The cool of the autumn afternoon was not enough to take away the heat of nervousness Abigail felt throughout her entire twenty-four-year-old body. The first-year teacher had only been at Hatley on Kent for six months. Since training and orientation last Spring, she had easily acclimated to the all-boys school. As one of the only literary teachers, she had also become quite a favorite of the student body. Standing a fit 5‘4“, the redhead from Scotland had flowing curly locks down to her shoulder blades. Done up in an attractive messy bun, today her hair felt like the perfect complement to her long neck, which was currently covered in small beads of sweat. At this exact moment, one was running down her light-skinned B-cup cleavage displayed respectfully in her standard white blouse and green school jumper.

She had been summoned to Headmistress Marta Swan's office by Carson, the Headmistress' personal secretary. The sixty-something stoic man had delivered the note as she was heading to her rooms. It simply read, "Headmistress' office, five pm."

Ever punctual, Abigail sat in a high back chair opposite the Headmistress' desk, the clock on the wall behind ticking away a precise four fifty-one. She was sitting in a straight-back position at the chair's edge, her green eyes wide with concern, her lovely bust displayed with confidence; a temperament not shared with the young woman's psyche. Why was she here? Was she being sacked? Had there been a complaint? Or worse, an allegation?

As she glanced out the high arched windows onto the autumn-colored grounds she felt a welcome chill run down her spine. It was both cooling and concerning. She suddenly wished she had a glass of water. It was in this moment of apprehension that the door to her left opened and in walked Marta Swan, her head bowed as she read a paper file. The fifty-three-year-old educator cut a formidable swath. At nearly six foot she already towered over the majority of the staff and student body. Add on her customary three-inch black boots and she was the epitome of practiced intimidation. Abigail could not help but admire her. She sprung to her feet as her boss sat in her own chair.

"Oh, do sit, Ferguson. I appreciate the respectful yet unwarranted gesture." Abigail obeyed and sat again suddenly unsure of what to do with her sweaty hands. Headmistress looked up for a moment and Abigail thought she saw the makings of a smile.

"I imagine you are wondering why I have asked you here. Let me settle any fears; you are not in trouble."

A visible sigh washed over the young woman, and she blushed slightly. 'Charmingly delightful,' the Headmistress thought.

"That is quite a relief to hear, Ma'rm."

"Yes, quite. And in case you were wondering this is your personnel file. I loathe those tablets! There is something so noble about paper, don't you agree?"

"Indeed, Headmistress."

"I am specifically looking at your aptitude and personality battery you filled out last spring. Do you recall?"

"Aye, Ma'rm. I do," Abigail responded in her lilting Scottish brogue.

"Say, 'Yes,' please, Ferguson. We are in England, are we not?"

"Yes, Headmistress, my apologies." She blushed again and looked down for a moment. She had never been called out for her colloquial affect before. Again, Marta Swan noted the reaction, 'Perfect,' she thought.

"You scored highly in all categories, especially compliance, service, and discipline. It is with those in mind, I have summoned you. Take a look at these paneled walls, Ferguson. You see these portraits of staff gone by? Hatley has a storied history." She gestured to the dozens of framed photos and Abigail followed with her eyes. Headmistress stood and crossed toward a group of portraits. "These are the head-masters who were my predecessors. I stress masters, as I am the first headmistress of this institution. As a woman, I am sure you can appreciate the challenges that might bring."

Abigail hesitated unsure if she should respond. As she made to, the Headmistress went on. "In fact, I was the first female on staff who was not a cook of a domestic. Paving the way for the likes of you and you five female peers. I am proud of that legacy."

She paused long enough for Abigail to respond. "As you should be, Ma'rm." Headmistress Swan turned away from the wall and smiled dryly at the young woman. There was a bit of a fire in her eyes that Abigail found strangely alluring.

