Author's note: I don't actually do seasonally themed stories because I'd probably miss the deadline by months. That said this naughty tail (deliberate spelling) does have one of our young characters visiting Santa in his home town of Rovaniemi over Christmas.

A second point I'd like to raise is a big Thank-you to my editor Sgt. Steve who manages to catch almost all of my bloopers making these unlikely stories more readable. Editors are the unsung heros of publishing in all it's formats. The remaining errors are all mine alone.

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N.B. Spellings (when correct) are in UK English. All the characters in this story are fictitious, any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities detailed in this story, some of which may be illegal in certain jurisdictions. I'm adding (for legal reasons) that apparently if you're under-age you mustn't read this, so if that's the case go away and grow up.

Chapter 01: An introduction

The Institute could hardly be described as an ordinary educational establishment, though only a very limited number of people were even aware of its existence.

Those select individuals had two things in common, firstly they were unbelievably wealthy, and secondly they had a predilection for obedient young ladies having a well-rounded education covering a range of subjects missing from the ordinary modern-day curriculum.

Set in its own extensive grounds the grandiose main building had once been the home of some noble dynasty, the modest nearby village nowadays in thrall to the current owners, and therefore keepers of its more recent secrets because their livelihoods depended upon the largesse of their grand neighbours. In many ways it reflected the situation generations ago betwixt their own forebears and the aristocracy who would've lived in the 'big-house'. Various newer buildings provided all the bespoke accommodations for classrooms aside from the multiplicity of other facilities needed for their elite pupils who ranged from nine through to eighteen.

Pupils starting at nine years old would attend through all nine grades labelled one through

to nine, although that was immaterial because The Institute took pupils from a worldwide clientèle, therefore their own Grade system wouldn't match any other country in particular.

In consideration of their wealthy patrons’ new pupils would be accepted anywhere within the relevant age-range although that might entail older girls being demoted into a lower Grade simply in order to become accustomed to a regime that would be totally outside of and alien to their previous experience.

In keeping with its exclusivity they maintained a high staff to pupil ratio, thus small class sizes ensured constant personal attention. Each Grade had somewhere between twelve to twenty students split between two classes who were encouraged to be competitive against their rival Grade group. This meant although the overall student body could be anywhere between 108 to 180, they averaged out at around 140. With such a vast varied curriculum to learn they disdained many other normal conventions because the school remained open throughout the year without regard for the divide between terms commonplace elsewhere.

The country and location of The Institute was immaterial to those with the wherewithal to cover the expenses of any pupil, needless to say local officials and authority figures were handsomely paid to forget its very existence, except in one respect...

There was an interesting divide amongst the pupils, although a goodly number were the sponsored wards of certain individuals, the remainder were girls carefully selected from state run orphanages across several neighbouring countries, or the youngest of juvenile delinquents entering corrupt regional penal systems where under the correct conditions these beautiful girls along with their paperwork would simply disappear without question.

Those sponsored girls were usually the wards of their particular guardians rather than actual blood relatives, although The Institute operating in murky waters anyway never chose to ask unnecessary questions which might cause offence. Infrequently girls would remain throughout the entire length of their education, although numerous students were collected for regular 'home' visits or trips to holiday locations, whereas other girls had their benefactors simply arrive for 'social visits' several times during the year.

For those un-sponsored girls having joined the student body through less conventional means, their education though very harsh had advantages above their previous situations.

There was security in knowing they would eat regularly, besides which their meals were the finest worldwide cuisine, their clothing was always newly tailored and comfortable, plus their living accommodations were heated all winter and cooled during the height of summer. Their greatest single endeavour once they understood their position was to snag themselves a sponsor whenever the opportunity arose to meet one of those gentlemen guests visiting The Institute.

Scholastic achievements were considered paramount, and having nine Grades meant there were eighteen classes overall being held at any one time, but because the lessons ranged from accountancy and deportment through to zoology and numerous subjects in between, even those found in normal school environments. Therefore they needed approximately forty-odd teaching staff aside from all those more casual instructors who attended maybe once or twice a week to fulfill any special requirements made by particular sponsors.

Aside from teachers there were administrators, housekeeping, and the kitchen staff, just as might be seen in any five-star resort hotel complex. Being a permanently open boarding school meant the addition of two Matrons for general welfare, plus one full-time nurse and a doctor who resided in the nearby village which was a welcome bonus for those locals.

The establishment with a rambling mixture of old and modern buildings had maintenance staff and gardeners, this swollen crew meant a staff canteen plus further accommodation units because almost everyone lived somewhere within the expansive estate.

Stanislav mostly worked within the main building, in other circumstances people might label him the janitor, maybe even senior janitor because three other maintenance guys reported to him regarding their duties. In reality he performed little actual work on the main house itself, as his primary tasks lay elsewhere. On those occasions when he went to check or advise on the work his colleagues were doing about the place the girls he passed would nod politely or perhaps even curtsy. Anybody unaware of his role might find that surprising though of course anyone allowed within the hallowed halls was likely to know about his position anyway.

He considered himself unremarkable, at thirty-two years old he was fit and healthy having served a short spell in the military, while his family being involved in construction gave him a wide-ranging knowledge of the building trade, such as maintaining fine historic buildings. The basement was only partially below ground, mostly having high level windows like the well-appointed kitchens, laundry and store rooms which consumed three-quarters of the original floor-plan. Stanislav had his own office, workroom, and nice accommodation suite in this semi subterranean area, although he spent many hours in a central basement area that lacked access to external windows.

The majority of visitors to this area thought of it as 'the dungeon' but to the teaching staff it was known as the punishment room. The highly paid teachers maintained discipline in their classes as mandated in their employment contracts, but spending a disproportionate amount of time in dishing-out corporal punishments would disrupt their lessons, therefore they issued yellow chits for any type of infraction. Tardiness, slovenliness, incorrect attire, inattentiveness, late homework, poor attitude, or bad grades were just an example of the reasons some poor girl might find herself the recipient of a dreaded yellow chit.

Written on that said paper would be the issuing staff member, the recipient's name, then the nature of the offence in question. There might be some additional comments, even suggestions regarding the severity of a punishment, but basically it was down to Stanislav to figure out the best course of attitude correction. His most time-consuming task was to discipline the student body, or more bluntly around one hundred and forty bodies, some being more frequent visitors than others!

Chapter 02

Learning about The Institute through the eyes of a new student.

For staff and pupils alike daily life was regimented and prescribed, everything expected to run to a timetable. A modern two story cruciform shaped building held the dormitories on the ground floor for first to fourth year pupils each having their own wing with a matching arrangement for years five through to eight on the second level. A central wall divided the end of each wing having a ten bed dormitory to either side which would constitute all the girls of one particular Grade. Moving towards the hub on one side would be the common bathrooms for that Grade group, on the other their shared lounge. To move outside their allotted area into the central hub meant passing the Master's room who was responsible for maintaining order in that particular dormitory.

Becoming the Dorm Master for any particular Grade was a rotating task shared between the teaching staff spending one calendar month as duty Master, then returning to their own personal quarters until their next stint usually with a different Grade group in order that the girls experienced a variety of regimes. Adapting to changes was considered just another means of personal development for their students.

For the first Grade that consisted of girls between nine and ten years old dependent upon the month of their birth, The Institute proved a massive shock. Their initial introduction to the system permitted some license while they adjusted to their unaccustomed situation, as generally their disciplinary measures were more lenient. Mostly their scholastic related punishments were handled in the classroom, while other offences of note were dealt with by whoever held the current post of Dorm Master. First Grade disciplinary measures were usually limited to hand spankings, though a continuing streak of poor behaviour could land them with the threat of being sent downstairs...

Aside from the overall Institute rules which every girl was expected to learn off by heart, there were also Grade level rules which would become ever stricter as they rose in Grade through the establishment. Dress code was paramount, the correct attire for whatever the activity, shoes shining, ties straight etc, etc, but the variety of sports did allow for the fact the girls could become muddied and in disarray. Deportment and good manners dictated how they were meant to conduct themselves at all times, addressing all their betters with the correct honorific, while also learning to be polite to persons below them as well.

