss Prickle Pringle" was!!!

But the gloves were not for her; they were for me.

"Put on the gloves, but first cover your knees with these" Miss Pringle commanded,as she handed me two of what were clearly knee-pads, similar to those I hadworn when roller-blading in my even younger days.

I was as good as obedience, and strapped the black rubber pads over my knees,before donning the black rubber gloves, mittens without even a separate thumbin fact, with thick padding where my palms were within them.

I then looked at Miss Pringle, obedience personified, curiosity controlled.

"Kneel, my angel" she coaxed, and I obeyed yet again, getting down so thatmy padded knees were on the floor and my long pretty toes bent forward to holdme squatting.

In a moment Miss Pringle was down beside me. To my joy she ran an enquiringhand over the vast expansive of the massive boldness that my right thigh formedas my legs were folded.

I gasped open mouthed in sudden sweet surrender as she stroked my magicallymajestic gigantically strong bare right thigh inquisitively gently, and myhoney flowed in my naughty as I sighed loudly to tell her that I loved hertouch. And, had she cared to look at my moist mouthed innocent pleading eyes,she would have known that, being the supremely super-sensitive all-over head-to-toeerogenous zone I was, I was showing my desire fire aflame from her tender touchon my erotic body, my gasping moist mouth matching my gaping moist south.

"Magnificent!!", Miss Pringle crooned, "Totally magnificent: truly wonderful.Such latent power, such orgasmic grace, such enormous contained restrainedtitanic beauty!!"

At my side, she had dropped two leather straps with buckles, one of whichshe took up now and passed around my folded right leg, so that it went overmy ankle and came up between my thighs. This she buckled off tightly, so thatmy leg was bound folded massive-thighed double.

A repeat of this process with my left leg, left me tied with both superbstorm-strong-thighed legs tied inescapably tight-folded double.

Finally, she came up behind me, and only by feel was I made aware that shewas passing around my long slim neck, a collar: a dog collar: a studded dog'scollar, for this is what I was to become: a human dog: a human bitch.

A strange feeling in my naughty reflected the equally strange feeling inmy girlmind as I squatted obedience bound and bound to obey.

Miss Pringle repeated her earlier words: "We are not normally allowed pupilsin our homes, but we always arrange for the school pets to be housed….".

So, this humiliating fate was to be mine.

But why did I not protest? Why did my naughty moisten when Miss Pringle fittedmy collar? Why did this unnaturalness feel so natural to me, for me to endure?Why did my mind welcome what my mind knew to be cruel and obscene? I was agirl in heaven's name! I was a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl sent by her parentsin trust that she would be looked after in these, the most sensitive yearsof her burgeoning womanhood. And here I was, trust replaced by trusses, tiedlike a dog, bound like an animal, having my schoolgirl innocence savaged, havingmy schoolgirl's body abused and used, being mentally raped and deflowered bybondage to please the perverted lust of this woman, my headmistress, the girlin charge of my college, the girl charged with my well-being and honoured withthe duty of care for my young mind and body.

I lowered my lovely eyes and blushed knowing that my naughty split was dribblingmy honey as Miss Pringle held my dog leash ready to fix to my collar.

"Ah there you are at last", her voice threw over my head as I knelt unableto see and not daring to turn to look at whom she was addressing her greeting.

"Take this bitch to my car. I will join you there when I've finished my paperwork.

Miss Pringle handed over the leash, and someone behind me fitted it to mycollar and tugged so that I rose on four limbs: mittened "forepaws" and paddedknees forming my doggy bitch forelegs, rear legs, and four legs.

And as I rose thus, obedient as always, I was turned and could look at mymistress of the moment, the girl in tiptoed heelless rigid-soled ballet shoessteepling her to wondrous magnificence of girl-leg-glory who had hold of meby the doggy lead I would be forced to crawl along by.

And I looked at her calves. I looked at the calves of my mistress. I ogledthe calves of my mistress as they were at my humble head height as I kneltin preliminary to being made to crawl. I looked at the carved curved calvesof my mistress at her tight soft-skinned curved trained calves, ebony and beautifulbeyond the human eye to endure without arousal of humility longing and lust,as Deneel tugged once more on my leash and I began to wiggle crawl, the white-girlhuman bitch I had been made into obeying completely her beyond-beautiful blackmistress.

……………….

Deneel, the heaven's heaven black ballet dancer and now my mistress walkingthe doggy that was I, was gentleness and patience itself, as she led me slowlyalong giving me time to learn to crawl in the bondage in which I would be boundfor the three weeks of the Easter vacation from school proper.

I crawled at the end of my leash down corridors with which I had become sofamiliar, past cleaning staff who seemed to think nothing of the sight of thetwo visions of exquisite loveliness, the ebony mistress as far to the one endof nature's wonderful colour spectrum, as the white girl she dragged alongwas at the other.

I crawled at the end of my leash down familiar corridors, my head held sothat I gazed upon the strong unstockinged ballet-trained girlmuscular calvesof the divine Deneel, whose model's walk in her tip-top-of-tiptoe-tiptoeingshoes always saw her place one foot precisely before the other so that herbody swung swivelled wiggled and swayed with all the fabulous femininity offinest female feline.

This wonderful girl prowled like an alley-cat. Like a ballet-cat, she impelledthe eye to watch and savour the walk of a dream on legs; legs that were dreamswithin the dream. Dark-black-cream-smooth supreme-smooth completely unblemishedflesh shone with her glorious ballet-trained fitness, and gloried her scintilla-of-a-scintilla-of-a-surplus-milligram-freepoundage and god-given perfection of hourglass shape. She was the girl thatno girl could fail to want and want to be wanted by. She was a goddess of goddessesin super-human shape. She was impossible to believe the existence of, suchwas the perfection of her absolutely pure and totally unadulterated girlness.

And I had kissed her. I had kissed her heavenly mouth. I had kissed her goddessof goddesses' lips…..

…..But this was no time to reminisce, for whose were the lovely slimbrown legs, also tiptoed in heelless pirouette shoes slinking so lightly andsexily toward us: toward the divine Deneel and toward me as I crawled on allfours?