Marta Swan was now speaking in lower tones of gravitas usually saved for speeches at commencements. "As women, we have expectations that far exceed our masculine colleagues. We are expected to outperform ridiculous limitations set on us by a society that continually underestimates us. And overcoming that dichotomy, Ferguson, takes discipline! Something I believe you are familiar with."

Headmistress was now at a tall stately wooden cupboard. "Inside these doors are artifacts of a legacy of loyalty and discipline that I have accrued during my tenure." She stepped away and Abigail saw she was gripping a long paddle shaped like a cricket bat. It was golden brown with gold embossed letters that read "Staff Only." A leather strap attached to the handle was being wound around her wrist.

'How curious' thought Abigail, unaware that her life was about to change forever. Her sweaty palms and neck were now accompanied by a strange tension in her stomach. It was a mix of apprehension and a strange excitement.

"Do you know what this is, Abigail?"

"I believe so, yes. My Da told tales of his unruly youth on Shetland and the frequent use of a paddle." She was smiling slightly at the folksy memory.

Headmistress was magically behind her now. The young woman's focus on her body's reactions and the thoughts of spankings had caused her to miss the older woman's approach.

"I need you to stand please." Abigail turned in surprise at the sudden voice behind her. Headmistress was occupying her entire field of vision. Her deep brown eyes and dirty blonde hair were not enough to distract Abigail from noticing that her boss' blouse had been unbuttoned some, revealing a lacy black bustier and a stunning set of DD breasts.

Did she just think her boss' breasts were stunning? What the devil was- ?

"Stand. NOW!"

Abigail bolted up ram straight, her legs shaking slightly inside her dress trousers, the tingle in her stomach now shooting up her torso and inflating her pink nipples. Her hands remained at her hips, fingers twitching. She was breathing quickly, unsure what was happening, or why she had complied so rapidly.

"Well done. I had thought your discipline and compliance scores would have garnered a quicker obedience but there is still time to improve. Do you wish to?"

"Headmistress?"

"Improve in your obedience? In your... service to this school? To me?"

Abigail's heart was challenging Usain Bolt. Her ears were ringing softly, and she desperately needed that glass of water. "Erm... I suppose. Yes."

"You either do or you do not. There is no 'suppose." There was a sudden whoosh of air and the "thwack!" of wood on body as Headmistress Swan delivered a slapping blow with the staff paddle to Abigail's left buttock. The young teacher faltered as expected and cried out at the shocking pain.

"AHHH! Ma'rm what are you - ?" She never finished the question as another whoosh announced a second blow landing right for balance. Another cry came out as tears welled in her wide-open green eyes.

"Do. you. wish. to. improve?!" The stern question was delivered just inches from Abigail's right ear and was accompanied by the pressure of the paddle on her crack. The promise of more blows clearly being spoken.

Miss Ferguson's mind was reeling. The spankings, the lecture, and the pain and confusion both brought were spinning around inside. They danced with a growing arousal Abigail was shocked to be relishing. The hardness of her nipples was now partnered with a heat in her knickers that undoubtedly had a considerable moist component. Her arse cheeks burned with a sting that she found oddly enticing.

And above all of that conflagration was a desire: a desire to want to not only obey but to please. She took a deep breath, stood tall again, her hands somehow finding a natural position of laying on the small of her back.

"Yes, Headmistress," her voice shook slightly. "I wish to learn and serve."

The voice of command was direct, unemotional, and triumphant. "Lower your trousers."

Abigail turned her head in shock and was met with Headmistress' hand roughly pushing her chin back forward. "Now!"

Abigail rapidly slipped off her shoes and undid her zip. Her brown casual trousers were soon in her hand. She folded them in half and placed them on the chair. The air in the room did little to cool off the heat on her thighs and her recently abused cheeks. Yet she stood in her green thong, back stiff again ready for whatever came next. She did not expect a gentle squeeze and caress on her exposed cheeks. Mistress' slender and firm fingers caused Abigail to gasp in pleasure, her head slightly dropping. It was short-lived as three more blows landed. She held as still as possible, waiting for number four. After all, Headmistress had been even up to now.