Introduced to an Archduke or Admiral they were taught the proper form, because it was highly probable their sponsors/guardians would move in exulted social circles, therefore it was included in their education. Aside from four short breaks spaced throughout the year school work was conducted five days a week, while many extracurricular activities or types of training were scheduled for weekends. However discipline with resulting punishments remained an ever present constant 24/7 365 plus leap years.

Julia having just turned nine shortly before the beginning of the September intake was the youngest girl in her Dorm, or that of their rival Dorm with whom they shared bathroom and lounge facilities. Both the First year Dorms now held seven girls in the ten bedded rooms because a newcomer had arrived joining the other group which had evened out their numbers within a few days. The new girl Tatiana had her birthday in June meaning Julia still remained the youngest, though far from the dumbest because Tatiana seemed to get spanked in almost every lesson which was really bad news for her Dormitory sisters.

Their current Dorm Master would check the combined number of punishments received in a week by the girls from each Dormitory promising to give the worst behaved group an extra spanking session before bedtime on Sunday evening. Tatiana had become unpopular with her room-mates because she'd single handedly put them at a disadvantage.

Julia could barely remember her parents who died in an accident when she was very little, so she'd been raised by her granny until she became very sick two years ago. About that time Mr. Thomas had appeared with his creepy looking lawyer getting her granny to sign the paperwork making Mr. Thomas her guardian which was like a sort of substitute parent but he was quite strict. She realised he was very rich when moving to his enormous house as from then onwards she no longer went to school, instead teachers taught her at home.

She had to call him either Sir or Daddy, and he always seemed very busy though he liked giving Julia her nightly bath and helping her play dress-up. She should've been grateful in a way because his strict household rules had taught her about obedience long before her enrolment at The Institute where many girls in her Grade floundered badly, simply unable to comply with the ever growing list of demands from all their various instructors.

Reading all the notes and learning the rules in the handbook they were given after their introductory lecture upon arrival had saved her bottom from countless spankings, though that didn't mean she had avoided being over the lap of many teachers for a painful reminder when she did make mistakes. After having her own spacious bedroom with an en suite bathroom at the Thomas residence Dormitory life was somewhat different.

She remembered after the long flight they'd stayed at a hotel several hours drive from the airport, then the following morning they were collected by a limousine for their onward journey to The Institute. Mr. Thomas had explained she would be entering a very exclusive girls boarding school, but he would make regular visits, stating if she studied diligently he would treat her to some wonderful holidays on fabulous tropical paradise islands.

She guessed for herself that the unspoken part of that sentence was all privileges would be withdrawn if she failed to meet his expectations.

It was Matron Wallace who'd given her the guided tour while her guardian remained in conversation with the Principal. The facilities were amazing, both indoor and outdoor swimming pools, a gymnasium, plus pitches marked on the lawns for various sports, but best of all they even had stables with ponies and horses. The first Grade Dorm had been a surprise, she had bed 'A4' being the fourth new girl to arrive, beside each of the ten beds was a bedside cabinet, a set of drawers, and a wardrobe, her small case already sitting on her bed. Her uniforms, clothing and everything else she needed would be provided.

Being in Dorm A meant she was forbidden to enter Dorm B and vice versa, but together they shared a comfy looking common room where they could play games and do their studying. The bathroom had been a shock, six stalls with no doors, okay she'd often been in a stall with a school-friend, but here there was just no privacy at all. The toilets also looked odd, Matron explaining they were Japanese combining the function of a toilet and a bidet. The Thomas residence had bidets in every bathroom, so she was aware of their function, later discovering there were harsh penalties for not being scrupulously hygienic.

Along the opposite wall was a run of inset washbasins the cupboards below marked for each girl in the two Dorms. The rear wall was an open shower area, a row of detachable shower hoses with hooks for flannels and shelves for soap, shower gel, and shampoo. Strangely the bathroom also contained the largest old-fashioned claw-foot bathtub she'd ever seen, the type where the taps and drain were in the middle so two people could share sitting at either end without the discomfort of having to avoid the taps or plughole.

This was just the beginning of her strange odyssey, an introduction to a world without any personal privacy or sense of modesty. She quickly realised her first year was going to be very tough as four languages were in common use throughout The Institute, now grateful for the lessons she'd been taught by the three foreign tutors arranged by her guardian. Although hardly fluent, she didn't have the awful uphill struggle faced by her classmates, actually able to act as a translator within her Dorm, thus helping her friends progress and avoid a good deal of the anguish involved through lagging behind with their studies.

Having students from numerous countries meant maybe a dozen languages were common other than the four core ones they were meant to be conversant with by the time they entered second Grade. Her linguistic advantage allowed her to avoid a spanking until the afternoon of her first day by which time each of her classmates had been across the lap of one or more of their tutors, sometimes having three spankings in a single lesson.

When Julia's turn came she knew the form, she also realised it was futile to be anything other than compliant otherwise the punishment was only liable to be increased by making a fuss. Moving quickly to the front of the class she stood to the right of Mr. Devereux then lowered her panties on demand next laying across his lap to await her fate.

She felt him raising the hem of her grey pleated pinafore dress laying it across her back then his hand returning to ensure the short tail of her crisp white school blouse cleared her bottom for his attention. He altered her position over his lap assuring himself that her bottom was perfectly raised for the coming punishment. The first few spanks were lighter as she'd noticed watching other girls on the receiving end, shortly as her rear began to heat-up his spanking became harder the added sting making her wriggle, crying out when consecutive spanks landed on the same spot.

When it was over she wasn't crying, well maybe her eyes watered a little, but on rising she at least remembered to thank him for the spanking as was the expected form before then carefully raising her panties and gingerly sitting back at her desk. Girls who forgot to thank their teachers for a punishment might receive a few slaps to the back of their thighs as a stark reminder to mind their manners. In the main dinning room that evening she became more aware of the care with which many of the girls, especially those in the upper Grades took their places, her own bottom by then feeling somewhat less tender.

Much like her former language lessons, her former spankings had fortunately prepared her for the obvious rigours of an educational establishment believing in corporal punishment as a method of instilling discipline. Along with everything else mealtimes also offered new learning opportunities particularly for those girls who seemed to come from less privileged backgrounds, unused to proper table etiquette. Julia had actually had lessons covering any mealtime, from royal banquets to the informality of alfresco eating or barbecues.

Their seating was arranged by Grade class, each time finding themselves with one or other teacher at the head of their table to ensure everyone paid attention to the relevant lessons being imparted. From the tureens in the centre everybody was expected to serve themselves in an orderly and polite manner, eating everything they put on their plate. Evening meals were often three courses, and you were expected to eat a little of each dish unless you had a known allergy against some foodstuff. The kitchen being aware of such things would have the serving staff point out problematic dishes for which there would be some alternatives for those affected.

Any misdemeanours during a meal would be dealt with after everyone finished eating, seeing as that punishment might actually occur in the dinning room in front of the entire assembly girls tried their hardest to avoid becoming a wider public spectacle.

From the very first day Julia had discovered being a first Grader at The Institute involved many shocking first-time experiences that were new to herself and her fellow newcomers. Having survived her various lessons during day one, then having a rather nice evening meal the two older girls assigned to lead the first Grader newbies about until they gained an idea of their schedules escorted them back to their Dormitory into the 'gentle' care of Mr. Pennington. He wasn't a teacher they'd encountered in any lessons, mostly teaching older students, but he was their chosen Dorm Master until the roster changed in October.

He had the two Dorm groups line up in bed number order standing straight and drawn upright, no slouching, hands to their sides as if soldiers on parade. Julia was beginning to imagine they were always regimented and on parade, thinking perhaps that wasn't a bad mindset when considering their predicament. He asked for those girls who'd been subject to punishment that day to raise their hands, risking a glance to either side Julia noticed that nobody from the other Dorm had avoided punishment either.