Oh heaven I recognised that gorgeous girly giggle: that innocent charminglaugh, but I had not before fully seen the slim and very pretty legs of Nulinda.For indeed it was she: Nulinda, the fifteen-year-old Asian-Indian angel wasslinking toward my tethered body. I glanced up to glimpse the raven-black ofthis sweet girl's pubic hair, for she was, but for her heelless ballet-shoes,as naked as heaven intended, as was the goddess Deneel.

"You take her to the car, and I'll remind the head that term is over, evenfor her", Deneel's contralto voice way above my head ordered the eager andwilling Nulinda.

Tumbling raven-coal-colour curls were replaced by straight raven locks, asNulinda took my leash and led me crawling in obedience to her, to where I mustnegotiate the cold marble steps down from the grand entrance to the school,cross concrete blinding in the reflected heat of the beating sun, and arriveand be ordered, "Sit", as indeed I did in the instant in huge thunder thighedsquat, at the rear door of a vehicle.

"Good gwirl", coaxed Nulinda in a voice that always contained the verge ofa magically attractive girly giggle barely restrained.

"Good gwirl", she coaxed and my eyes could not help but run the length ofher lovely slim naked legs.

"Good gwirl", coaxed Nulinda, talking to me precisely as if I were a dumband stupid animal.

"Good gwirl", she whispered as if I were her pet.

"Good gwirl", Nulinda coaxed me, and I blushed as her humiliation of me creamedmy naughty even more as I looked up at her wickedly pretty, brown, nude, tightlittle bottom.

As she bent to arrange something on the back seat of the car she had openedthe rear door of, Nulinda's sixth sense told her I was looking at her beautifulbare brown buttocks, her smackybumps, and the lips of her very tight naughty,and enjoying what I saw.

Immediately she had done her business in the vehicle, which she seemed topurposely slow down with, to tease and entice my feasting eyes some more, sheturned to me and, still with my dog's leash in her hand, hauled me up to my "four" legsgiving me a quizzical, "I know what you were looking at" look, and then wentbehind me, bent over me, and smacked me twice, very hard, on my bare rightbummy flank.

SLAP!! "Nwaughty gwirl!" ………SLAP!! "Wewy nwaughty gwirl!"

Her smacks hurt and I yelped both times.

Then, stroking my head as her scented body, so young lithe and desirable,squatted at my side: and my honey trickled from my naughty, Nulinda whispered: "Melodyhas got to be a good wickle dwoggy, and mustn't be a nwaughty dwoggy, lookingat my pwitty wickle bwummy like that".

I gasped as I creamed with humiliation as this fifteen-year-old chastisedme with the cruel taunt of her deliberately childish language….

"I know I've gwot a wery pwitty wickle bwummy, but Melody has no wite towook at my wery pwitty wickle bwummy. Melody is going to be a gwood wickledwoggy and won't look at pwitty bwummies even pwitty wickle bwummies like mine."

I flushed from hair roots to the base of my neck at this humbling humiliationand degradation. This young girl knew how to mistress me. I sighed as I hungmy head in absolute shame that her command over me had reduced me to animal,as my honey dribbled down the insides of my enormous folded-leg formed thighs:secretion seeping from my doggy degradation.

"Cwum on pwitty dwoggy. Cwum on", I was lead to the open rear door of theheadmistresses' car and was being instructed to get into it, high above mytight-tied-folded legs.

After much struggle I managed it to the tune of Nulinda's melodic…

"Dwers a cwever wickle dwoggy!"

Blushing deep pink with knowing Nulinda knew what my helpless hopeless bondagecapped by her humiliation was doing to me, I momentarily glanced up at thisfifteen-year-olds perfect pert lollipops: her superlatively-firm conical breasts,protruding twin mini-brown-mounts-Fuji capped with huge strawberry-pink nipples.

"Nwaughty gwirl! Nwaughty nwaughty gwirl!!" Nulinda's pretty forefinger beatthe air side-to-side in warning for my daring to look at her naked beauty onceagain, and forewarned of another slap on my bummy if I did not behave, I loweredmy head shamed humbled and disgraced.

I hung my head in shame at my desire for Nulinda's beautiful young body,and my consequent sexual arousal and my further arousal at being shamed formy natural desire, and at my being shamed by my arousal from my shame at myarousal. And my hurt at being denied to look upon her heavenly face and figurearoused me like an animal. And so it was that not only by my physical bondagebut by the mental bondage they, Nulinda so far at least, were taunting me with,I was being made the dog, the bitch I was bound as, and thus bound to become.

I crouched on the floor at the rear of Miss Pringle's car as she got in todrive us to her home. There I squatted with four of the most beautiful legsI had ever beheld in my young life, exquisite calves arched supremely by tiptoe-shodfeet pointed toward the centre of the universe, legs rising to heaven as Deneeland Nulinda sat either side of my cowering body, and I dare not look: I darenot look: I could not look at heaven on earth.

"Don't forget" said Miss Pringle, turning whilst sitting in the driving seat,before she started the car. "Don't forget the deal was that you could havethe doggy to play with over the holiday, provide you looked after her entirely,including keeping her groomed and well exercised."

"Yes, Miss Pringle", my two young tormentors affirmed in near chorus.

"You must also teach her discipline", Miss Pringle reminded Deneel and Nulinda, "Thereis nothing in the world of pet animals as awful as an ill trained doggy. Youmust teach her to obey. She must learn to obey in an instant without the slightestsign of demur."

"I'm afraid we may have to use the dog whip on her Miss Pringle", Nulinda'smischievous giggly voice sounded out soprano clear.

"If it is necessary it is necessary" Miss Pringle responded.

……………..

"May I use the bathroom please?" I begged as we lurched along, the car jerkingwith Miss Pringle's appalling driving.

There was silence.

"May I use the bathroom please?" I pleaded once more.

"Did you hear a voice?" Nulinda enquired with a leering mocking cruelty inher tone.

"Once we have arrived, you'd better take the doggy for a walk. She may notbe house trained, and I don't want any little accidents on my carpets, thankyou very much!" Miss Pringle instructed.

"Please!" I begged, "I need to go now!"

A heavy sigh was heaved by the three beautifully cruel women in near unison,but the car drove on, my plea to be allowed to relieve myself being utterlyignored.