"Excellent. Abigail."

"Thank you, Headmistress. I want to do well."

"Good. And it is 'thank you Mistress', for here on."

Abigail nodded, her breathing still rapid, her body trying to oxygenate her stinging flesh and calm her excitement. And when did she become just 'Abigail?'

The fourth anticipated spank finally arrived, and this time Abigail hissed a wince and followed it with a low moan. Mistress moaned herself in approval. All was going to plan.

"These blows are necessary to show you who is in charge, of course, but also to show you what pleasure is possible when you fully comply." She was walking around the front of Abigail and was sliding a finger around the young woman's left hip. Headmistress bent her head slightly, her thin yet attractive lips were inches away and Abigail desperately wanted to feel them on her own. Instead, she felt a shiver run through her as Mistress ran the same fingers across the moist gusset of her thong.

"Mmm, already lubricating in arousal. You are performing beyond expectation." Abigail was going to whisper a 'thank you,' but the desired kiss stopped her. Mistress Marta's mouth was firm, and wet and warm. Her tongue drove into the younger mouth and was soon met in likeness. Abigail's eyes closed and she groaned in pleasure, the firm fingers on her labia pushing fabric between. She was shockingly close to orgasm when Mistress easily tore the flimsy lace fabric away and Abigail winged slightly at the dig of it in her hips. The hand of discipline held up the shredded undergarment to Mistress' nose and she sniffed in satisfaction.

"Jumper, blouse, chair."

She stepped back and Abigail was soon pulling off one and in record time unbuttoning the other. She was now folding the two mentioned garments in a pile on top of her trousers. Why did she accept being near naked so easily?

Her white and pink flesh was flush with heat and arousal, beads of sweat covering her from thigh to forehead. She was feeling a mesmerizing arousal that was liberating in its boldness and nuance. Was this why she scored so high in service and compliance? Was she always a submissive and just never had anyone bring it out?

Now in just her green push-up, (she liked the way her smaller firm titties looked in these styles of bra, and the looks from some of the older boys secretly titillated her) she was back to standing at attention, her pussy now positively swamp-like.

"You are a wondrous addition to our legacy here my pet." She ran her other hand up Abigail's back and across her neckline. "I am proud of you; you are ready for the next step. Take hold of my desk and spread your feet shoulder width." There was no need for repeating orders. Abigail Ferguson's immediate action was a sign that she was not just willing but actually sexually agitated. Her hands now on Mistress' desk her firm breasts and aroused points were hanging like enticing fruit. She looked down in wonder at her total nakedness only to see her green bra land behind her. Mistress had removed it so deftly it went unnoticed. She was skilled and sexy as fuck, Abigail thought as she moaned in delight.

"Prepare!" Four more loving and well-deserved blows landed on reddening cheeks. With each a warmth that was painfully comforting was spreading throughout the young woman's core. There was no longer any differential between pleasure and pain. She wanted both in equal measure. So much so that an orgasm was building within that core ready for eruption. Unfortunately, Mistress stopped the spanks before it could release. Abigail's head hung in frustration; her skin alight with anticipation.

Mistress Marta was holding something gold-colored in her hands. The paddle now lay on the desk in front of the displayed young teacher, and she longed for it to complete her cuntal corruption. Instead, long fingers circled her left breast and made a concentric journey to her prominent areola. She shuddered, her cum so fucking close. The pleasure was intense but so was the sharp pain that arrived a millisecond later. Abigail screamed this time, this new pain more intense in its sharpness. She looked down and saw a toothy clamp on her bud attached to a gold chain still in Mistress' clutched hand.

"This is how we at Hatley mark our serving staff. This chain and its clamps," the plural making itself known in the application to the right nipple, "represent your new role. And this..." In front of the new servant's tearing eyes, she held a gold badge with the school's crest emblazoned below the words, 'Property of...' "informs you to whom you belong." Mistress hooked it onto the chain at its center and the tug caused Abigail's tortured teats to distend at the weight.

