Chapter 21: Peer pressure. Cheryl tries to be teacher's pet.
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
Chapter 21: Peer pressure. Cheryl tries to be teacher's pet.
I was dreaming, that I remember. Sounds, images and emotions passed me by, but I cannot remember what they were. All I can recall is that they all fled when that annoying beeping started.
Slowly, difficultly, my eyes opened. I discovered the beeping came from the display, where the clock said six AM.
After week in Mistress Christina's household I had become quite accustomed with waking up early, but right now I felt like I could sleep for hours more.
Still half asleep, I slapped my hand at a 'snooze' button that was not there. The alarm kept blaring.
A voice mixed with the sound. “Rise and shine, Cheryl,” Big Sister said merrily.
I pulled my thoughts, such as they were, together and pushed the green button. “I'm awake, Miss,” I said rather untruthfully.
“Good. Clean yourself up and get ready. Inspection at seven.”
“Yes, Miss,” I replied as I got out of bed, took of my babydoll and put on my bathrobe, cap and heeled slippers.
The door was unlocked, and I made my way to the bathroom. Tiffany was already there, which soured my mood further. I guess Suzy was there as well, as two tutors were waiting outside an occupied shower cabin, occasionally looking inside watchfully.
I slipped into another shower cabin, glad my tutor was nowhere to be seen, and tried to wash away the tiredness with warm water. It didn't quite work, but I did feel better by the time I returned to my room.
I got into today's uniform. Bra and panties first. Next was the corset, which was laced in front, so I could easily tie it myself. I pulled firmly on the laces. I wasn't looking forward to wearing a tight corset, but Brigitt's training had accustomed me to worse, and if I showed my commitment perhaps I would receive a commendation.
I rolled up my stockings, then pulled the dress over my head. Everything was the same pristine white as yesterday's outfit.
As I arranged my dress, I did notice some differences. My shoulders were partially covered, and the skirt was slightly shorter. When I pulled up the petticoat, the rim was pushed even higher. My panties were still hidden, though.
I finished with my heels. The stilettos were a bit higher than yesterday, but still comfortable. The strap around my ankle was new, but the simple buckle was not out of the ordinary.
There was no plug, which I was very happy about. Things were starting to look up.
I went over to my vanity mirror, where I fixed my hair and put on makeup. Instead of the slutty look I usually applied, I tried to emulate yesterday's pretty appearance. Perhaps it was my fatigue, but I had trouble getting it right. In the end it was a bit more tacky than I had intended.
I finished with cleaning up my room. Putting away my makeup. Making the bed. Putting away a few loose items. I had been given a list with all items and where they should be placed, and I quickly went trough it. “Underwear in top drawer, check. Dresses in closet, check. Heels in closet, check...”
“Six-fifty-five, Cheryl,” Big Sister suddenly called out. “Inspection time.”
“Yes Miss,” I said, even though she could not hear me. That time already? I quickly looked over my appearance, then skittered to the centre of my room.
I assumed my position: legs together and erect, chest bent slightly forward and my behind outwards perkily. I kept my elbows close to my body as I held my hands out wide. I wiggled my jaw to loosen some muscles, then conjured a pretty smile on my face. I was ready to face my tutor.
The clock read seven AM. Then seven-ten. Seven-fifteen.
I was getting uncomfortable again. What's taking her, I thought? For a moment I considered contacting Big Sister, but that had hardly worked out yesterday, so I decided just to grit my teeth and bare it.
I was wobbling in my heels by the time the door handle turned. I immediately froze in my sissy-stance, smile on my face.
The door opened and Frau Ochsenhorn stepped inside. My smile disappeared immediately.
She was holding a paddle of stupendous size.
“Good morning, Cheryl,” she said with her remarkable baritone, tapping her free hand with the paddle.
Eyes wide, I looked at her as she stood in the doorway. Had she grown even bigger overnight?
I opened and closed my mouth like a goldfish, aghast at the sight of this... woman.
She looked at me expectantly, and fortunately weeks of training took over.
“Good morning, Miss Ochsenhorn,” I said as I made a pretty bob. “A pleasure to meet you this morning.”
She growled something that may have been a laugh. “Is it now? Let's see how long that will last. Turn around.”
I did as ordered.
“Your seams are crooked,” she said. “Pigtails are of uneven length...”
She grabbed my arm and swung me around to face her again. Holding my chin, she tilted my head from side to side. “Makeup is adequate, but unremarkable.”
I yelped as when she suddenly reached under my skirt. Fortunately, her hand passed my clitty and went to my waist instead. “Corset is tied... but you could have done better.”