Walking along the line he asked the girls for details of how many times they'd each been punished and by whom, he seemed surprised Julia had gotten away with just a singular spanking, though communications issues with a number of girls explained why they'd been frequent visitors to the front of the classroom. Walking down the back of the row he had each girl raise her skirt and lower her panties to inspect the damage. Julia being forth in line kept her eyes to the front wanting to remain invisible as she heard exclamations and gasps from the first three in line.

Accepting her turn she bent forwards baring herself for inspection, aware of his closeness as his hand roamed over her bottom as if trying to memorise the contours, his fingers so close to her private place. Considering her spanking earlier that afternoon, and during her time with tutors over the past two years she didn't really have a private place when so openly displayed across some teacher’s lap. Having seen the other girls getting punished, she realised all that kicking and wriggling about quickly exposed any areas they might wish to remain secret. A girl further along the line obviously made too much fuss therefore received Mr. Pennington's disapproval as she was dragged forward and spanked over his knee in front of everyone.

Afterwards as she stood shaking and crying she was placed facing the opposite wall with her panties around one ankle hands on her head, then her dress raised with her glowing red bottom on display. Oddly enough the inspections continued without any further fuss. Mr. Pennington discussed corner-time after punishments, pointing out a feature of their current uniforms which they hadn't noted themselves, the addition of carefully placed fasteners which allowed for the rear of the skirt to be held in place for display purposes.

After the inspection routine which they learned would occur every evening after returning from their meal there was a mandatory study time to complete any homework or prepare for classes the following day. Julia imagined everyone was too shell-shocked to socialise much that first evening, each girl trying in their own way to come to terms with life at a new boarding school with such tough rules. Having seen which way the wind blew she immediately begun looking through the books she needed for lessons the next day.

Nearly eighty percent of their timetable revolved around mastering four core languages that were commonly used by the staff, thankfully English, her native tongue was heard most frequently which wasn't that helpful to many of her companions. Wanting to avoid the fate of those girls attracting their teacher’s attention for all the wrong reasons Julia felt time studying would make sitting down more comfortable. She imagined it was impossible to avoid punishments altogether, but having studied the rules she wanted to become a model student, maybe even a Prefect given time.

Her next shock wasn't long in coming as Mr. Pennington explained his way of doing things, while telling them new Dorm Master's assigned each month all had their own preferred methods or routines to ensure smooth running and good discipline.

They were to return to their allotted bed, then hang-up their pinafore uniform dresses, placing their socks, underwear, and blouses in the common laundry basket for collection.

Naked they would assemble in the bathroom to shower and use the facilities before retiring to bed, furthermore he would oversee the whole process checking upon their personal cleanliness if he didn't witness that they were washing themselves thoroughly!

Aside from those few occasions her guardian had been out of town travelling on business he had always found time to give Julia her evening bath, checking her private areas were cleaned properly, then using his hands and the over-bath shower hose to remove any last traces of soapsuds that he said lingered down her bottom crack and between her legs.

She now began to wonder if every man she encountered was so interested in those parts of a girl’s body she had once considered private.

In truth her somewhat sheltered upbringing and her general naivety had been apparent even as a seven-year-old, her guardian willing to invest the time and resources to enable this flower to bloom under his own guidance receiving the education most suited to those goals. He had other suitable diversions which fulfilled his desires while awaiting the results of this particular longer term project having been assured by other Institute patrons that his investment would be worthwhile, one chap having three companions of different ages who were all graduates of that esteemed academy.

Julia was certain that Mr. Pennington also shared her guardian's interest in a girl's secret places because he remained in the bathroom throughout their evening ablutions, even to the extent of checking girls knew all the functions of those weird Japanese toilet-bidet things. Again, some demonstrated that they were uncomfortable with his close scrutiny after they'd washed, that only lead to being spanked on their bare wet bottoms or thighs.

From their loud yells and the resounding echo in the bathroom Julia could only imagine those spanks must be more painful when applied to wet flesh.

While standing naked at the washbasins cleaning their teeth he went along the row, his hands touching each of the girls encouraging them to do a thorough job of that too. Returning to their Dorm room they were instructed to stand at the foot of their beds until he made his final inspection of the day. Julia decided that she didn't like Mr. Pennington, wondering if his replacement in October might be nicer, seeing as two girls were already in their nighties she was about to follow suit, then having second thoughts because she had a feeling he could be playing a trick on them.

Before she could voice her concerns to her roommates Mr. Pennington appeared at the doorway and they all scrambled into position standing smartly at the foot of their beds ready for inspection. It seemed her premonition had been correct, when he stated he hadn't yet given them permission to get dressed for bed. Those two girls were now on the verge of crying certain they would receive a further spanking before getting into bed.

He walked along the row briefly asking each girl if she intended to improve her behaviour during the course of the week. Two stops involved him sitting on the bed to dish out more bare bottom spankings which appeared to be a prominent feature of The Institute.

Finally given permission they dressed for bed, slipping beneath the soft cotton duvets, now silent save the odd sobbing sound as they reflected upon the day past and those yet to come. Julia's bed being beside the dividing wall faced the windows opposite, though a new sound began impinging on her consciousness, coming to the realisation that perhaps the girls in the other Dorm having had additional time were probably all in their nighties. Following one from another there were seven rounds of spanking with the inevitable cries of anguish as their horrible Dorm Master dished out more punishments.

Initially Julia, and her class - who were also her Dorm roommates began to look beyond their own sorry situation to notice more about the academic establishment where they were interred for the foreseeable future. Getting past their immediate woes, the school itself had an amazing library, the science classrooms held every conceivable modern piece of apparatus, and the landscaped grounds were stunningly beautiful. That said there were a lot of flies in the ointment, and they had yet to run short of nasty surprises.

Julia had been allowed to visit the stables during the weekend, but only to look and meet the staff and horses. Her guardian had promised equestrian training in Grade two if she had a good report from completing Grade one. Before arriving she hadn't realised the dire implications of that caveat – passing through Grade one with good marks.

Undoubtedly each girl would receive a good many marks, unfortunately most would be the angry red marks of numerous spankings. She had to grit her teeth and study like never before to keep her place near the top of her Grade, not wasting the head start over those thirteen other girls, at the same time she'd help her sister roommates stay ahead of their rival Dorm B on the other side of the wall.

It wasn't until week three that a space was allocated on their revised time-table to include physical education. She shouldn't have been surprised to discover their gym teacher was a man, well actually there were two, a man and a woman, she assumed they were married both having the same surname, though nothing at this school seemed certain other than regular punishments for the slightest mistake. They also discovered the original meaning of the Greek word gymnasium which she'd thought meant a place for doing athletics, that was only half right, because gymnos actually meant naked!!!

Apparently according to her new teachers in the original Olympic games all those people taking part would have performed naked, she couldn't imagine the modern Olympics happening that way when some competitors from several religious countries nowadays covered themselves head to toe. Another discovery was that they'd be doing all indoor games or gymnastics naked other than footwear, the same would hold true for outdoor running or sports during the summer months. The only exception being a sports support bra for girls with sufficient cleavage, or the wearing of panties during their period.

Being told this information by a man was super embarrassing, okay everyone in her Grade was flat chested other than a few cases of prominent nipples, but none had yet reached puberty. That was covered during an introductory lecture by Matron Wallace, the whole thing rather gross, but it was part of the stuff about having babies, and all that would be covered in detailed lectures when they reached Grade two.

Despite her embarrassment about being naked throughout the class Julia could hardly cover herself as they ran laps around the gym which also involved jumping over hurdles, climbing ladder-like wall-bars which could be rotated into the room for that very purpose, and negotiating many other obstacles. Ignoring the fact she and the others were naked it was actually quite good fun. They did star jumps, balance exercises, and ball games while their two instructors made notes, later giving out advice about what each of them could do with regard to improving their fitness.

Normally Julia would expect a girls changing room to be a female only environment, but of course The Institute didn't work like that as their male gym instructor explained showering was mandatory after any P.E. class. Quite sensibly they were told to wear shower caps to avoid getting their hair wet so they weren't late getting to their following lesson. Another sensible issue was how pegs and cubbyholes for their kit and clothing were labelled from A1 to A10, and B1 to B10, so that suited whichever year group were using the facility.