"Ahhh! Oh, Mistress... Psssh it hurts so!" She was thankful for the desk as her knuckles turned whiter as she tried to dissipate the pain. Her breaths were hissy as she gained control yet was soon pulled upright by a tug of her red locks. Her head now facing the ceiling allowed for open access to her neck. Mistress' tongue and lips lathered it profusely.

"You are a perfect specimen, pet. Scrumptious!" A bite on her earlobe and a welcome finger flick to her fanny was the trigger that set off the powder keg. Abigail's body wracked with the charge of the most intense orgasm of her young life.

"OHHH MISTRESS!"

Abigail Jean Ferguson had had many climaxes: by herself and with her only serious boyfriend to date, her ex, Daniel. None of those, especially the ones during hetero fucking, were even a fraction of the pleasurable explosion shaking her. Her position failed as she almost collapsed in bliss. It was everywhere at once, awesome in breadth and uncontrollable in its reach. She was breathing raggedly, nearly blacked out when the sting of her lovely paddle partner slapped her between the lags, sending a shocking sear through her loins up into her vaginal tunnel. It quelled the cum but also made her add another pain pleasure to her growing list of new delights.

"That was a necessary halt. The first one can be overwhelming, and I do need you to stay alert and aroused. I promise you more and better should you continue to honor the badge on your chest." A slap across her left breast stung sweetly. "And that is for speaking out of turn."

Abigail breathily apologized, "I am ssss...sorry Mistress. I will not - " she was cut off by another equally aggressive slap to her right breast. She stood still and stifled a cry out, a tear running down her cheek.

"No, you will not, I am certain. You are exceptional. my pet." Mistress was now back at her desk and was using an interoffice com like from an old Telly program about an office. There was a buzz. In her recovering state, Abigail was unsure if it was in her mind or real.

"She is ready. Take her things to the changing room for after." Mistress looked at her new recruit, a pride in her face that was bordering on emotional. She breathed in to regain control and chastised herself. 'Mustn't get attached, Marta. You have responsibilities!' Still...

Abigail was back at attention, her hands clasped behind her, the ache in her nipples now a welcome constant. Her still quivering sex was almost burning with desire for more of Mistress' ministrations. She had actually enjoyed the slap on her vulva. She was fast becoming unrecognizable to her own self. It was a blissful liberation. She panicked, however when the door to the office opened and in stepped a nonchalant Carson. Abigail instinctively went for her clothing and a familiar tone stopped her.

"NO! You shall remain thus, my pet," She did so. Mistress was now next to her again, loving the fleeting waves of fear on this lovely young thing. She leaned in and gave the redhead a reassuring kiss and whispered, "Obey and be rewarded." She then grasped the badge between the breasts and pulled her charge forward.

Abigail stumbled slightly at the sudden yank and yelped out in surprise. She trotted after her new Mistress and past the leering older man. She dared not look up from sheer humiliation and was shocked to receive a slap on her left buttock.

"Later, Carson!" Mistress scolded without stopping her stride out the back door to her rooms. Abigail followed, naked but for her new beautiful jewelry leading her. The door behind closed as the older male dejectedly mumbled, "Yes Ma'rm."

A short corridor ended at a door with stairs leading down. The walls were old stone like the rest of the building but more roughhewn. The temperature lowered with descent and Abigail's heated desire was starting to wane. Her bare feet were tingling with potential numbness. At the bottom, a large wooden door stood, two old-style sconces on either side alight with artificial flame. Mistress dropped the badge and Abigail winced once again. Now loving the feeling.

"Behind this door is your new life," Mistress said with the sternness of welcomed control. "You will find challenge and pleasure beyond your imaginings. You will soon learn the meaning of service. Come." She opened the door and once again grabbed the badge; Abigail's aching teats led her through the large entry.