She let go and stepped back, crossing her arms. She twirled the paddle around in her hand. I tried to look at her, but my eyes were continuously drawn to the rotating paddle. My mind tried to calculate how fast it went, and how much it must hurt when it struck bare skin.
“How disappointing,” she grumbled. “They told me you are the golden girl of this litter. A natural, they said. Seems I got my work cut out for me.”
“I'm sorry miss!” I said desperately. “I'll do better next time, I promise!”
“Oh, believe me, you will,” she growled. “Place your hands on the vanity table.”
“Yes, miss,” I replied dazed. I minced over to the table and placed my palms on the cool surface. I looked at the terrified girl in the reflection, then at the brute with the sledgehammer behind me.
“Five strikes, Cheryl,” she said as she pulled my skirt up and panties down. “Count them,”
Five strokes. That's not bad, right? One time I've endured five times as much. Perhaps this is not that bad...
I heard a whoosh, then a loud slap.
“Aaah!” I hear myself shout. Yes, it was that bad! Both my ass-cheeks were on fire, which she had stuck simultaneously with the long paddle.
“Well?” The ogre said.
“...One...” I counted.
The second strike hit me at the exact same spot, inflaming a sore skin even further. I squealed in dismay.
I swallowed hard. “...Two...” I said.
Another whoosh, another shout. “...Three...”
At the count of four I had tears in my eyes. When I finally counted five, they were running down my cheeks.
“Stand straight, girl. Pull your panties up. Now look at me,” she said.
I did as I was told.
“Now, do you remember yesterday's lessons?” she asked me. I muttered an affirmation.
“Good. Now answer me this: why shouldn't a girl wear white shoes after Labour Day?”
I blinked in confusion. “Wha... What?” I simply stammered.
She looked at me severely. “You should know this, Cheryl. It was mentioned during your fashion class. Now answer the question, girl.”
Confused, frightened I looked from side to side, mind racing, I tried to remember the lecture. Through a haze I recalled our teacher saying something about why some fashions depend on the season, but not much else...”
“I... I... Because... Er...” I mumbled.
“Well?” She asked with barely concealed threat.
I looked at her in horror. “...I... don't know...” I uttered.
She was silent as she studied my face. “Hand on the table,” she simply said.
“What?... No! Please miss...” I said desperately.
With her free hand she grabbed my neck hand turned me towards the vanity mirror.
“Hands on the table,” she repeated. I stammered some pleas, but did as I was told.
“Two more,” she said as she pulled my panties down.
Breakfast was a pitiful event. I wiggled on my seat, trying to ease the pressure on my behind. After my spanking I had lost my appetite, but I forced myself to eat something as not to incur my tutor's wrath.
There was some joyful music coming from a speaker, which only accentuated the abysmal atmosphere in the dining hall. Surrounded by out tutors, each sissy was as silent as the grave. Maybe they tried to avoid attention, or perhaps they had received their own chastisement. Either way, I really did not care. Even Tiffany's sulk didn't lighten me up.
Things did not improve much during class. It seemed our teachers had been replaced by their evil twins. Miss Keller, the makeup expert who only yesterday had been a friendly enough, now had brought a long wooden rod, which she used at abandon. “Stupid girl,” she had said when I overdid my blush. “Get over here. Hands on my desk.”
Miss D'Ives wasn't any better. Her tool for the day was cat o' nine tails. “Keep your back straight, Cheryl. Don't you dare drop that book. Move faster, girl. Back straight, I said!”
And believe me when I say I memorised the dos and don'ts of winter fashion.
Lectures ended in the afternoon, after which we had were free to 'do as we pleased'. We all just retreated to our rooms to sulk, lick our wounds and do tomorrow's homework assignments.
I was sitting behind my vanity mirror, trying to focus on my homework. As I tied to create the 'smokey eyes' effect, I was fighting back my frustration.
It wasn't fair, I thought. During class it was obvious I was the best student, but still I received the same amount of punishment as the others. Perhaps even more. And despite my best efforts, I hadn't earned a single commendation. They were clearly holding me to a different standard.
I rubbed my tormented behind, then thought about Mistress Christina. Not a single commendation... How ashamed of me she must be.
I turned my head, looked at the envelope lying on the table. After a moment of hesitation, I picked it up. I need commendations, I though as I opened the envelope. For my sake and that of Mistress Christina.
I studied my assignment. Then I made my plan.
I tapped the door. I heard some movement on the other side, but no reply. I tapped again.
“Yes? Who is it?” A voice said.