Julia discovered that A4 would remain her Dormitory designation as she rose up through the school, in fact all her clothing had sewn-in laundry tags G1-A4, stating Grade and bed number whereas next year her stuff would be labelled G2-A4. If any more latecomers now joined her Dorm like had happened in Dorm B, then that girl would get bed number eight so everything remained ordered and logical within the system.

Amazingly enough for once they'd gone through an entire lesson without anyone being spanked, though one of her friends pointed out an array of whippy looking sticks together with a number of other items that looked like implements of punishment. Not wishing to tempt fate they didn't draw attention to themselves, listening to what they were told, and waiting to be dismissed after they were dried and dressed. They'd developed a sort of buddy system whereby they checked one another's appearance, like ties straight, socks aligned, and that sort of thing to avoid unnecessary trouble.

Those girls like herself with a guardian were required to write an actual pen and ink letter each week, because personal phones or devices weren't permitted, besides the computers on the school network available to the pupils didn't have internet access. Because each of their letters would be placed in addressed envelopes by the administration staff, Julia was circumspect in what she wrote, anyway their teacher checked every letter for grammatical errors and neatness of handwriting, another possible avenue for receiving a punishment.

They didn't have that much interaction with the older Grades, but one interesting thing the un-sponsored girls in her Dorm discovered from older girls in the same situation was that those in the higher Grades did get the opportunity of meeting gentlemen who might be willing to sponsor their education, although details regarding that scheme were somewhat lacking. Having a guardian sponsoring her own education meant Julia had the possibility of extracurricular opportunities like horse-riding, tennis lessons, fencing, learning to play an instrument, or countless other interesting activities.

The last Sunday in September heralded one more group spanking for the adjacent Dorm B girls, as yet again between them they'd suffered more collective punishments that week than the girls of Julia's Dorm A, gaining themselves that extra painful humiliation.

A couple of days later two older Prefects moved Mr. Pennington's personal possessions out to be replaced by those of Mr. Niklaus their October Dorm Master. Because the girls of her Grade originally spoke several languages, and were slowly becoming more conversant with the four core ones required by The Institute, the jokes or puns they shared were often a play on words, hence they secretly referred to their Dorm Master as their Doom Master, but it wouldn't be advisable using that term if they could be overheard.

If anything, it turned out Mr. Niklaus was even stricter than his predecessor, out of the pan and into the fire. Poor Tatiana spent a lot of time standing up whilst doing her homework revision, desperate to improve her language skills to avoid the ire of both her teachers and roommates. The remainder of their short-lived introductory classes which had populated their timetables were now replaced by what The Institute considered regular mainstream lessons for novitiates of their age-group.

Although stricter Mr. Niklaus was perhaps fairer, good news for Dorm B, less so for Dorm A, and a nightmare for the unfortunate Tatiana. Their new Dorm Master had looked through their individual punishment statistics which were pencilled-in for everyone to see across a big year planner mounted on the common room wall. From previous results each girl was given a weekly maximum target they weren't to exceed, obviously these targets weren't realistic, and the penalties would include further punishments that would place them in even greater peril, generally a no win situation.

The girls neatened their beds in the morning and tidied their Dorms and common room, but a housekeeping crew collected and replaced laundry, plus they cleaned the Masters suite and bathroom during school hours. Along with everything else they also replaced the numerous boxes of tissues in the common room and on their bedside tables, as distraught snivelling girls having just been spanked got through a lot of tissues. Mr. Niklaus continued the practice of after school parades to admit their sins and receive his intimate inspection of their reddened bottoms, later discovering this was universal with all Dorm Masters.

Everybody realised Tatiana was struggling, and those girls best qualified including Julia did their best to help, but even her remarkable progress noticeable after the first full week of October didn't satisfy Mr. Niklaus. Theoretically they knew about yellow chits, this having been covered in one of their endless lectures, though Tatiana was the first of their number to be issued with the dreaded piece of paper, Julia likening it to the 'Black Spot' from the children's classic Treasure Island.

Her 8:30 appointment after breakfast on Saturday morning caused some trepidation and those girls like Julia who were later studying in their common room kept looking towards the clock wondering about her return. As time passed, they speculated about the cause of the delay, perhaps there was a queue of girls awaiting an appointment with Mr. Stanislav. Actually, Julia learned that wasn't a family name but his first name, anyway that was how he was formally addressed, either that or simply Sir. Julia obliviously had no wish to greet this man in his official capacity, now or any future time though that seemed very unlikely.

Tatiana entered walking very slowly as if treading on eggshells, almost bow-legged the way her thighs were parted, her hands almost hovering around her bottom, kind of unsure whether or not rubbing would ease her discomfort. She hadn't replaced her panties after the ordeal, and in the bathroom they each saw the bright red colour which even extended down to her thighs thus explaining her tentative gait.

They helped and sympathised as a flannel doused in tepid water was gently applied to her throbbing bottom and thighs, as they listened to her story.

(Tatiana's tale translated into English)

“You know the passage off the main hallway, well it only leads down, downstairs to the dungeon. I wasn't the first but I didn't want to arrive late and make it any worse, though already there were others waiting with their chits also. The corridor beside the dungeon is well lit so everyone sitting waiting can see those lined-up who've already been punished.”

“You sit and wait, the girls facing the wall opposite with their skirts raised, hands on their heads, the welts and marks so vivid and terrible, I was so frightened. Then through the door you hear the sounds, a cane or paddle swooping down, then the cries, sometimes they plead, but he must carry out the punishment regardless. If I hadn't been to the toilet a hundred times before I would have wet myself.”

“When the door opened everyone flinched, he lead out this third or fourth Grade girl who went and stood across the corridor, from the marks it must have been a caning, and the girl who'd stood there longest was told she could now adjust her clothing then leave.

Two others went in before it was my turn, strangely he wasn't mean, he looked at the chit and asked how I'd become so behind in my work. There's a set ritual, you must repeat why you're there, then ask to be punished. He said because I was in first Grade, and my first time downstairs I would have a hand spanking to begin followed by the slipper, which explains the long rounded marks, that slipper really stung.”

“Just like in class he said to lower my panties and lay across his lap. You can imagine that I was crying something awful when he finished, and somehow during the punishment I'd managed to kick my panties off across the room, I suppose in other circumstances that might be funny. He held my hands while I calmed down and caught my breath, eyebrow raised as if waiting, then I remembered 'jen-koo-ye' thank-you for my punishment I will try to do better. Then it was my turn to stand across the corridor, it seemed a long time, then he taps me on the shoulder saying I should return to my studies.”

Julia feeling genuine pity for the girl retrieved her own precious supply of calamine lotion.

It wasn't till seven weeks into the term that they finally met the school doctor.

They already knew both the Matrons and the nurse, one girl in Dorm B discovering it was unwise to 'play a sicky' as a full work-up from their care staff soon diagnosed her issue as wanting to bunk-off lessons. A horrible public enema in their Dorm bathroom followed the next day by a visit to the dungeon quickly cured that form of sickness from spreading.

Julia awaited her medical, obviously fourth being A4, the last would be Tatiana being as she had bed seven in Dorm B, hence B7 which would make her the fourteenth to see the doctor. Being forewarned everyone had workbooks they could read in the meantime.

The doctor's time wasn't to be wasted, therefore as they all shuffled along the next girl waiting to be examined got undressed, it wasn't so public being both the nurses station and the anteroom to the doctor's office.

The nurse said because this was their first major examination it would be thorough which included a gynaecological inspection. Julia would find this mortifying, the embarrassment, but he could hardly see anything more than seen by all of her teachers so far, and now two Dorm Masters as well. Upon seeing Susana's bright red blush which extended down her chest confirmed Julia's worst fears that it would be horribly embarrassing.

Julia timidly knocked, unfortunately the doctor said to come straight in, the nurse having pre-emptively done her weight, height, and various other body measurements relieved the doctor of that task. Being short with little round glasses and a full set of bristling whiskers he was a bit like Santa other than his hair was dark, and he wasn't bringing any presents.