The desperation I felt about the urge to urinate was psychological ratherthan from a reasoned assessment of the need. My mind was crying out internallythat I must, but must, be allowed to pee, because I was not able to do whatI needed to do in the circumstance I was in, and because I had no idea of whenI would be able so to do. But, in fact, if my circumstances and situation hadbeen such that I had been in a position to urinate without let or hindranceI would probably not have been feeling any urge to do so at all.

Whether from real need or from need prompted by the impossibility, the urgeto urinate had taken my mind over. We motored on, and every second seemed likean hour as I forced myself to retain restrain and refrain. I had no idea howfar we had gone on our journey, let alone how much further we had still togo.

All I knew was the feeling that I could not hold myself much longer and thatnature would force me to eject that which nurture had taught me I should retainand refrain from spilling until in an appropriate place in the time and spacecontinuum.

I was aware from an "accident" I had had in my knickers in my early schooldays, of the danger of my letting myself go on the verge of arrival at a placewhere I could relieve myself: the sudden release from relief at being in-sight,rather than retention for the spilt seconds needed for the release to be on-site.

Every child does such a thing once. Every adult recalls the event and isthus reminded of the risk that the release of Ladysmith might have precededher relief. The danger of the little dribble that turns to a torrent, and thearrival at the point target already emptied is a desperately shaming and lessonteaching event for a girl.

I was sure I was going to release my wine, and equally sure that it was worthlessmy appealing to be allowed to do so where it would be appropriate for me todo so. My previous requests of the right to release my natural fluid had beencompletely ignored. I would only be tormenting myself for my captors' continuedevident pleasure at denying me, were I to plead again.

Perspiration was diamonding my gently furrowed brow as I strained to refrainand not release even the teensiest trickle knowing it would only be the preludeto the torrent, when the car we were in, wherein I crouched on all fours, boundlike a hound at the rear, pulled over to the side in a Scottish country lane.

Although in stress at my restraint, I dared to glance at Deneel's beautifulebony calves as they tensioned from her pressing her toes hard to ground, asshe lifted her heavenly naked body from the seat, to exit the rear of the vehicleand leave open the door. And I could not help my eyes taking in her glory,as she reached over, all girl scent, and complex curvaceous contours fit andlithe, to attach my lead to my collar and tug, so that I must crawl out ofthe car.

What I wished to do, I wished to do in privacy and, despite the burning pressurethat had built up inside my naughty, I waited for them to unbind me, so thatI might at least hide over in the bushes. As it was their wish, and obviouslyan extension of my duties as the School Slag, I would then submit to beingbound up once more, even though it was grossly cruel.

"I thought the doggy wanted to pee!" Nulinda's voice teased.

I waited and waited, but there was not the slightest move to untie me, andnone to move me away from the passing public driving by the open grass vergeon which my doggy bound body stood on its "four" legs.

Deneel began to pull my leash to take me back into the car. And then it happened.I could hold myself no longer, and my golden pee poured from the tight lipsof my mystery, hissing in hot steaming abundant abandon to the grassed ground.

Tears ran down my face at this complete and utter humiliation as my pee splashedon the grass between my wide parted thighs.

But worse was to come for the build up of tension within my divine body andthe heat it had generated within me as I had held my wine back within the perfectlyproportioned beautiful carafe my body formed for it, had brought on a build-upof wind and the overwhelming urge also to defecate.

Worse was to come, as I knew it must, for a disgusting open fart was followedby a turd emerging inexorably from my anus. In my legs bound state, I movedto squat for the defecation, and hung my head in complete surrender to completeutter total degradation as I expelled in their turn, two turds of girl-chocolaton the open ground in open display on open property in the open air, openlynaked.

"It is a shame to let her wine run to ground like that", remarked Miss Pringle. "Whenwe have her at the house, we must farm her for that delight and enjoy it withour evening meals."

"Shall we gather her chocolat too? Nulinda enquired in sweet innocence.

"If you wish it", Miss Pringle responded.

"Well, I for one would like to try it" Nulinda embarrassedly confessed, therebyseeming to admit to a delight that her fellow girls did not necessarily share.

"It is an acquired taste Nulinda", Miss Pringle warned. "Personally, I enjoythe expelations of beautiful girls by mixing their chocolat with sweetenedmilk. If you will join me in that, I will join you in enjoying Melody's chocolattoo".

"Oh, yes please!" Nulinda's giggling voice sexily pleaded as she rose toeven higher tiptoe in her tiptoe booties with her excitement.

"May I also join in that?" Deneel asked, in a voice indicative of the fearof being left out.

"Of course you may my angel", Miss Pringle assured her.

Whilst I was defecating, I had watched from the corner of my eye, prettyNulinda pull a short branch from a tree. I thought nothing of this other thanthe assumption she was passing time. But as she had waited for me to answernature's call, and watched me embarrass myself, she had been plucking off thesub-branches and leaves from this pliable strand. It was only as Deneel tookmy leash to make me crawl back to the car that I heard a whistle of air beingswiftly penetrated by a whisk of wood, and THWICK!, Nulinda whipped me on mynaked right thigh.

I yelped with the pain.

"Why did you do that Nulinda?" Miss Pringle asked in a measured tone hintingof a telling-off to come.

"I just wanted to" Nulinda answered nervously.

"Well, we mustn't hit the doggy when she is behaving herself. That is noway to teach her her place. The doggy will become confused if pain does notonly immediately follow naughtiness, and Melody has not been naughty in anyway that I have noticed."

"Sorry Miss Pringle", Nulinda answered with a touch of fear clearly evidentin her voice.

"It is not I to whom you should apologise, it is the doggy", Miss Pringleinstructed.

I now saw the pretty legs of Nulinda begin to bend at the knee so she couldsquat beside me and tell me she was sorry. And I felt a melting in my heartand in my naughty as Nulinda's lovely figure squatted down beside me and Icould adore her pert breasts as her pretty hands stroked my face and she said "Swowwy:werry, werry swowwy" and then kissed my forehead.