“Daniëlle? It's me, Cheryl. May I come in please?”
“Er... Sure. Just a minute.” More movement was audible. “Is anyone with you?”
“No, it's just me,” I replied.
I heard heels approach the door, then the handle turned. The door opened slightly and I saw Daniëlle's face appear. She didn't open the door any further.
“You sure?” She said as she looked behind me.
“Er... I think so,” I answered as I checked the empty corridor again, suddenly starting to doubt myself. “Why? What's wrong?”
“Nothing! I mean... come in,” she replied rather flustered. She quickly opened the door, took my hand and practically pulled me inside. She quickly closed the door behind me.
“So... this is your room,” I said rather redundantly.
“Yes, home-sweet-home,” Daniëlle answered agitated.
“It's exactly the same as mine...”
“What? Didn't you get the presidential suite?” She replied sarcastically.
I ignored her rude tone, walking over to her vanity table and mirror. “Is this yours?” I asked as I looked it over. It was identical to mine, down to the lineup of different colours of nail polish, lipstick and eyeliner, as well as the broad selection and brushes in a holder. I picked up and inspected small bottle of bordeaux red.
“I guess so...” she answered with a shrug.
She pointed me towards a chair and sat down on the bed, covering her upper legs as best she could with the hem of her dress.
Her outfit had changed as well, but differently from mine. The hem of her dress incorporated lace, as did other parts. It was looser around the waist than mine, and the skirt was a bit longer. Her cleavage looked sexy enough, but more demure than mine.
It was clear our uniforms were no longer, well, uniform. All the novices still wore white, but each outfit had its unique aspects. I had no idea what this signified.
I tore my eyes away from how her outfit made her seem young and innocent, and focussed on Daniëlle's face. She looked jittery.
“So... er... what can I do for you, Cheryl?” She asked.
“I just wanted to check up on you. Make sure you are all right.” I said.
She smiled sarcastically. “Oh, I'm fine. I'm great, in fact. I love the fact I'm locked up in some hole while wearing a dress. Having Beelzebub as my tutor is just icing on the cake.”
I looked at her, then simultaneously we started to snigger. Black humour is humour too, you know.
I scratched my behind absent-mindedly “Yeah, I know what you mean...”
“And you?” She asked. “They didn't go easy on you today.”
“No, they didn't. But I'll manage. Right now they are just trying to scare us into submission, I think. I'm sure if we just do what we're told and play along with them, things will get easier.”
“I hope so,” Daniëlle said, but I could see the distaste in her eyes. Having to concede her status as a sissy was still difficult for her.
For a moment, neither of us spoke, but then I broke the silence.
“Daniëlle... I wanted to apologise....” I said.
She looked at me surprised. “What for?”
“For yesterday,” I answered. “For giving you a hard time in the Headmistress' class.”
She snorted. “Don't be. It's not your fault. The Baroness made you do it.”
“Still, it was me who gave you all those commands...” I countered.
She looked at me. “It's okay Cheryl. Really. You don't need to apologise.” A pretty smile appeared on her face. “But I appreciate it all the same. Thank you.”
She didn't say anything else, but she did seem more relaxed.
I had done what I come here to do. “Perhaps I should go. Still got homework...”
“Cheryl, wait,” Daniëlle suddenly said. “I have something for you...”
She leaned under her bed and pulled out her suitcase. It was empty, since by now she would have placed the few personal items she was allowed to bring in her closet.
She gently tugged at the fabric lining the inside of the suitcase. A tear at a seam became noticeable. She put her hand through the tear, then pulled out a small and flat bottle.
“What's that?” I said surprised. Daniëlle quickly shushed me, listening for any activity on the other side of the door.
“It's whisky,” she said softly, but with a wide grin. “I nicked it from my aunt and smuggled it in my luggage. You want some?”
“That's contraband,” I said flabbergasted. “If they catch you with that...”
“They won't. I'll be careful. But don't say anything to anyone, promise?”
I looked Daniëlle in the eyes. I wished she hadn't told me this. Clearly she trusted me completely, even if didn't think I deserved it.
Still, I did not hesitate when I gave her the answer. “I promise.”
She smiled her pretty smile as she nodded, unscrewing the bottle cap. She took a sip of the amber liquid. She shuddered as she swallowed, clearly unaccustomed to strong liquor. She exhaled deep and loud, as if to cool the fire she by now felt in her mouth and gullet. Then she offered me the bottle.
I looked at the glass bottle is confusion. Witnessing a serious infraction was one thing. But participating in it? “I really shouldn't...” I said, non-committal.