She gasped with surprise as he helped boost her up onto the couch sitting sideways so she couldn't help notice ominous metalwork at one end, easily able to guess it's function.

At least his hands were warm as he went through the ears nose and throat routine, which included that 'empty' ice-lolly stick in her mouth. He did the stethoscope thing too listening to her heart and lungs back and front, asking her to cough.

She noticed he had a stack of folders, hers the open on his desk, referring to her medical history rather than asking questions about stuff she wouldn't remember anyway. He did manage to ask dozens of other questions, like about how she was settling down to school life, about the regularity of her bathroom habits, and did she ever experience pain passing urine or stools. He talked as he went along, explaining that palpating her chest gave him some indication as to how rapidly or otherwise she was approaching puberty, also feeling around her hips. Julia guessed it could only go downhill from here onwards...

She was correct, hop down and pee into one of the sample cups in his adjacent bathroom, there were pots on a shelf beside the toilet and little lids one already labelled G1-A4.

Taking care to ensure she was fresh and clean afterwards Julia returned with trepidation, fairly certain she'd now end up lengthways at the far end of the examination couch.

Dr Raphael considered himself an expert in the subject of pre-teen through to adolescent gynaecology, something he could study to his heart’s content having a plumb job that he'd willingly do for free, though he wouldn't want the Director of The Institute to realise that.

Julia could only close her eyes wanting the ground to swallow her up as the doctor sitting on a low stool arranged her legs in the stirrups for a grandstand view of her girlish parts. Aside from the fact she was fairly secured in place she would've cringed at the pulling and manipulation of her private place. He was so close she could feel his breath on her skin as he spoke about her minimal crescent hymen and minimal state of her labial development, he even touched her bottom hole asking if she'd ever needed an enema.

Eventually after an eternity her ordeal was over, leaving his office in an embarrassed state that rivalled her friend Susana. Her shocked condition precluded her noticing the next girl entering the office, though she dressed mechanically while the sixth girl now anxiously undressed having witnessed the distressed state of those leaving the doctor's office, and they hadn't even received any disciplinary punishment!

Later when Julia had calmed herself down, she decided a treat was in order to revive her spirits. First Grade students weren't allowed outside the grounds, whereas the older girls could seek permission to enter the local village for the exercise, and to browse either of its two shops. First Graders had a weekly credit allowance they could 'spend' in the store run by the catering department where they could pamper themselves with the odd treat. For un-sponsored girls this was fairly limited, but sponsored pupils like herself might be allowed a little more at the discretion of their guardian.

Chapter 03

The life of a Second Grade student. (2nd Grade 10-11yo)

Francesca could scarcely believe how much she'd changed over the past fourteen months having arrived as a naïve newcomer, age-wise around the middle of her intake, being almost nine and a half, thinking at the time she was so worldly - so mistaken more like.

At ten and half she was a little wiser, enough so that she realised her many educational and social shortcomings, knowing there was much yet to learn, and this Institute would teach her; the easy way or hard way depended upon her own attitude.

Her own guardian was a bastard, but nevertheless a generous one, a poor orphan usually pushed from pillar to post didn't have many options. Fortune had shone that day when her 'Uncle Luigi' had driven by seeing her playing in the orphanage yard. In looking back she didn't for one moment imagine her adoption was actually legitimate. Officially in the eyes their local government she was his young 'niece' and her passport would tend to confirm that detail. She had hardly become settled into his household among several older 'nieces' teenagers or early twenties, when suddenly he announced she was off to boarding school.

Languages came easily so she hadn't suffered quite so many spankings as her poor roommates, they'd become tightly bonded over time looking out for one another, quid pro quo, you save my ass and I'll save yours. Falling out over stupid inconsequential stuff made life difficult for everyone sharing the Dorm, you simply didn't piss-off your sisters.

It wasn't exactly us-V-them either, you couldn't buck the system, better to knuckle-down, take your licks, and learn the lesson. Grade one had taught her that much, settling in for Grade two meant far greater changes to their timetable, lesson plans for the year ahead could be more academic now everybody could comprehend the same set of languages. The future was still uncertain for those in their group without a sponsor, though usually The Institute didn't begin to actively seek sponsorship for un-sponsored girls until Grades three or four, around eleven to thirteen years old.

The first couple of girls in her Dorm had gotten their periods, both Matrons Delacourt and Wallace covered that subject, so it hadn't been like any nasty surprise. School convention was you wore black underwear during your period, it didn't mean you'd get punished any less frequently, and most teachers wouldn't bulk at the sight of a little string hanging out, so those panties were likely to be coming down anyway.

Francesca hadn't yet reached menarche herself, but the doctor liked to get them regular as soon as possible through using medication. One girl having an older sister swore that the little blister packs of twenty-eight tablets were the ones used to prevent women from having babies. That was a moot point because it wasn't like any of them were having sex with men anyway. The full how-babies-are-conceived thing was just part of the series of healthcare lectures for students at the beginning of Grade two.

All thoughts of babies aside Francesca was certainly more aware of her nipples recently as her friends noted aches or soreness were a sure sign her breasts were starting to develop.

Unfortunately they didn't do any clothes shopping because the school provided everything from the in-house couture department. They could hardly complain as their staff ensured the clothing fitted correctly, even making alterations if necessary.

The more developed girls said they were taught the proper way to measure bra sizes so they fitted comfortably, and activity bras provided adequate support for sports and games.

Being in Grade two coincided with a change of uniform, no longer the drab grey pleated pinafore style outfit and plain white blouse. Now on a fortnightly basis the uniforms they wore rotated in sequence to display an international flavour of schoolgirl clothing styles. They'd just swapped from the bright colourful catholic school plaid wrap around skirt with the stylish blouse and jumper combination to the smart striking Japanese dark blue and white sailor girl costumes which they all liked.

Regardless of what they wore those skirts were still raised for the inevitable punishments, though along with their additional freedoms of being in Grade two, the penalties for any infraction also increased, chits for the dungeon now more common than a swift spanking in the classroom. Those Masters on Dorm duty for Grade two supplemented punishments by also using a slipper, and apparently the choice of implements rose with each Grade.

Francesca had of course shifted one place clockwise around the cross shaped building that provided Dormitories for everyone aside from the senior girls. She didn't understand why they couldn't remain in the same wing, then just swap the Grade designation nameplate beside the doorway. She wouldn't be aware that although each of the eight Dormitories followed the same basic template, some details or facilities changed for the higher Grades.

Moving round ninety degrees also affected the play of light entering the various rooms, as she'd noticed this from the glint of sunlight off the full-length mirror mounted on the inside of her wardrobe door. Their new Dorm room also featured a free-standing tiltable mirror so they could check their appearance. The common room and bathroom had large mirrors too, as several times she'd noticed whoever currently held the post of Dorm Master could observe them from practically anywhere in either room.

On the subject of appearance Francesca had noted the girls around her were starting to diverge. At the beginning of Grade one they'd been more similar - straight up and down with flat chests with a smooth unadorned coin-slot girl cleft. Now changes were becoming evident, though occurring in no set order as if nature were playing tricks on them, with some girls discovering newly sprouted hair, while others found their boobs were starting to develop. It was kind of confusing and unfair because some hadn't changed at all, while she was perhaps thankfully somewhere in the middle, quite pleased with her emerging breast buds, but very few wisps of hair showing as yet.

Whatever the situation it was still embarrassing having various teachers comment on how nicely you were coming along. Another unwelcome development discussed amongst them was how Grade two Dorm room punishments were often administered while they were totally naked over the Master's lap. A few better developed girls spoke about their boobs being fondled by Masters apparently 'adjusting' their position, but face-down bum-up with a slippering about to commence was hardly the ideal time to make any vocal protests.