"Why don't you get the doggy to forgive you, by using the stick to throw,so she can bring it back to you? Doggies love that!" Miss Pringle proposed………

……….."No. On second thoughts, we'd better get on ourway", she continued. The doggy will probably want to chew that stick to piecesafter it has hurt her. Throw it away when she is not looking, so she won'ttry to chase after it." Miss Pringle ordered.

…………..

The rest of our journey took but a short while we being but a short time anda short distance from our arrival at a surprisingly large almost mansion-sizedhouse, the home of Miss Pringle whom, I realised, must be very wealthyin her own right, as this was not a home that could be afforded on thepittance paid to the headmistress of St Catherine's Academy for Girls alone.

I felt dirty and sweaty and would almost have sold my soul for a shower.The mental and physical soiling of my public urination and defecation and myuncleanliness from being unable to wipe myself hygienically, combined withmy sweaty state and my mental state to make me feel filthy and disgusting.But there was clearly no intention on the part of my captors to release mefrom my bonds. To them my soiled state was no more than that to be expectedof an animal.

"We agreed you would exercise the doggy" Miss Pringle reminded her two alltoo gloriously sexy naked companions, Deneel and Nulinda. "Let her go chasethis little rubber-ring. I bought it specially. She'll love to run after itand, if you teach her right, she'll bring it back to you each time, time andtime again"

We had not actually entered more than the front-door hallway of Miss Pringle'shouse when this conversation took place. I was still on my leash, wigglingalong on all-fours, with Nulinda's lovely lithe slim tiptoe-torsion-tensioned-calvedlegs, adorably flashing their divine compelling completely sexy sexually arousingerotic way in front of my feasting eyes.

I longed for indeed all but prayed for rest. My bound legs were hurting frommild cramp and I was not used to using my pretty arms as if they were legs.

"Take her round to the back garden: you know the way", Miss Pringle instructed.

I had no choice other than to obey, and thus faithfully crawled on my "fourlegs" along the crazy-paving path that led to Miss Pringle's very large andvery untidy and even more very overgrown back garden.

What a contrast this back garden was to the neatly trimmed span and spickfront lawns with their grass green, a sprinkler scattering water droplets tokeep them thus, and evident care taken to stripe them decoratively during frequentcareful mowing.

There must be something wrong in Miss Pringle's domestic arrangements, perhapseven caused by a financial shortcoming, that she could not afford to keep allof her garden in the very commendably smart state it was in at the front ofher home. It did not occur to me to think that this back garden of chaos weedsand abundant complex briar was an act of choice. I did not then know that MissPringle had wanted her rear garden to return to nature, and thus give the birdsshe adored their nesting and hunting grounds.

As I crawled along into Miss Pringle's back garden, I was also blissfullyunaware of the resentment that had built up in the childish mind of the petulantlypouting pulchritudinous Nulinda.

Nulinda had resented being told-off by Miss Pringle for whipping my bummywith the tree-branch when we had stopped so that I could empty my bladder.She dare not show her petty annoyance to Miss Pringle, but she was determinedto take her spite out on someone, and that someone was going to be me.

Unseen by Miss Pringle Deneel or I, Nulinda had taken a dog whip, made oftapering two-foot length black intertwining plaited leather strips, from MissPringle's entrance hallway, and had my superb thighs very much in her mindseye for this whip's curt kisses.

"You mustn't!" the stupefyingly lovely Deneel's perfect kiss-forming negress'lips called sweetly out to Nulinda, as Nulinda immediately walked me, stillon my leash, purposely over to where tall thistles were growing.

"Don't you try and tell me what to do; you're not a teacher!" the fiery temperedAsian-Indian beauty responded tartly. Nulinda pulled hard on the collar aroundmy neck as I momentarily tried to resist being made to crawl, as I was being,over to an outcrop of high healthy huge thistles Nulinda intended, fully clearlyintended, to make me crawl through in my total nudity.

"Please don't hurt her, she was so gentle with me" Deneel pleaded, recallingour divine kiss in the Wicked Wench.

"Mind your own business Deneel! You're not even at the Academy anymore!" thevengeful foot-stamping so very pretty fifteen-year-old Nulinda pertinentlypointed out, pert lips pouting petulantly, her beauty exceptionally enhancedby the fire flaming her veins: her smouldering resentment at being told whatand what not to do having taken bright red flame, adding an extra-wide emphaticside-to-side pendulum wiggle to her perfect bummy as she stormed and tiptoe-stompedin her anger.

"So, mind your own business" Nulinda repeated.

"Come on you bitch!" Nulinda spat out at me, as I cried out with the painwhen my lovely pendulous jiggling and joggling titanic titties were the firstparts of my superbly schoolgirl smooth flesh to be pricked and scraped by theprickles on the thistles, followed by my belly and the insides of my foldedlegs tied tight at the ankles to my upper thighs.

"Please don't! You're hurting her!" Deneel pleaded hopelessly helplesslyon my behalf.

"Shut up you ugly cow!" Nulinda shouted, before forcing me to crawl to andfro through the thistles twice more, staring defiantly, nostrils flared, mouthready to show contempt with her tongue at the gentle Deneel as she, Nulinda,dragged me by my dog's collar through fresh thistles to purposely hurt me,and I cried out with moans, gasps, squeaks, and squawks with the pain of mynaked body being prickled and pricked and scratched.

And strange things were happening to me as Nulinda forced me to degrade myselfby crawling through the abundant fresh thistles. And my nipples showed thatthe attentions of the spiteful spike-ended fronds of the thistles to my sensitivegirlbody had promoted a strange arousal in my innocent schoolgirl mind.

I was very young. I was very sexy. I was very sexual. I was very girl. Anda peek at the peaks of my perky points provided pertinent pert proof I wasprolifically powerfully provoked by Nulinda's pouting pique, and her purposelypassing me through the painful thistles.

Deneel then tried to snatch my leash, and remove it from my dog's collarout of sympathy for my plight. She was to be more than a little surprised,therefore, at the strength with which the slim schoolgirl Nulinda pushed herto one side, and began to drag my perspiring pained body toward her next targetfor my torment and torture, and her petty petulant revenge on Miss Pringlethrough me.