She looked at me gravely. “You sure? After a day like this I need a freaking drink, and I bet you do too. But I fear we will run out of booze long before we run out of days, so you should take it while anything is left.”
There was a moment of hesitation, then I grabbed the bottle and placed it on my lips. I resisted an unfamiliar urge to simply gulp it down, and took a modest sip instead, careful not to waste it. I felt the alcohol light up my mouth, while complex flavours of oak and malt wrestled on my tongue.
I swallowed the divine nectar, and suppressed a cough as it went down. “...Good stuff...” I stammered, wiping of some lipstick residue I left on the bottleneck, then handed the bottle back to Daniëlle. She took another sip before closing it and hiding it away again.
I left shortly after. We both muttered some goodbyes without taking our eyes of one another.
I opened the door, gave Daniëlle one last look, then stepped into the corridor to my next destination.
“What is it, Cheryl? I'm busy.”
Tiffany stood in the doorway, none too happy to see me. Her frown was accentuated by the arms she had crossed in front of her.
“May I please come in?” I asked as bashfully as I could without sounding meek.
“What part of 'busy' don't you understand?”
What part of applying eye-shadow don't you understand? I thought as I looked at her handiwork. But I held my tongue.
“Please, Tiffany. It will not take long,” I replied instead.
“Oh, very well. Come in,” She said with clear annoyance.
She led me inside her room, also identical to mine. As she walked in front of me, I couldn't help noticing how her dress hugged her figure. Without a petticoat, her skirt fell narrowly around her behind and legs and swayed seductively from side to side with every step.
I passed her vanity table, where she clearly had been attempting to do her homework, judging from the tangle of used brushes and pots.
“Are you working on eye-shadow?” I asked “You might want to use a smaller brush if you...”
“Why are you here, Cheryl?” She interrupted rudely as she turned towards me. “Because I really do not have time for girl-talk or friendly advice.”
I took some effort to remain amicable, but I managed nonetheless.
“Very well... I just wanted to say it seems we got off on the wrong foot.” I said with my friendliest voice. “I know I've been overly harsh with you and for that I apologise. You've been mean with me a couple of times as well, but I understand you didn't really intend to. How about us burying the hatchet? This place is hard enough without us banging heads for no good reason.”
She looked at me like she found something nasty stuck to her shoe. “Yeah, sure. Fine. Whatever. Is that all?”
I swallowed hard. “If you need help, just let me know. Perhaps I can be of assistance.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence, but I'm sure I'll manage even without your expert help,” she said sharply. “I'll call if I want someone to swap gossip with. Then we can braid each other's hair while we're at it.”
I had to stop myself from grinding my teeth. “...Thank you for your time, Tiffany.”
“The pleasure was all mine, Cheryl. I'm sure you know your way out.”
Without another word or another backward glance I stepped out of her room and into the corridor. Now I really was grinding my teeth.
I passed my door, but I did not stop there. I continued down the corridor towards the common room.
Before opening the wooden door, I checked my outfit and straightened my posture. Next I conjured a pretty smile on my face, and held my hands daintily.
Then I opened the door an stepped into the lounge area. Careful to apply Miss D'Ives' hard-learned lessons, I minced as a picture-perfect sissy across the room. I kept my head straight, still smiling merrily, as my hips swayed from side to side with every click of my heels. A subtle wave in the motion of my hands completed the picture.
From the corner of my eyes I could see the camera in the corner following my movement. As I suspected, Big Sister was watching me.
Careful not to lose my balance, I daintily turned on my heels and minced over to the camera. When I was close enough to its evil eye, I stopped and performed a proper curtsey.
“Yes, Cheryl?” Was the curt reply of the metallic voice.
“Miss, I would like to report that I have finished the assignment in my envelope,” I said not too loud. The common area was empty, with my classmates still in their rooms, but it seemed prudent nonetheless.
“What was you assignment, girl?” The metallic voice asked.
I hesitated. Performing the act was easier than I thought. But admitting it out loud was surprisingly hard.
“Well?” Big Sister asked impatiently.
I took a deep breath “I had to take an item from one of my classmates' rooms and place it in the room of another without either of them knowing, then report to you. I stole a bottle of bordeaux red nail polish from Daniëlle's room and left it in Tiffany's.”
“Good girl,” the metal voice said contently. “You will be awarded three merits upon verification.”
My smile turned from fake to sincere. “Thank you, Miss,” I said while making a bob.
“That will be all, girl.”