Being resigned to the fact punishments were a fact of life didn't make it any easier, while during more formal discipline sessions they were now required to count the strokes which kind of added insult to injury. The reason she'd been looking in the mirror was to survey the damage from that morning's visit to see Mr. Stanislav, her smart tongue getting her into trouble once again. Sometimes she couldn't help herself the smart reply coming to her lips before her brain kicked-in to say that wasn't the best idea.

Sitting on the bench in the basement corridor never failed to raise her anxiety regardless of the number of times she'd found herself in that position, looking across at the line-up of girls who'd preceded her, reddened rumps on display. It didn't do to dwell on the bottoms seemingly glowing from their latest punishment, guessing which were outlines of a paddle, leather strap, or vicious cane. Her turn came as she knew it would, handing over the chit as Mr. Stanislav shook his head saying it was about time she learned to curb her tongue, and although he didn't lecture, she could see his disappointment.

Her eyes flickered along the wall, the invariable line-up of items from the basic selection of different weight slippers, then of wooden and leather paddles, through to the singular or split leather tawse, followed by an array of whippy canes. Besides those items she could readily identify there were many others which she couldn't name, neither did she wish to become familiar with any additional implements of correction. Given the choice, which obviously she wasn't, Francesca preferred getting the slipper over his lap, believing he didn't get so much swing, instead she found herself over the tall padded shaped stool to receive her allotted whacks.

They went through the usual ritual.

“Why are you here miss Francesca?”

“I've misbehaved by my impudence in class. Would you please punish me Mr. Stanislav.”

It always chafed that she had to request her own punishment.

“This isn't your first offence for such an easily addressable mistake; therefore you're going to receive twelve whacks of the slipper. Please present yourself properly over the stool.”

She lowered her panties partly down then leaned forwards settling herself into place, as she reached back to move her skirt. His hands helped arrange her uniform, as his feet nudged her own further apart to the correct stance, her panties pulling tight between her parted thighs.

“You will count the strokes.”

“Yes Sir.”

The brief air of expectancy was horrid, wishing it to be over whilst awaiting the first sting. It appeared this time she was to forego the preemptive hand spanking that sometimes preceded a slippering, opinions varied, Francesca herself feeling the warm-up made the following ordeal less daunting.

Whoosh.

“One.”

Whoosh.

“Two.”

And so it continued, the delay eventually increasing between stroke and reply as to its number, while other shouts, cries, or exclamations filled the air.

“Last one.”

Whoosh.

This was followed by a rather stuttered twelve, between her now quickened breathing. She anticipated what might happen next perhaps willing his hand forwards as he gently stroked her red abused bottom, feeling comfort from his actions. She acutely felt the absence as his hand moved away.

Standing her skirt fell into place, sniffing she looked up knowing the ritual was incomplete.

“Thank you Sir for the slippering to correct my bad behaviour.”

She received a brief hug of forgiveness, then he helped fasten her skirt in place ready for her 'corner-time' facing the wall in the corridor outside. The walk was only a few dozen steps, a strange walk with his guiding hand on her shoulder, her own hand holding panties at mid-thigh, not yet allowed to pull them up, not wanting to add to her misery by tripping over should they tangle around her ankles.

Standing in the corridor hands on head, feet apart, red bottom on display there was little to do but think and reflect on what had landed her in that situation. Fifteen minutes later a tap on the shoulder indicated her time was over. Hurrying back to her Dorm would bring her back to the same place, instead she proceeded in a dignified manner as befitted any young lady of The Institute.

For once she was caught-up with her coursework, even having checked the lesson plans for the week ahead. She would give herself the day off, hitting the books again on Sunday so as not to tempt fate through over confidence. Being a Saturday, she'd only worn her normal school uniform because formal punishments required formal school-wear.

Because Mr. Van Der Meulen, their current Dorm Master wasn't around she would present her yellow chit marked 'punishment received' at roll-call that evening when they returned after eating. All yellow chits had to be accounted for, signed by Mr. Stanislav with details of the punishment given, though unfortunately he'd also suggested her Dorm Master issue a soapy mouthwash as another reminder to hold her tongue. Oh Yuck!

Uniform neatly hanging up, bottom inspected, still bright red, Francesca changed into casual clothing that suited the weather deciding a coat would be better than a thick jumper as she wanted to stretch her legs before lunchtime. As often occurred she was drawn towards the stables, during the colder months the staff exercised the mounts when they weren't in the stables or paddock, but come the Spring she would ride Prancer at every opportunity.

It was a given that 'Uncle Luigi' was a bastard, but an incredibly generous one, in having her own horse delivered to The Institute. It was somewhat crazy to discover riding here was so popular when considering at the moment her bum felt twice it's normal size, and that was usually the same for everybody. As she approached his ears shot up then he hurried across the enclosure to greet her, a few others following in his wake.

It wasn't that he could smell the carrots in her pocket cadged from the kitchens, as she didn't always bring him treats. On those occasions she was both able and allowed to ride she never used a crop, sensitive through knowing how that felt. Visiting Prancer and his friends lifted her mood in time for lunch. Mealtimes were somewhat less formal during the weekends, that didn't mean it was safe to push your luck either.

Before going to the administration section Francesca checked in the nearest bathroom that her appearance was suitably smart, her eyes not reddened like her rear, her face showing no signs of her earlier ordeal that morning.

Going into the village was a newly acquired privilege from entering Grade two, something she hadn't done alone before, in fact only a few times with her roommates. She almost tiptoed into the administration area standing silently beside the counter waiting for one of the secretarial staff to notice her presence when they looked up from their current tasks. It wasn't only teachers with the authority to issue punishments, it always paid to behave.

The inquisition wasn't as lengthy as she'd expected; quizzed regarding her knowledge of expected behaviour for somebody representing The Institute, then reminded about the dire penalties of returning late. The little green edged card was attached to a lanyard she wore around her neck, a visible mnemonic stamped with the latest time she was supposed to present herself back at the admin desk. Francesca had no intentions of being late, one sound slippering per day was one too many in her books.

Despite the pass hanging from her neck she felt somehow bold and adventurous when passing through the wrought iron gates of the driveway, being somewhere forbidden.

The brisk walk along the tree lined country road was pleasant, and because the road only linked The Institute to the village it would be unlikely she'd encounter passing traffic unless someone was making a delivery.

She didn't see anyone other than two older students who were returning until she reached the small isolated village itself. The two stores consisted of a bread shop, and a general grocery store which sold all manner of things apart from bread, cakes, and pastries. Unsurprisingly she received a warm welcome when she entered the first store to choose herself a yummy fruit tart which was among their specialities. Without travelling further afield she couldn't say whether the presence of The Institute affected the local prices, but the scrumptious tart was well worth the few coins it cost.

Sitting beneath the tree in the square to enjoy her treat the slatted bench became another slightly uncomfortable reminder of her appointment earlier that morning. Those few locals who passed by greeted her or tipped their hats, so she smiled and made cheerful replies not wishing to cause anyone offence, or reason to contact The Institute. Both she and her friends noted the social divide between themselves and the village folk, maybe deference was the word she sought. Always having tissues about her person she licked then wiped her sticky fingers then disposed of her rubbish, littering was probably a hanging offence.

Joking aside they did learn about acceptable modes of behaviour that would serve them well in almost any social setting. The second store was eclectic and crowded, finding new things on each subsequent visit among the serried ranks of shelving, but like Cinderella Francesca had an unmissable deadline. Seeing some panties with exquisitely embroidered details she had to check whether they had her size. Checking the sizes and price it was obvious these were targeted at Institute girls rather than locals, but buying herself two pairs wouldn't dent her weekly allowance. She thanked the store owner then decided to head back having plenty of time to beat her curfew.

Rather than deposit her purchases she stopped first at the admin desk having over half an hour to spare when she returned the green edged card on its cord, thanking the staff member who'd noted in the register the time of Francesca's return. It had been a pleasant outing which had involved both food and clothes shopping things didn't get much better.

Francesca froze at the sound of her name being called out, what had she possibly done wrong, her heart racing to think of anything, turning to see Matron Delacourt beckoning her over. Panic over, normally either Matron, though stern rarely handed out punishments aside from they sometimes administered horrible enemas to anyone faking an illness.

