Page 40 of Punished and Trained
I felt my own breathing quicken as I imagined sweet, fragile Reb bound and helpless. Around me, the other students were equally transfixed, their own bodies responding to her words.
“My Guardian didn’t wait,” Reb continued, her voice growing stronger even as tears continued to fall. “He made me ask for his… his hardness… and then he just… he took me immediately. Over and over. And when he was done, his Mistress used her fingers and her mouth on me until I screamed.”
The confession was pouring out of her now, as if a dam had burst. “They… I guess they asked permission, but they didn’t prepare me gently. They just… used me. All night. I lost count of how many times they made me come.”
Her hips were moving more deliberately now, riding the saddle as the memories overwhelmed her. “But the worst part,” she gasped, “the most shameful part… was that I needed it. I needed them to take control completely, to not give me any choice at all. When they finally untied me this morning, I felt… empty.”
The raw honesty in her voice sent a shiver through all of us. Even Mistress Orela seemed momentarily affected by the girl’s vulnerability.
“Thank you for your honesty, Miss Reb,” she said softly. “Your Guardian couple understood exactly what you required. Sometimes the gentlest souls need the firmest guidance.”
She turned to Morandra, whose scholarly composure had completely crumbled during Reb’s confession. “Miss Morandra, please share your experience.”
The dark-skinned woman straightened slightly, trying to regain some of her professorial dignity even as the thick shaft kept her spread and visibly, shamefully controlled. Her hands gripped the leather edges of her saddle, knuckles straining as she fought to maintain composure.
“My Guardian and Mistress took a very different approach,” Morandra began, her cultured voice trembling slightly. “They were… patient. Gentle. They spent more than an hour simply talking to me, asking me questions about my desires, my fears.”
She paused, her breathing becoming more labored as she shifted against the artificial intrusion. “They made me admit things I’d never said aloud. Made me confess that I wanted to be mastered, that all my academic achievements were just… just ways of avoiding what I really needed.”
Her hips began moving in small, involuntary circles as the memories took hold. “When I finally broke down and begged them to take control, my Guardian held me down on their bed while his Mistress… oh, powers… she used her mouth on me for what felt like hours. I came so many times I lost count.”
Morandra’s scholarly composure cracked entirely as she continued. “Then they switched positions. She held me down while he… first my cunny, so slow and deep, making me look intohis eyes while he claimed me. Then he took my… my bottom. And I thanked them for it. I actually thanked them.”
Mistress Orela nodded approvingly before turning to Trellama, whose red hair seemed to flame in the classroom light as she gripped her saddle with slender fingers.
“My Guardian,” Trellama began in a rush, as if the words might hurt less if spoken quickly, “he said I needed to learn proper worship. Mistress made me kneel beside their bed for hours, teaching me how to use my mouth on his… on his manhood. Every technique, every way to please him.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He was so patient, so thorough. By the end of the night, I could take all of him down my throat without gagging. And when I finally pleased him completely, he let me… he let me swallow everything.”
Palla’s turn came next, and her face had gone scarlet before she even began speaking. “They made me wash them,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Both of them. Everywhere. Especially their… their most private places.”
She was openly grinding against her saddle now, shame and arousal warring in her expression. “Then my Mistress made me lick them there while they pleasured themselves. I had to… to use my tongue on both their anuses while they watched each other climax. And I… I got so wet doing it that they laughed at me.”
Finally, Mistress Orela’s gaze fell on Lara, who had remained silent throughout the confessions, her blue eyes wide with sympathetic tears for her new friends’ degradation.
“Miss Lara,” the teacher said softly, “as our Euporian student, I’m particularly interested in your experience.”
Lara’s face crumpled with shame as she began to speak, her voice thick with tears. “My Guardian said… he said that because I’m Euporian, I should have the same experience as a younger girl from the Girls’ Academy. Someone completely innocent who had never been touched.”
She was trembling now, her blonde hair falling forward to partially hide her flushed cheeks. “When I objected, when I told him I wasn’t a virgin, he became very stern. He put me over his knee and spanked me while… while Mistress stood in front of me and I had to lick her cunny.”
A soft whimper escaped her lips as she continued. “The spanking was so hard, and she was grinding against my face, and I was crying, but also… also getting so wet. Then he carried me to their bed and positioned me on my back, legs spread wide.”
Lara’s hips began moving against her saddle as the memory overwhelmed her. “He looked into my eyes the whole time. Said he was going to deflower me properly, the way it should have happened when I was eighteen. He was so gentle at first, pressing into me slowly, telling me I was his innocent little girl.”
Her breathing became ragged as she relived the experience. “But then… then he started moving faster, deeper, never breaking eye contact. And I came… I came over and over, looking right into his eyes, feeling like he was claiming something that had never belonged to anyone else.”
Tears streamed down her face as she finished. “He made me feel like a virgin again, like I was being properly initiated into womanhood for the first time. And the worst part is… I loved it. I loved feeling that innocent and powerless.”
Mistress Orela nodded with evident satisfaction as she surveyed us all, impaled and trembling on our obscene saddles. “Excellent confessions, ladies. Now you understand how your bodies respond to the memories of proper submission, and thus how your minds can deepen your connection with your bodies’ needs. But we’re not finished with today’s lesson.”
She moved to a control panel I hadn’t noticed before, mounted discreetly on the wall beside her desk. Her fingers danced across several switches, and suddenly the saddles beneath us began to vibrate with startling intensity.
I cried out in shock as the artificial shaft inside me came alive, sending waves of sensation through my core that made my vision blur. Around me, my classmates made similar sounds of distress and unwelcome pleasure as their own devices activated simultaneously.
“The vibration will continue until you all reach climax together,” Mistress Orela announced calmly, as if discussing the weather rather than orchestrating our collective degradation. “You will look at each other as you ride these devices. Think about what you’ve just heard—think about how each of your classmates surrendered to their Guardians and Mistresses.”
The vibrations intensified, and I found myself gripping the leather edges of my saddle desperately as waves of forced pleasure crashed through me. My eyes met Palla’s across the room, and I saw my own mortification reflected in her flushed face as she ground helplessly against her vibrating device.