“Yes Miss.” I bobbed again, then turned on my heels towards my room. I was careful to maintain my sissy-mince as I was sure Big Sister was till observing me. When I entered the corridor I relaxed a bit, as there were no cameras here.
I entered my room and sat down behind my vanity table, intended to continue with my homework. Instead I was interrupted by stray thoughts.
What was the point of this weird assignment, I thought. It didn't improve my sissy skills, and I doubted I Mistress would ever require me to steal stuff. Was it a secret test of character? To see if I was honest enough not to steal? Then why did I receive merits? I really had no idea.
I did feel a bit guilty towards Daniëlle. It was not that I was misleading her: my apology was quite sincere. It was just that she had shown immense trust in me by showing me the bottle, while I couldn't even find the heart to tell her about the nail polish I had snitched and stuffed in my bra.
My peace offering to Tiffany was much less sincere. I couldn't care less about burying the hatchet with that annoying hussy, but it did give me a pretext to come into her room. The fact that she rudely refused my offer simply confirmed that she was indeed a bitch.
I focused on my homework, and picked up a brush. I selected the combination of colours Miss Keller had mentioned and got to work. I still had an hour before supper; plenty of time to get it perfect. Perhaps I'd get another merit if the tutors saw my handiwork.
Three merits is a great start, I thought contently.
The next day started much like the previous one. Wake up at six (though I was so groggy it took me a while to remember where I was and what I should be doing). Getting cleaned and dressed. Inspection at seven.
Despite that I was very anxious when Frau Ochsenhorn entered, she proved to be much more lenient than the day before. I was very glad to see she hadn't brought that monstrous paddle with her, disciplining me with a regular crop instead. Her inspection was thorough, of course, and two small mistakes earned me two strikes on each hand and two on my behind. Don't get me wrong, it still hurt and any other day I would have been close to tears, but compared to yesterday it wasn't all that bad.
Things took an unexpected turn after breakfast. Instead of being mince-marched to the classroom, we were escorted back to our rooms.
Trying not to doze off and prevent unladylike yawns, I stood at attention in my girlish outfit. It had changed again. The dress was the same, but my heels were slightly higher. The panties a bit frillier and the petticoat more voluminous. The bows in my hair were more elaborate.
Finally my tutor entered. She was holding the paddle again, the sight of which almost caused me to forget to bob a respectful curtsey.
“Good news, Cheryl,” she said with her low voice. “We've checked, and I can confirm you finished your assignment. That is three merits for you. This grants you TV and music privileges in the common room.”
“Thank you, Miss,” I said elated.
“Don't mention it, girl. That will be all.”
She (and that monstrous paddle) was almost to the door when she suddenly stopped and turned to face me again. “Wait, more more thing. Cheryl. Do you remember the headmistress' words on keeping your room in order?”
“What were they?”
“I'm responsible for every item in my room, whether its furniture, clothing or makeup. All items must be accounted for and in their proper positions.”
“Very good,” she said with a content growl. “And tell me... Is everything in order?” Her eyes bored into mine.
“I think so, Miss,” I replied rather hesitantly.
“Insufficient answer, girl. As you said, you are responsible for this room. You have to be sure. So I'll ask you again: is everything in order?”
I turned my eyes as far as I could, but everything seemed fine. I mentally retraced my steps this morning's; I've put away the makeup, made the bed. Put away yesterday's outfit... I could find nothing wrong. “Er... Yes, Miss.”
She casually walked over to my Chest of drawers and opened the middle one. “So everything is fine in here?”
I looked at the neatly folded stack of panties on the left, and the sorted row of bras at the other side. I looked flawless.
“Yes, Miss. My apologies if I seem ignorant, but is there something you are trying to tell...” My voice fell silent as it suddenly hit me.
There was a nasty smile on my tutor's face as she looked at me. “Yes?”
“...They are...” I said with a stammer, “in the...”
“In the wrong drawer. Exactly!” She said loudly, with a mixture of amusement and contempt.
I gasped like a goldfish on dry land. “I don't understand... How could I... I was sure I had placed them correctly!”
She walked over to me and leaned forward, putting her nose an inch before mine.
“Well, clearly you didn't, stupid girl!” she said with a sneer. Tapping the palm of her hand with the paddle.
Then she straightened her back, a mean smile on her face. “Or maybe... just maybe... you did. And then one of your classmates sneaked into your room. Made some subtle changes as part of her assignment.” She let that sink in for a moment.
“I guess we'll never know for sure. But what I do know is that this is your room, which makes you responsible for this disordered mess.” She twirled the paddle around in a wide circle.
I started to blabber. “But.. But I...”