“Yes, Matron Delacourt?”

“I'm wondering if you could do something for me.”

Francesca considered that an odd turn of phrase from an adult, almost as if she was being given some choice as to whether or not she might accede to some request.

Strangely enough that was exactly the case, a demonstration was required for the first Grade students, most of whom had been here around seven weeks now, therefore they should be finding their feet. It would pretty embarrassing, thinking back she remembered having seen the same demonstration herself fairly soon after arriving. She'd been given the option to refuse without penalty, whereas saying yes would score Brownie points with a person who was known for her fairness. Possibly in the future she might need help from someone like Matron Delacourt on the welfare team.

“It's pretty embarrassing, but yes Matron I'll volunteer.”

“Good girl that's the spirit, this evening after supper in Recreation room two before we send them back to their Dorm, I'll square it with Mr. Van Der Meulen.”

That reminded Francesca she had a cancelled chit to hand-in, well almost cancelled as she was still due a soaping. She didn't think about asking Matron Delacourt to intervene about that small matter, perhaps saving any favours for when she was really desperate, but she did mention about the chit so when she spoke to her Dorm Master he'd realise she hadn't forgotten about presenting him the chit, though delayed till after doing the demonstration.

She didn't disturb anyone on passing through their common room, as those girls looked to be studying or completing homework assignments. Larger laundry items went straight into their shared hamper, whereas panties, socks, and the like went into little draw-string net bags to make sorting easier. If any repairs or alterations were needed they placed some colourful notepaper into the bag with the details for the housekeeping crew.

Francesca wanted the new panties both labelled and washed before wearing them, that way there was little chance they might be misplaced on subsequent trips through the laundry. She debated about getting changed again for the demonstration, then decided not to bother as the dress she wore wouldn't affect the show, on second thoughts it didn't have the fastenings common to their usual school-wear. She ended up walking back to the main building wearing the sailor girl outfit she'd been wearing earlier, nobody insensitive enough to ask if Francesca was expecting another punishment after their evening meal.

Seeing their Dorm Master in the dining hall she thought it prudent to check that Matron Delacourt had spoken with him, and he'd been told of her duty after dinner. Be it dinner, supper, or whatever, her friends had the habit of slipping back into their native language when talking about mealtimes, often raving about regional delicacies from their part of the world. Their meals were excellent, so nobody could complain their favourite cuisine was missed from the menu.

Nervous and self-conscious she entered rec-room two where the props had been arranged for the demonstration which did nothing to reduce her anxious state. Fourteen chairs in an arc around the stage were occupied by the entire Grade one intake who curiously awaited the coming display. Mr. Stanislav standing beside Matron Delacourt brought the memories flooding back of when she had witnessed a similar show, but now she was participating, it might well be said having the leading role.

“Ah, good evening, Francesca.”

“Good evening, Matron Delacourt; Mr. Stanislav.”

“Thank you for being so prompt, now we can begin. This evening's demonstration for you girls of the first Grade is concerning the etiquette and positions commonly employed in more formal discipline situations. I imagine until now you've mostly received some minor corrections in lessons, or from your Dorm Master. During your time at The Institute as we endeavour to help you reach your full potential as well-educated disciplined young ladies you will inevitably encounter further measures which are aimed to promote obedience and rigorous study habits within our student body.”

“I believe so far only two of your number have had recourse to visit Mr. Stanislav who so kindly provides the majority of disciplinary punishments. During first Grade, your teachers usually deal with matters in the classroom, while your Dorm Master will settle disciplinary issues which are outside of that realm. To avoid confusion and unnecessary fuss girls here are expected to conduct themselves with propriety, dignity and stoicism with regard to their punishments at all times.”

“There are numerous suitable positions to adopt for the recipient, which may depend upon whether a hand spanking is being given, or when sterner situations require the application of implements like the slipper, paddle, tawse, or cane. Several conventional positions will now be demonstrated by Francesca who has kindly agreed to be your role model today.”

“Francesca, could you demonstrate the correct standing pose?”

“Note she is bent fully at the waist, legs parted to provide balance, panties lowered to mid-thigh, her hands grasping just above her ankles, with her skirt flipped over her back to provide an unimpeded target area. Thank you, you may stand and adjust your clothes.”

“Now on to a seated spanking position please.”

Francesca realised rather than side-on to the audience, her recently punished bottom would be facing them from where Mr. Stanislav was sitting. Standing to his right she lowered her panties again, settled herself comfortably across his lap with her bottom raised and her hands outstretched, as she felt him arranging her skirt while listening to Matron Delacourt's commentary. On cue she moved her right hand to protect her bottom, a move that would normally engender an extended punishment as the Matron explained.

The audience listened about the futility of trying to hinder any punishment as Mr. Stanislav grasped the errant hand with his left hand holding it to the small of her back while giving Francesca a couple of lightweight swats to the backside. Next they did across the desk or table, with advice to grasp the far side whenever possible to avoid the temptation of any errant hands interfering with the punishment. Mr. Stanislav interjected at that point stating that any girl misbehaving like that in his punishment room, would find the count stopped and he would start again from the beginning.

For anyone not paying attention Matron Delacourt explained if a girl had ten stokes of the cane, but her hand tried to cover her bottom on the tenth stroke, she would then get ten further strokes of the cane. Worse still this might continue if they were unable to control themselves.

Those positions over the bed or a stool were similar to the desk though a stool might also have a bar to grab onto. Two further positions on a bed that she demonstrated was that of kneeling down with her head down and bottom raised well up, then another which was one of her least favourites as she thought it was horribly degrading to be laying down across the corner of a bed because it splayed her thighs so widely.

Damn there was one more position to cover, that really was embarrassment personified as she climbed onto the desk to show the diaper position, or nappy position depending upon your own cultural background. Laying on her back she raised her legs into the air, then drew them backwards until her knees were close to her shoulders which raised her bottom from table surface, as if that lewd wide stance wasn't bad enough, you were laying there holding your open legs in place while facing the person who was spanking or caning you.

Fortunately she could get down as the show was almost complete other than Francesca play acting the part about the correct form of asking for a punishment, talk about counting strokes, then formally thanking the person who'd provided the punishment which was a reflection on what had happened for real that very morning.

Matron Delacourt, thanked Francesca, then Mr. Stanislav had to leave at that point giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. There followed a Q & A session, and unexpectedly all the questions seemed thrown in her direction as the 'experienced' older girl.

Which of the punishment implements discussed had she experienced?

Spanking obviously, several slipperings, once with a paddle, but that was it so far.

The questions ranged over the longest or worse punishments she'd received, till eventually someone asked about the colour of her bottom that was evident even from the beginning of that evening’s demonstration which had only involved a few light spanks. She'd in fact expected ten at worst that morning, but he'd given her twelve because of the repeat offence.

“I received a sound slippering of twelve hard strokes earlier this morning.”

The intake of air was almost audible, the audience then hushed unable to think of anything else after learning that news.

Matron Delacourt suggested everyone thank Francesca, then return to their Dorm, as they were all walking in the same direction a few of the bolder youngsters asked a couple more questions, mainly about which implements were considered to be the most painful.

Francesca had missed the normal ritual line-up that occurred when they returned from the evening meal, nevertheless she immediately sought out Mr. Van Der Meulen, who smiling asked about that evening's demonstration, glad it was successful and informative for those newcomers to their Institute. Skirt-up panties-down yet again for the umpteenth time that day he inspected Mr. Stanislav's handiwork, then noted the comments on the yellow chit. Her soaping would occur at the beginning of that evening's bath time. Strange that they all called it bath time regardless of the fact that most times they showered.

It was fun having a bath, sometimes shared by as many as four girls at a time, normally only at weekends and that could happen at any hour during the daytime.

Throwing laundry into the hamper somebody had noticed her pretty new panties with the prominent request card about affixing her personal laundry tags, so her friends wanted to know where they'd come from. Receiving gifts or mail from their sponsors wasn't unusual, so learning they'd come from the village store meant there could be a spate of visits the following morning. Although many countries for traditional or religious reason had limited Sunday trading, the village had no such qualms because weekends were when they could expect most custom from the girls at The Institute.