Hauled cruelly by my leash and collar, I crawled with my naked schoolgirlsoft body, being in my behaviour the obedient doggy, not least because I washighly turned on by my nipples being tortured by the thistles, some of thespikes of which were still penetrating my perky throbbing nubs. I was beingforced to crawl, without hesitation, reservation, or resistance. Indeed I wasmoving at the nearest to top-doggy-speed I could manage to running, towardwhere I was being fully purposely dragged by Nulinda: a huge bed of fresh springstinging nettles.

Deneel called out in horror for Nulinda to stop, but I was forced to be theobedient doggy and my cries of anguish and pleasure pain echoed in the silenceof the garden as even the lovely wild birds stopped to listen to a wanton girlin the highest state of horny heat as she took the torture intended by Nulinda,as she, I that is, had my lovely breasts and their supremely sensitive nipplesstung cruelly by the nettles that kissed my girlsoft flesh, as I obedientlycrawled, totally nude, completely naked, into their heady pain forewarningforeboding forbidding perfume.

I obediently crawled into the heady scent of the terrible stinging nettles,the insides of my arms, the front of my breasts, my glorious pointy pink nipples,and the insides of my bare thighs being stung and reddened, and become soreand painful as my lovely body reacted to the nettles using their defence mechanismsupon my gorgeous totally nude, completely naked unprotected flesh.

My pain only increased and seemed, after only milliseconds, to throb throughme like mass pins-and-needles, and my pretty mouth gasped as I realised whatI had enforcedly submitted myself to. And began to regret it, as a red rashspread over my beauty where the nettles had stung me so extensively, a rashfrom my rash run, a rash from my rush into the stinging hell, with horribleraised lumps that hurt and itched with parallel and combined intensity.

Meanwhile, Nulinda was beside herself with sexual arousal at torturing methis way. And so to add to and heighten her pleasure, she ordered me, by indicatingwith her index finger and pulling on my leash, to turn. And I turned in myfull glorious huge-tied-thighed nakedness totally nude, completely naked inthe stinging nettles, and I was stung on my breasts and my nipples and my bellyand my thighs and my bound lower legs. And I cried out and girly-gasped withthe pain. And Nulinda showed me the rubber ring I was to chase like the faithfuldoggy I was bound up as. And Nulinda ordered me to "sit" she commanded me "sit" andI sat, I squatted down with my rear and I yelped as my sex was stung. I yelpedas my nude shaven naughty was stung by the stinging nettles.

And my cries were sexual as I was obedient to the letter of the instructiongiven me by the dainty Nulinda. And my love-lips were stung and swollen, andswelling as the venom of the nettles that had kissed my slit, urged my honeyto flow to sooth my sex as it burned white-hot with the instant red rash thatsuffused my nude-shaven naughty naughty's naughty lips. And my honey flowedas I wiggled my bummy in the nettles so that I would be stung even more onand in my naughty. And it hurt, oh how it hurt, and oh how I loved its hurt!How I loved its hurt!! How I loved its hurt!!! And I wiggled my bummy purposelyto have my love-lips stung afresh and then stung some more, and some more,and some more, and how I loved its hurt! How I loved its hurt!! How I lovedits hurt!!!

And Nulinda unfastened my leash: Nulinda took off my dog lead and then threwthe rubber ring she had been given by Miss Pringle for me to chase. And I ranout of the stinging nettles being stung the more on my lollipops as they swungand swayed uncontrollably freely in my nudity, and I wiggled, my body red withthe stings I was enduring, with my naughty creaming cum-honey to sooth thevicious stings that had reddened its raw virgin shaven nakedness. And I ran-crawledto where the ring had landed. I ran on all-fours, the obedient doggy threatenedby the dog-whip if I did not obey, but needing no beating to make me obey,to where the ring had landed: to where the ring had been deliberately thrownby Nulinda. And I ran headlong into the unforgiving ripping embrace of a massivetangle of brambles that grew thicker and more complex and more imprisoningof my nude body as I forced myself into the hell of its embrace, an embracethat grazed and scratched my superlatively baby-soft peach-soft girlskin, andtore at my breasts and spiked my nipples and ripped at my thighs.

And I forced myself into the brambles. Naked as the day I was born, totallynude, completely naked, I forced myself into the brambles. Naked as the dayI was born but now a full-grown sexually awoken, sexually aware, sexually complete,sexually complex, sexually aroused schoolgirl, I crawled into the unmercifulbrambles so that they closed around me and wrapped around me and bound me soit was impossible for me to be more embraced and impossible for me to go forwardor backwards without my peachy skin being scratched and torn, I was so entangledin the briar. And I slowed and was forced to an irreversible halt.

My progress was slowed, and then unalterably halted, as the brambles wrappedme in an impossible imprisoning tangle. I was a naked schoolgirl wrapped inthe multiple-tentacled multi-thorned tentacles of lascivious brambles thatheld my lovely body in their soft-girlskin tearing, painful multi-arms: anembrace of thorn-strewn tangled tentacles that had scratched my honey-softskin and grazed, cut, and kissed me with cruelty, the cruelty with which Ibled. My fabulous flesh was torn, my soft firm breasts scratched and grazed,my exquisite nipples bleeding. And I was caught in the vicious grip of theunyielding brambles cocooned in the embrace of the thorns of the tangling brambles.

And as I tried to back out, a vicious fallen bramble tentacle was suddenlydividing the lips of my naughty and spiking my outer and then also my innerlove-lips. I cried out and screamed with the pain: and then the pleasure: thestrange overpowering sexy sexual pleasure. Its thorns were kissing my super-softsuper-sensitive outer and inner love-lips, and I was crying with the excruciatingpain, tears of regret torrenting down from my innocently deeply enticing deeplyblue eyes.

And yet I was coming. I was all-girl being reminded by my bleeding nipplesand even more the thorns of the bramble splitting the tenderness of my girl-lipsthat I was absolutely girl, extremely girl, supremely girl. And I was wrappedin the brambles; I was tied in the brambles by the unyielding soft girlskintearing briar. I was lacerated and bleeding. I was wounded and wound-roundwith the tentacles of the briar which scratched my pretty face as I sufferedtheir impossible inescapable embrace; the cruel embrace that my sexually drivendesire had forced me to obey the order from Nulinda that I drive my naked bodyinto, the cruellest of cruel entanglements: I was the girl in the burning bush.I was afire with the fire of my desire suffering for Nulinda's ire.