She nodded towards the vanity mirror. “Put your hands on the table, Cheryl,” she said with a firm voice, tapping the paddle. “I think that five will do for now.”
“But that's not fair!” I suddenly wailed. “One of the other sissies did this. She is to blame. Tiffany, I bet it was Tiffany! She should be punished. Not me!”
“The table, Cheryl...” The ogre said with a growl.
“No!” I blurted, surprising myself most of all. “I'm innocent. I'm a good girl! Go ask Tiffany. She'll admit it, I'm sure. She's mean! She's... gurmpfh!”
With a speed I didn't think was physically possible for such a woman, her other hand shot out and covered my mouth, then pulled me around and against her, pressing me against her chest.
“You don't want to go over to the table?” Her voice resounded with dread. “Fine. Let's go to your bed instead.”
I pulled at her arm, trying to get her hand of my mouth, but it didn't budge. We covered the few steps over to my bed, and she shoved me forward.
Losing my balance in my heels, I fell forward, landing on all fours on the mattress. Then the minotaur was on me again, her free hand grabbing my hair and pulling it back. I shrieked.
“You just bought yourself three more, little lady,” she said with her thundering baritone. “Now stick up that ass of yours. Now! You do not want me to tell you again.”
I calmed down a bit. Just enough to do as she said, raising my behind as high as possible. With her paddle my tutor flipped up my skirt and exposed my panties. I grabbed the sheets of my bed in dismay. My lower legs, sticking out over the side of the bed, instinctively began to move, giving my heels those pretty little kicks Mistress liked so much.
Miss Ochsenhorn saw this, and observed it with interest. Suddenly, she gently stroked my behind with her paddle. “I had been informed that are very cute when you are spanked. I did not really believe it, but perhaps there is some truth in the matter after all.” She let go of my hair, grunting something that was supposed to be a snigger. “Tell you what, princess: if you manage to keep kicking like that, and squeal, wiggle and moan prettily while I discipline you, you'll receive a merit.”
“...I want to spend my merits,” I managed to blurt out.
My tutor snorted. “Very well. How many?”
“Three,” I said. Giving up hard earned merits is surprisingly easy when an ogre with a massive club is about to slap you silly.
“All three of them? You'd give up all your privileges. And you haven't even tried the big screen TV yet. Sorry little girl, but I will not let you make such a grave error.” She gave my behind a playful tap. “Tell you what, I'll let your spend one merit. That will reduce your punishment to the original five. And if you manage to gain that other merit, you will keep your TV privileges. That's fair, right?”
“That's settled then. Time to earn that merit, princess!”
She placed the paddle against my behind, aiming for the right spot. I muttered a cute 'ooh' as I wiggled my behind and shook my legs.
“Not bad, but you can do better. You want that merit, don't you?” She readied the paddle for her first strike. “Don't bother counting, just show me how adorable you are when you are spanked. Here comes...”
I heard a swoosh, a slap, followed by the cutest squeal I ever heard.
Oh, I kicked my legs all right. And wiggled my behind. And moaned. And did everything else that was adorable and managed to take my mind of my burning rear.
“Good, but don't act like you are enjoying it. This is still a punishment.”
Enjoying it? I thought. How on earth is anyone supposed to enjoy...
Another whoosh. Another strike.
“Yes, lovely squeal. Kick those heels, cutie-pie. Keep that ass up! Good. Nice wiggle.”
Three more strikes followed. And every time I tried to be the very epitome of a spanked cutie.
What can I say? I got my merit.
Despite my best efforts (and some disciplinary measures of my teachers), I had trouble focussing on my lessons. Aside from feeling very tired, one question kept grinding in my mind: who had entered my room and condemned me to a paddling?
It must have happened when I was with Daniëlle, I thought. But I could not ignore the possibility that it occurred while I was in Tiffany's room, or even in the common area. I looked at my classmates, trying to find signs of their guilt.
Most looked tired, and every now and then one would shoot a glance at one of her fellow students as well. If I caught her eyes, I could see distrust staring back at me.. Clearly I was not the only one who had been screwed over by a classmate.
I looked at Daniëlle. I didn't want to think about it, but I realized that stealing her nail polish may have gotten Daniëlle into trouble as well. But that was not really my fault, now was it? I had simply done what was asked of me. What they made me do.
At any rate, Daniëlle was not a suspect. She would never do this to me. On the other hand, maybe she noticed I had gone to Tiffany's room and grabbed her chance...
I looked at Alice. Stupid incompetent Alice. I could exclude her as a suspect. The girl could hardly walk in heels, let alone sneak into my room. Then again, who says she didn't take them off...