What Abigail saw took her breath. The room was square in shape, a large stone cube. Around the walls were more electric flame lights and hooks and rings embedded in the old stone. Placed about were apparatus and equipment for all sorts of imaginable restraint and binding. And even some she could never have. And they were occupied by every female staff member engaged in some form of sex act.

In front of her, Carina the Caribbean chambermaid was on all fours, her hands and claves shackled to the floor. She had the same god chain and badge causing her cone-shaped black breasts to distend toward the floor. She was currently in the throes of rapture as Mrs. Bloom the house cook was behind, her mouth ravishing the younger woman's helpless full bodied arse cheeks and pussy. The older white woman was clad in bright green stay ups and matching heels.

Abigail heard a familiar voice cry out and turned to see her best friend at Hatley, Dorene who taught Maths. The leggy athletic and busty thirty-year-old was strapped to a large cross in an X shape. She was being flogged by a surprisingly fit Professor Fike. The forty-something sciences teacher was slicing the air with her tool and placing hard-earned stripes up and down Dorene's thighs and ass. She must have been enjoying the pain as her inner legs were a damp mess with her feminine excretions. She was counting out each blow and was on nineteen. Abigail wondered how many more she would endure and secretly wished she could trade spots.

Next was a sight that made Abigail gasp and cover her mouth. The youngest staff member, the gardener's assistant and daughter, Shelly, was no older than nineteen. Her nubile form was on her knees, her badge swinging in front of her lovely C-cup teen titties. She was currently giving apparently exquisite oral pleasure to the Vicar from up the road. The white-haired woman was in a leather chair, her full-bodied legs spread on the arms, her spotted fingers in the brunette's tangled locks. She wore nothing but her clerical collar and a look of pure ecstasy! "Bless you, child. The Lord hath gifted you great TALENT!" She shook with orgasm and held Shelly's head so tight to her quim that Abigail feared the girl may lose her breath. The perversion of it made her pussy shudder anew.

She closed her eyes in an attempt to stave off another climax and when she opened her view was filled with a stunning sight. Mistress was there and had changed, or rather had stripped. She was now only in the black bustier Abigail had spied earlier. Her gorgeous succulent breasts spilled out the top and Abigail longed to have her mouth on them. Her long legs wore boots and strap-supported black fishnets.

The young Scot's head spun. What was happening to her? She had desires and wants never before - AH! the familiar tit yank.

"Focus, pet. What do you think? You may respond."

"It is... wondrous to behold, Ma'r- Mistress! I am so...aroused. I do not understand."

A soft chuckle was next to Abigail's ear. "You will. Walk forward."

As the new sex pet followed orders she saw the school librarian, Mrs. Thorn standing in front of a woman suspended by ropes from the ceiling. It was Chelsea, the young squat history teacher. She was wrapped in a way that held her aloft while allowing for her backside to be easily accessed. Mrs. Thorn was wearing a strap-on penis harness and was rapidly thrusting into the wet rectum of the helpless chubby girl. Chelsea would probably have been shouting in joy had she not been gagged by a leather strap and green ball. Mrs. Thorn was loving holding the ropes and pulling her fuck partner onto her faux phallus. "Yes, take it, you tart. Take my hard cock!"

The young redhead wanted to stand and watch but a familiar tug pulled her forward.

They were now at a raised bench of sorts with hooks at each corner. "Lay back, pet." Abigail complied and Mistress deftly took her ankles and strapped them to her thighs and the bench, rendering Abigail fully splayed and fully on fire. Her hands were grasped by another party, nails digging into her wrists.

She looked up and saw Barbara, the other Lit professor and her ofttimes bully. Dorene had once said, "She's just a jealous cow, Abbie, let it roll off." At this instant said cow was fastening Abigail's forearms to another set of straps, a look of cruel triumph on her face.

"Hello little Fergie!" the black-haired scrunch face sneered.

"SLAVE, behave!" Mistress shouted over the sounds of sex and slapping. The reaction was instantaneous as Barbara stood still, head down, fear aflame on her reddening face.