And with my lovely arms, my beautiful legs, my exquisite breasts my supremelyslim waist and even my pretty schoolgirl's soft complexioned angel's face caughtinescapably immovably in the torturing tentacles and tearing thorns of thevicious briar ripping my naked flesh, I came. And as I closed my tear-filledeyes with the unendurable pain, as the thorned bramble splitting the lips ofmy honeypot, sworded and sawed-at my super-sensitive lubriciously saturatedinner girl-lips, I came. And I howled like a hound with my cum as I workedmy honey soaked naughty on the horrible spikes, the terrible tearing thornsparting my girl-lips. And I came and came and came, as I purposely wantonlymasturbated my bleeding nettle-stung lip-sundered thorn-torn honeypot on thespikes of the bramble tentacle splitting my slit. And I anointed the fleshripping briar with my blood and my girl-honey: my cum honey, screaming withpain and pleasure and pleasure and pain as I orgasmed; and orgasmed from havingmy orgasm; and orgasmed from my orgasm from my orgasm, and orgasmed from myorgasm from my orgasm at my orgasm ……..

………………

Nulinda had had her revenge on Miss Pringle through me. The petulant Asian-Indianfifteen-year-old had me wrapped in the incredible ramble of bramble, thatthe gentle Deneel, with sweet tears of love trickling from her dark-brownheaven's-window eyes, was now using pruning shears, held in hands protectedby strong-garden-gloves to ward off the thorns, to snip the briar branchesto free me from their cruel enraptured capture: collateral consequenceof my compelling concupiscence.

Despite Nulinda's horrible rudeness to her, Deneel wanted to protect theAsian angel from the wrath of Miss Pringle who would be, she knew, or at leastthought she could be sure, incandescent when she saw the state I was in.

But, in the end, there could be no hiding my stung and rash covered, tornand bleeding body from Miss Pringle, and Deneel was terrified that, as theolder girl in charge over me, it would be she who received Miss Pringle's tonguelashing or lashings of a lashing with a different and far more painful lash.

There was no hiding my wounded state as I wiggled-in led by Deneel at theend of my leash, with Nulinda trying her hardest to look as if she were notthere. As I crawled in my "four-legged" bondage to the rear entry to Miss Pringle'slovely home, I passed a wooden construction, like a miniature garden-hut withan open doorway and puzzled myself as to what such as the hutch this appearedto be was for.

In contrast to the fear of anger from her the two lovely girls escortingme had anticipated, Miss Pringle seemed unshocked by my scratches and grazes,merely instructing Deneel to bathe the doggy whilst asking Nulinda to helpin the kitchen where a meal was to be prepared.

I was led crawling on my padded palms and knees, sweating and still feelingfilthy from the animal way I had been forced to urinate and defecate, intoa washroom where, in readiness for me, a large inflatable-rubber, children'spaddling pool was ready. I was dragged in by my leash, my collar was removed,and I had the highly sexually charged honour and deep pleasure of having mygirl-sensitive body bathed by the supremely sexy negress Deneel.

Try as I might, I could not control the sighs and cries that the flow ofDeneel's lovely hands bearing a sponge of white soap bubbles over my bare bodycaused me to emit. I wanted to show how I loved Deneel's tenderness, and howI could still taste her kiss and was not so chaste as to not to want to chaseher for more.

I tried so hard to tell her with my eyes and my sighs as she soaped my thighsthat my cries were for her and she could have me. But Deneel simply kissedmy forehead and told me I was adorable. Deneel's shapely arched back was stillrecovering from the last whipping she had endured at the hands of Miss Pringle,the whipping Deneel had had to be given to break her, and make her cry andbleed, so her girl-tears and her fresh-blood could be two of the fluids usedto found the making of Maiden Mead. Deneel had a strong will and had resistedcrying until the second lash.

The memory of the pain and how Miss Pringle had denied her an orgasm by dousingwith ice the fire in her menstruating minx, brought on by her scourging, stillhorrified Deneel who had no desire for an early reprise. Deneel knew she wouldbe whipped by Miss Pringle if she dared to touch me in any sexual way. So,even I could not tempt the temptress negress.

Then Deneel's soaking soaping stroking of my sopping body to wash me of thethorns and prickles that had scratched torn and tauntingly tormented me, stoppedas both our ears pricked up at the sound we could hear from next door to whereI was being doggy bathed.

"No!!" came the unmistakable pretty sound of the soprano Nulinda.

Then followed the steady "slap, slap, slap" of the percussive pandying ofa perfect pert bummy, mingled with Nulinda's cries of shock and pain as theblows repetitiously rained unstoppably: bare hand baring down on bared bummy.

"You will learn to do as you are told!" Miss Pringle could be heard to saymeasuredly calmly followed by Nulinda's petulant: "No!!" followed by more smacksfollowed by Nulinda's crying "Oh!" and more smacks followed by Nulinda's pleas,and more smacks followed by Nulinda's "Please!" and more smacks followed byNulinda's sexy sighs, and more smacks followed by Nulinda's cries, as the fifteen-year-oldlittle girl uninhibitedly orgasmed.

Nulinda's very youngness made her sexually afire at the very first smackon her bare bummy, and she knew no inhibition, being almost more child thatgrown-up, so that her body and mind were as one in the experience of the pain-pleasurecontinuum, and she was without constraint in kicking her pretty legs as shewas smacked, and had no control of her girl-juice as her innocent pure animalitycaused her naughty to pour forth copious cunt cream unrestrainedly. At herfirst of twenty smacks Nulinda had immediately orgasmed, and she had orgasmedtwenty times all told more strongly each time, she was so sexed, she was sosexy, she was so sexual, she was so young, she was so innocent, she was sogirl.

My own slit wetted and whetted and keened as I heard Nulinda's deeply sexualsighs and cries. And my ears had pricked up too, as I had heard an unmistakablebarking and yapping, in protest from a dog seeing a pretty girl being smackedon her bare bummy. My ears pricked up because I knew it must be Benji. My adorablepet Alsatian Benji was here and I could hear him so near barking at Miss Pringleto try and stop her spanking the delicious fiery feline Nulinda.