I looked at Suzy. She was tied to her chair again (though they had left the gag out) and probably spent her day in tied up in bondage. Of course, I had spent much of my time at Miss Margot's in bondage and still managed to sneak out...
My eyes drifted towards Tiffany. No, it was you, wasn't it? You hate me for being a better sissy than you'll ever be. And you had the perfect opportunity while I was out of my room.
“Cheryl, step unto the platform, girl,” Miss D'Ives told me. “Show us your mince.”
I did as I was told, careful to avoid my 'bad habits' as I performed. Miss D'Ives was not wholly satisfied, and had me walk up and down the platform until I got it right.
“Keep your back straight. Straighter! Hands to the side... One foot before the other, like you are walking on a tightrope. Oh, you are hopeless...” She turned to the class. “Girls, what could I do to help Cheryl improve her gait?”
There were some weak suggestions from my classmates. Let her practice with a book. Smaller steps. Sway my hips.
Then Tiffany joined in. “Hit her every time she makes a wrong move,” she said with obvious satisfaction.
Miss D'Ives picked up a crop from her desk, then turned to me. “You hear that, Cheryl? Tiffany thinks I should hit you more. Perhaps she is right. Now, stand at attention. Ready, march!”
My heels clicked as I minced, avoiding any mistakes. But still Miss D'Ives was not satisfied.
Twack! “Sway those hips.” Twack! “Shorter steps.” Twack! “Keep your hands level.” Twack. “eyes front, girl...”
Up and down and round and round the podium I went. I had tears in my eyes and may have been sobbing, but my teacher did not care. She just meticulously watched my posture and punished me for the even the slightest error.
“...Better...” she finally said non-committal. It was the greatest praise I had heard from her all day. “That will do, Cheryl. You may step down and take your seat. Alice? Front and center.”
As I stepped off the platform, my body still locked in the posture and mincing gait I had practised, my eyes crossed with those of Tiffany. I didn't turn my head, or even tilt my eyes, as if I feared another swat of Miss D'Ives crop. Yet, for a split second, my eyes were blazing fire. Oh, if only looks could kill...
Tiffany did not get away scot free, though. I got a modicum of vengeance during voice lessons, where my critical comments earned Tiffany a numbers of cuffs around the ears. During fellatio class I urged our teacher to push the dildo so deep it made her gag.
Apparently that didn't put her in her place, and during Kissing 101 she even dared to suggest that Alice should practice on me! The thought that a boy would have his tongue in my mouth made me feel nauseous. That she was a bad kisser was even worse!
After class were were gathered in the common area. Alice and I were sitting in front of the TV. I wasn't really watching, as on the few channels that were available we only found very girlish cartoons and TV-shows. Most weren't even in English so I couldn't understand them anyway.
If anything, the only reason I was sitting here was to rub it into Tiffany's face that I had TV-privileges and she did not, sitting with Daniëlle at the other end of the room next to a the radio.
Suzy was sitting alone. She had been well-behaved today, no outbursts, and the tutors had removed most of her bonds. Only her wrists were still cuffed in front of her.
I was working on tomorrow's homework assignment. We all had to write an essay on something feminine. I had chosen the title 'Sissies and high heels. A match made in heaven'. I still remembered most of it when I wrote it at Mistress Margot's, which made this task a bit easier.
At some point I heard Daniëlle speak up. “Tiffany? Do you know order of patent leather maintenance.”
“That's... Er... let me think...” was the reply.
“Apply grease, smear it out, then polish,” I interjected.
“She was asking me, Cheryl,” Tiffany said annoyed.
“Well, I suspect she just wanted an answer,” I snapped back.
“A correct answer, most likely,” she countered. “You forgot that it also needs to set. And this only works for shoes anyhow.”
“Hey, girls? I'm trying to watch something,” Alice called out.
“Which is like, 99% of the patent leather we have to maintain,” I told Tiffany, ignoring Alice completely. “When was the last time you wore a leather jacket?”
“Seriously, girls. Take it somewhere else,” Alice tried again.
“How about you take it somewhere else?” Daniëlle said.
“A while,” Tiffany told me, “but my Mistress wears them all the time. Did you forget about your Mistress, sissy?”
“What?” Alice asked Daniëlle.
“I said: how about you take is somewhere else, crybaby!”
“Hey! That was uncalled for!” Alice replied indignantly.
“Oh, I'll never forget my Mistress, wig-girl. She doesn't need cheap leather prove she is dominant.”