"Yes, Mistress." Abigail was somewhat humored by her nemesis and saw that she was not wearing a nipple chain and badge,

"This one has been problematic and a bother during her training. Until she can learn veritable obedience, she will be a slave rather than a pet. No orgasms yet no quarter. COME! "

Barbara skirted around the bench and a necklace came into view with a charm that simply read, "Unworthy" bouncing on her naked DD breasts. She held the side of the bench and extended her ass. Mistress had retrieved a flogger from a wall rack and proceeded to give the brat twelve lashes.

After each, the teary-eyed teacher said loudly, "Thank you, Mistress!" Abigail was convinced she was truly grateful as the scrunch face now showed arousal and pleasure. Just when she appeared near relief Mistress stopped and Barbara groaned in frustration.

"Return," Mistress ordered. The short woman took her spot at Abigail's head. Her own bowed with sweat, tears, and a little drool comingling on her chest.

Mistress leaned forward and whilst taking the nipple clamps in hand she twisted increasing the pain. As Abigail arched and cried out, Mistress grabbed her jaw and met her open mouth with her own and the two kissed again with passion. She released her new pet and Abigail said between breaths, "Thank... you... Mistresss!"

Her mind was porridge. She no longer knew the day or time. She no longer recalled her name, she was only "pet." All that mattered was the pleasure and the pain... and pleasing.

Mistress held out a hand and Barbara handed her a purple penis-shaped vibrator. Mistress activated it and set it on Abigail's clitoris. The shock was all-consuming and had her arching, her hips trying to ungulate but had to only flex due to restraint. There was a massive orgasm on her horizon. She looked up with pleading eyes and saw her beautiful caretaker smiling in pride.

"You may... cum."

It was a matter-of-fact allowance that brought other worldly results. As the captured body began to shake the device slid into her hot cavern and buzzed at maximum strength. The wave blew out of her middle like a boulder dropped in a pond. Every nerve in her body was blazing. Every pore was opened. Her muscles contracted and pulsed. Her cunt clamped hard on the device and Mistress feared it may become a projectile. It rollercoastered through her and splashed down in a sea of stars and sparkles like mid-summer fireworks. This time, she did pass out.

As her eyes were struggling to open and her body was attempting recovery a small drop of liquid landed on her nose. It caused her to become fully aware and she breathed in. Mistress' luscious vulva was just above her face. Its aroused musk sank into her senses like a London fog. She was breathing heavily again and was suddenly desperate to taste another woman for the first time in years. This time a real woman, not a fellow naughty school mate. There were wisps of dark hair just above the aroused clitoral hood near her nose and the labia were open in a classic kite shape. It looked lusciously savory.

As this gift of womanly beauty lowered to her waiting and wanting mouth, Mistress moaned, "Welcome to the real Hatley school, pet." As Abigail nodded under this woman her lips devoured every inch she could. It was a revelation. She would never want anything this much. Soon Mistress Marta's perineum and anus were being hungrily lapped up by a woman who an hour ago had never even imagined submission let alone craved it.

Mistress held onto Abigail's hair, holding her head steady as she ground away, her own orgasm nearby.

She tossed her head back in self-satisfaction. This one had succumbed faster than any on record. She would have to thank her mate at the agency for sending her along. In an hour or so that friend was due to arrive and would be able to sample the fruits of Marta's efforts. Oh, they were going to enjoy this one.

"Well... fuck... well done - ngh! Pet! Fuuuck!"

The older woman's orgasm exploded! Juices flowed over Abigail as she mumbled, "Thn ou muthreh!" Contentment and pride also washed over her as the buzz in her pussy pushed her toward another tsunami.

Slap! Slap! The familiar sting of hand on flesh rang out as Mistress reached back and struck Abigail's upper thighs. It was the greatest thing she had ever felt.

"Not yet! I have something special planned."

Abigail groaned in anticipation. She was ready. She was wanting. She was home.