At last I would have a reminder of home. My lovely loved and loving pet hadarrived to spend the holiday with me. Even as I listened to Benji's baritonebarking, I realised he was no longer the puppy mummy and daddy had given meas a surprise present. I longed to see him and see for myself how he must havegrown. Benji was here! Hurray! Benji was here and my loneliness was at an end!!

I was being towelled dry by the negress nubile Deneel as I fought not toshow my excitement at the chance to see my pet doggy once more. I feared disappointment.I was indeed to be disappointed. Deneel replaced my collar, attached a chainand led me out of the back of Miss Pringle's home.

We were outside near the little wooden hut, as Deneel instructed: "You mustgo into your kennel"

Realisation then dawned. This was a kennel. This wooden hut was my kennel.I was to be treated like a dog even to the degree of having to sleep in a kennel!

Perhaps it was because I was so tired that I obeyed and backed myself intothe hut hutch kennel, my kennel, so unprotestingly. Perhaps it was becauseI was so tired that tears started in my eyes at this latest humiliation, asDeneel hooked my chain to the outside front of the kennel, my kennel, and placedtwo feeding bowls on the ground before me: one bowl containing cold water,and the other, disgusting smelly meat.

As I knelt on all doggy-bound four legs, Deneel's sweet scented body kneltbeside me momentarily.

"Forgive me sweetheart", she whispered, and she then stood and I watchedher glorious ivory dance-muscular tiptoe-topped legs, as she wiggled away toleave me for the night.

I was so very tired, that I lowered myself down, so I lay with my bound up "rear" legsfront of thighs on the hard wooden floor of the kennel, and my upper body crushingthe miraculous firm soft natural cushions a girl is provided with, my hugebreasts, hard onto my chest.

It was extremely uncomfortable, but I fell asleep and awoke with no recollectionof having fallen into slumber. I fell asleep in the fading light. I awoke inthe dark of the night, cold, hungry, stiff, weary, and aware that an unpleasantcycle had made its natural arrival: it was that time of the month: I was menstruating.

I felt so wretched as I began to trickle red, and to compound my misery aflash of lightening was followed by a crack of thunder and tumultuous heavyrain poured hard down, bouncing diagonally up from the ground multi-directionally,and soaking my exposed head: the exposed head of a bitch on heat.

I backed into my kennel as far as my chain would let me, and it would onlylet me shelter fully from the rain if I stood on all-fours as I now must foras long as the rain might choose to last.

…………….

I had licked water from my over-spilling bowl but could not face the stinkingmeat. I was therefore glad of the scraps that Miss Pringle threw on her kitchenfloor to make me humble myself my licking them up with my pretty tongue andlovely lips.

I had already undergone the humiliation of being taken for a morning walkby Nulinda pouting and sulking and hating me in a teenage fury. I had had tourinate and defecate as a doggy bitch must, but that was nothing compared tothe hideous discomfort of being totally naked as my body moved fully into itsmonthly cycle and my slit seeped.

My slit was now my wound. I bled like a girl must. I bled like a girl. Mybleeding confirmed I was a girl. I bled for my girlness. I bled for my beauty.My tenderness and love invoking bleeding, made me profoundly beautiful. Mybleeding confirmed my cyclic fertility. My bleeding announced I was ripe forreproduction. My bleeding wound refreshed my fecundity. That my slit couldbleed in this ultra-feminine way confirmed I was girl.

I was given no aid to absorb my flow. I seeped red. I seeped red-heat abundantlyfrom my shaven naughty. And I was given no aid to soak the flow. I must benatural girl. I must be natural doggy. I must be natural bitch. And so I mustseep red throughout the hot-high of my cycle. With no ministering to my monthlymenses, I was to leak like the uncaulked boards of a boat caught in the furyof the tempest: the "unstanched wench".

I felt hot and miserable. I longed for my torture to stop. There was no otherword than torture for the way I was bound up. Perhaps now I was so clearlyhaving my period, they would unbind my legs and let me be human once more.This I thought: that I thought wrong.

"I have guests this afternoon. I want you to bathe the doggy so she is fitto be among my guests" Miss Pringle instructed.

My bathing this time was to include the incredible full-length hair thatwas still wound up in now untidy plaited coils at my ears.

Never was a doggy bath so refreshing, even if I did turn the water red. ButI felt no pleasure at being girlhandled by Deneel and Nulinda both. I justfelt hot tearful tired and wretched.

It took an endless age to wash comb and brush my hair and wind it back intothe coils of corn-coloured-blonde plaits that had all the appearance of beingmy doggy ears. But it was done, and I was put back in my kennel listening tothe arrivals at the front of the house as any number of women arrived and weregreeted in turn or in group by Miss Pringle.

Wretched as I was though, I could not but react to the sexy sight of Nulindaand Deneel as they came a while later to fetch me, for both lovely girls weredressed as maids.

Both wore flared-out "French-Maid" dresses, with frilly aprons, suspendersand stockings, and, quite blatantly obviously, no panties. But what caughtthe eye was that these two stupendously too stupendously lovely sexy girls,were dressed like photograph and negative.

Nulinda's light brown black-haired sensual sexy fifteen-year-old girl-woman'sflawless loveliness was enhanced by her wearing a black maid's dress, withher gorgeous slim legs displayed in black net stockings held up by the visiblesuspenders that stretched their tops but left dreamy creamy brown thigh ondisplay below the shadow between her thighs where her black-haired naughtywas openly exposed for the delight of the eye.

By supreme contrast, Deneel, the black beauty with her curled coils of coiffure,wore the same, but with a dress and net stockings of white and an apron ofblack: Dennel's quim being, of course, open and exposed bald and bare, havingbeen depilated since the days of her being the School Slag at St Cath's.

Both girls were naturally firm of bosom, but both must have been wearinga quarter cup brassiere, or some other aid to their natural pre-eminence, asboth displayed wonderful prominent protuberances, perkily pushed out, roundlysmoothly heaving heavenly soft firm breasts, and abundant cleavage, proudlyproving they were undoubtedly girls.