“Uncalled for? Me getting disciplined for your mistakes, that was uncalled for,” Daniëlle snapped, referring to the incident at etiquette class.
“Well, you should not have tried to upstage me!”
“My mistress doesn't need millions of bucks to prove her worth.”
“How about you stop being such a screw-up?!”
“Perhaps she needs another sissy instead!”
Things quickly started to escalate. And with escalate I don't mean anything violent. We were all sissies after all.
Instead, we each adopted our most haughty posture, as prideful as was possible for boys trapped in drag. Our hands gestured wildly to underline our words, as if it were a type of sign language. Stamping our heels to express our annoyance. It reminded me of an argument I once witnessed between the popular girls at my old high school, only much girlier.
“Don't go there, girlfriend!”
“Oh no, you didn't!”
Limited in our physical responses, our argument became increasingly verbal. Of course, it's a big no-no for a sissy to use foul language, and we all instinctively avoided anything like the f-word, as otherwise Big Sister would come down on us like a hammer. So we got creative instead.
“Put a gag into it.”
“Go suck a dildo.”
“Oh yeah? Well... you're a double Prissy-pants!”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“Hey Helena Highheels? The doctor called. He's got the brain you ordered!”
I did not know why Big Sister did not put a stop to this. She was probably rolling over the floor, laughing, at this adorable display of animosity.
The situation became more and more chaotic. Me against Tiffany. Daniëlle against Alice. Me and Daniëlle against Tiffany and Alice. Me against Alice. Daniëlle against Tiffany. Tiffany against Alice.
And eventually, in the heat of the moment, even me against Daniëlle.
“If it wasn't for you, my aunt may have never sent me to this dreadful place!” Daniëlle shouted at me.
“I would not have been feminized if it wasn't for you!” I snapped back.
Only Suzy did not involve herself. She tried to say a few consoling words, cool things down, but only got snapped at for her trouble. She was silent for most of the argument.
So everyone was surprised when she started to yell. “Shut up! All of you! Don't be mad at each other, be mad at them. They are the ones who are doing this to us.”
“Why don't you go untwist your panties?” someone shouted at her. Maybe it was me.
“Be quiet! Don't you see? They are trying to turn us against one another. Break us apart before breaking us completely. We need to stay united, tell them to shove it up their...”
A loud beep came from the speaker next to the camera, interrupting Suzy's tantrum. “All students, stand at attention,” the metallic voice said. “This silly fight ends NOW! Be silent and wait for your tutors to escort you back to your rooms.”
I froze in my practised sissy posture. So did the others. Except for Suzy, who faced the camera defiantly. “Go to hell!”
“Be quiet, young lady! You are in enough trouble as it is,” Big Sister said threateningly.
“You cannot treat us like this!” the girl shouted.
Shut up, Suzy, I thought. You are going to get yourself into trouble. Get us all into trouble.
“Young lady, this is your final warning!” Big Sister snarled.
Suzy turned towards us. “Come on you guys! we don't have to take this from them! Fight back!”
Daniëlle looked at her hesitantly. Alice gave her a confused glance. Otherwise, nobody moved, remaining in her sissy-stance.
“Come on!” Suzy tried again.
Again nothing. “Suzy... you'll get us into trouble,” a voice spoke. It was mine. “For your sake and ours, please be quiet.”
Suzy snarled, then with her bound hands grabbed the nearest item, a stuffed animal, and threw it at the camera. It did not even come close, but I was shocked at this brazen act of defiance.
Then the doors burst open, and our tutors stormed in. Before she knew what was happening, several had swarmed Suzy and were dragging her off towards her room, kicking and screaming.
“Everyone, eyes front!” shouted one of the tutors. And standing at attention, frozen in place, we waited. Finally, the other tutors returned. Finished with whatever they did with Suzy, they escorted us one after the other back towards our rooms.
I feared I would receive another spanking, but the ogre simply told me I would remain in my room for the rest of the evening. She even brought me my homework that I had left in the common area.
The next day the headmistress awaited us in the classroom. Suzy was already there, bound and gagged more securely than ever before.
“Greetings class. I heard about the disturbance yesterday, and I wanted to tell you that I had a long talk with Suzy here.” She patted the girl on the head, causing her to murmur something. “She wanted me to let you know that she is very sorry for causing the argument and letting it escalate.”
Well, she should be, I thought. No-good troublemaker...
“However, I'm very proud that the rest of you did not follow Suzy in her little tantrum and remained perfectly behaved. As such, I'm happy to award each of you a merit. Keep up the good work, girls!”
“Thank you, Headmistress,” we merrily said in unison.