Both also wore identical shoes. Eight-inch heeled delights, with slim strongankles decorated by broad straps: Nulinda's in black patent leather, and Deneel'sin white.

I was unchained and fitted with my leash by Deneel, who now led me to thegathering where I could hear the clamour of inconsequential chatter as girlsand women caught up with the latest happenings at St Catherine's Academy, fascinatedby the tales headmistress Amelia Pringle could tell them, and waited upon bythe two lovely "French Maids" who had now come to fetch me.

My nerves were a mass of massive tingles as I wiggled along on the end ofmy leash. What would these women know: no: what could these women think ofme? I longed to hide myself, but could not help but be dragged inexorably alongat the end of my lead.

I was terrified as I was taken, and my leash untied, leaving me strandedstanding on my "four feet" in the middle of the room. And yet I was being ignored.Here was I, a sensuously sense-stunning sexy stripped sixteen-year-old schoolgirl,with strawberry teats tipping my monumental mammaries, my devastating half-moondemisphere rear, my sigh-making heart-aching fabulous thighs, my angelic innocent'sface, and I was not, at least not apparently, even being noticed as I crawledbound like a doggy-bitch among Miss Pringle's guests.

So prickly and sensitive was I in my on-heat state however, that even thoughto be totally ignored had been my one most devout and prayed-for wish as Ihad been made to crawl into that room; to be ignored now I was in the roomwas deeply hurtful. I was girl and what I wanted I did not really want whenI could have it, and what I had I did not really want because I had alreadygot it.

Then Benji came around from behind a settee, stretched out his front paws,lifting his rear, his tail up like a periscope, and yawned with a little lolledtongue: a yawn ascending to a yelp.

It was Benji! It was my pet! It was my lovely loveable Alsatian! Even inmy misery I had a friend and I wiggled over to snuggle to his muzzle and remindhim of our fun in the park near our home, the home of my parents back southnear London.

By his instant reaction, Benji had not, as I feared he might have, Benjihad not forgotten me, and he licked my face joyously, stopping only occasionallyto sniff the air.

I was careful to ensure I was still not being particularly looked at by theguests, as I whispered in his ear: "Benji! Oh you adorable…Benji!" andBenji licked my face all over profusely and with unapologetic unselfconsciousuninhibited doggy joy.

Stopping only to sniff the air. Benji yapped his joy at rediscovering hismistress, and my eyes filled with tears of innocent happiness as he dancedaround before me, wagging his tail wildly, thrashing all and everything andeveryone in sight, wagging his rudder and snuffling the air and licking myface.

But then what was this? Benji was going around behind me as I stood on myall-fours. Benji was going around behind me his nose quivering. And Benji wasaround behind me and his head was between my bound-up legs. And "No Benji!No!!" I shouted out loud, silencing the chatter and the clatter of teacupsfor a split second before they both, the chatter and the clatter, and the clatterand the chatter began again, as if nothing untoward or surprising in the leastwas going on.

"Nooooo Benji! Noooo!!" I cried once more, but this time it caused no disturbanceand nobody was in the least concerned that my own pet dog, Benji, was lickingmy nude love lips because he wanted to taste my hot menses. And my blood, theblood from the high-heat pinnacle of my cycle seeping from my slit, was turninghim on.

The message of my menses to Benji as he massaged my naughty with his eagerlicks was that this was a bitch on receptive heat.

"No Benji! No!!" I cried helplessly tearfully yet again, but my lovely pet'slicking tongue had parted my nether lips and was lapping at my inner lips andI was loving his loving. "No Benji! No!!" I sighed as he rose on his back legswith his paws on my bare back. "No Benji! No!!" "No Benji! No!!" "No Benji!No!!" "No Benji! No!!" "No Benji! No!!" I gasped and begged and panted breathlessly,with desire inspired, as his erect penis sought my seeping naughty. And a splitsecond later he was in my inner innocence, and in my innocence I was beingshagged, I was being fucked. My own pet dog was shagging and fucking me.

And a split second later still, he was out of me, and I cried out with frustrationthat he had begun what he had begun and not finished what he had not finished,and I had been mounted and surmounted, taken but forsaken. He had aroused meand now frustrated me, and I wanted him to have me; I wanted him to shag me;I wanted Benji, my pet Alsatian, to fuck me. I wanted his cock in my cunt.I wanted him to tail his mistress. I wanted him to divide my shaven slaveringslippery slattern's slit. I wanted his shaft in my sheath. I wanted his swordin my scabbard. I wanted him to shag me and shoot his creamy cum in my cunt.He could fuck my bummy! Would he like to fuck my bummy? Please fuck my bummy!Oh Benji, oh Benji please fuck me. Oh god, Benji, fuck me!! Fuck me!! Fuckme!! Fuck me!! Fuck meeeeeeee!! I screamed inside my head, and with my voluminouslyvocal girly squeaks and heavy heaving sighs.

But Benji had tasted all he wanted to taste and wandered off leaving me openlycrying, tears streaming in depraved deprivation, desiring the return of thesplit-seconds of my slit being split, the microseconds of physical love, thephysical sundering and plundering that my body was created for and craved.

And I, the craven deprived depraved cur, cried and cried as my cunt-firecooled: desire unsated; arid; my eager furrow unploughed; unseeded; unsown;fallow; waiting; wanting; wasted; deserted; begging; hopeless; the lover lostto her lust: her lust lost on a lover left, and thus left loveless and listless,forlorn and lovelorn…….

……And the chatter of voices and the clatter of tea-cups…………

and the clatter of voices and the chatter of tea-cups………..

……and the tea-cups' clatter and the voices' chatter …………

………went on all around the room betwixt Miss Pringleand her guests, as if nothing had happened: as indeed for still powerfullypassionately panting pulchritudinous poor maiden me, nothing had, save a "somethingnothing", amounting to less than a "nothing nothing". By my being had, andnot had, I had been divided and ruled; but I had been sundered; not plundered:so I wept and wept and wept for want: wanton for want, wanton for more, wantingmore, craving more, crazy for more, craven from less, sobbing from excess,excess of less, frozen frigid from fierce fiery fulminating frustration.