Later shortly before bedtime she went through an abbreviated ritual for the remaining part of her punishment as designated by Mr. Stanislav.

“Why are you here Francesca?” asked her Dorm Master.

“I've been impudent in class. Would you please complete my punishment Sir.”

With everyone else looking on he began soaping-up a small white cloth which was then folded and put into her mouth, she pulled a face as she couldn't rid herself of the horrid soapy tasting cloth for a whole minute, the sweep hand of the wall-clock seemed to have slowed down to increase her torment. The request to brush her teeth was denied, told to go and shower beforehand. If Mr. Van Der Meulen saw her rinsing her mouth with water from the shower-heads he let that slip this time.

What had started as an odd experience was now part and parcel of daily life, showering with her friends was so normal that a shower alone would feel peculiar. The abundant hot water flowed as you soaped-up your neighbour, or helped run shampoo and conditioner through their hair, then somebody did the same for you. Often, they'd compare bottoms in the shower, who's was the reddest, applying soap and a friendly massage to ease the sting, then dried and returned to their room a covering of soothing lotion might follow.

Francesca was aware of certain crushes, living so closely together girls slipping into one another's beds during the night for a cuddle could hardly be missed, sometimes noticing two heads on a pillow in the morning, quickly scrambling to their own bed on hearing the first bell which meant the Dorm Master might appear at any moment to ensure they were up and preparing to visit the bathroom. She'd kissed the other girls, something which had started as a dare, or maybe a forfeit during a game in the year below, but really that was just an excuse, besides they all secretly knew that anyway.

The same went for comparing their development, discovering what boobs felt like with those girls who were becoming more shapely. It didn't do to worry about puberty because the Matrons and nurse had said both the start and overall rate of adolescent development stretched out having an increased timespan for girls, whereas for boys everything more or less happened overnight. Following a few whispered conversations recently Francesca had been making plans for a 'sleepover' of her own anyway.

Before drifting off to sleep she began thinking of Uncle Luigi's last letter, he was planning to come and visit for a whole weekend next month. Then as he'd worded it, depending on her 'progress and attitude' she might be able to join him along with his other 'nieces' over the Christmas break. Being here to learn discipline rather than some exclusive school local to his mansion had undoubtedly arisen from her reluctance to copy what the older 'nieces' were doing. She wasn't much over nine years old at that time, she wouldn't have known anything about blowjobs without hearing about them from the others. Considering he had five girls already doing stuff, she hadn't understood why she was required to participate as well in sucking his cock.

This year's sexual education program had filled many blanks in her knowledge, then in the subsequent Q & A sessions some of the bolder girls had asked questions she wouldn't have been brave enough to ask herself. Men generally wanted to do sex more often than women, secondly the majority of men liked younger women, even to the point of liking girls who were considered too young under current legislation in most western countries. Countless new words had come into focus, like arousal, and especially – erections.

Thinking back to all those times over some teachers lap for a spanking, too focused then herself regarding the spanking, but those 'lumps' in their trousers now made sense.

Chapter 04

Returning to Julia's view as a 1st year, up to Christmas and into the New Year.

(1st Grade 9-10yo)

Back in October they'd had another of those one-off lectures aimed at educating the dumb newbies. And admittedly sometimes she did feel rather ignorant, luckily there were others making far more mistakes which shone the spotlight elsewhere. This older Grade two girl demonstrated all the positions for being spanked, well obviously not all, but those popular with The Institute staff anyway. Like everyone else Julia complained they were spanked far too often. Poor Tatiana was finally catching-up on languages, and provided she continued at her current rate without slaking by March or April maybe it would no longer affect her overall grades across their remaining classes.

The dropping temperatures were beginning to limit their outside activities, causing Julia to enquire about the indoor swimming pool, not that she'd used either since arriving because she'd been so crammed with homework initially. The good news was they could use either pool whenever they were open and lifeguards/instructors were present, the not so good news being that sports were nearly always done naked, similar to the gymnasium rules.

Julia went with Susana her nearest bunkmate who loved swimming to see the indoor pool.

She guessed the two ladies in charge were fairly young, probably early twenties, but there weren't really that many female staff involved in actual teaching. Miss Connors was the blonde one and Miss Brenikov had long brown hair, the outstanding issue was not only were they naked too, but they didn't have any hair where grown-ups usually grew hair, while Susana remarked they didn't have any tan-lines either. They hadn't realised how much their voices carried in the pool-room, Miss Brenikov laughingly said they were both nudists, so they only wore clothing outside in the cold weather or when socially necessary.

It was pretty large for an indoor pool with eight lanes, though still dwarfed by the larger one outside that wasn't used beyond certain fixed summertime dates because it became a nightmare to keep warm. Their first session in the pool was closely monitored as both the swimming coaches wanted to discover the proficiency of unknown swimmers.

Julia and Susana agreed it was odd at first 'skinny dipping' feeling the water flow across their skin everywhere, anyhow they both enjoyed the experience wanting to visit regularly especially if it helped sooth throbbing bottoms. Thinking about that particular topic the first months had been very difficult, even accepting the fact they'd be punished for any kind of misbehaviour. Her views hadn't really changed, and spankings weren't getting any easier to deal with, instead she'd just resigned herself to the fact they'd happen anyway.

The language lessons received in the Thomas household much like the spankings back then had in a way proved beneficial, preparing and perhaps saving her from a good many punishments suffered by others in her Grade. Her Guardian had so far made one fleeting visit in which he'd demonstrated more affection than had been apparent during all the time she'd been living with him. Apparently he really enjoyed her weekly letters even if his own replies didn't seem as newsworthy.

Sitting across his lap (fortunately the right way up) hugging her close while his other hand rubbed her thigh, he confided that she should probably include more details in her letters about her various punishments as a way of venting her emotions. Otherwise he seemed generally very pleased with reports about her social and academic progress hinting that a holiday in Lapland could be a possibility in order to see Santa over the Christmas break.

Obviously they both knew she was too old to believe in Father Christmas, but an exciting journey to the snowy north with sleigh-rides, real reindeer, and witnessing the wonder of the Northern Lights would be amazing. With that goal in mind Julia determined that her letters ought to include more detailed revelations about her punishments and her feelings about that aspect of school life, rather than just her progress in the lessons themselves which her guardian probably learned about from the monthly school reports he received.

Since making that change in her regular communications, he'd sent her longer replies in return, plus some thoughtful small gifts which had been very encouraging. For want of a better term their 'English' lessons that really dealt with writing, comprehension and classic literature had caused her to value her Thesaurus and various dictionaries from which she determined her guardian might be regarded as a disciplinarian. Seeing as she was forever using an increasing number of fancy words that 'ethos' also covered the school staff too.

Because changing the subject matter in her letters had favourable results, she had begun including details about her friends’ experiences to provide some variety, adding carefully edited items of gossip doing the rounds that were phrased to avoid the wrath of those staff members who would doubtless read her letters beforehand. There'd been a couple of cases where girls were reprimanded over the content of their letters home which needed to be rewritten therefore Julia cautiously stayed within the guidelines which were fairly self-explanatory on pages seventeen and eighteen of their handbook on school regulations.

Although her own Christmas vacation wasn't yet confirmed, they'd just had another of those one-off lectures regarding the topic of contraband to reinforce what was already clearly outlined in the school handbook. No smoking, no alcohol, no drugs, and no sort of painkillers, or numbing ointments, thus the highest order of sanctioned relief was calamine lotion even if perhaps the rubbing application proved as beneficial as the product itself.

Prescription medicines of any description were only dispensed as and when required by their nurse under guidance from Dr Raphael.

Those were considered the most important proscribed substances from which there would be truly draconian punishments that could then be followed by expulsion, and while some girls might prefer schooling somewhere else, their guardians wouldn't like that disgraceful behaviour having no recourse to refunds of their enormous annual fees paid in advance.

Lesser forms of contraband would be items considered unsuitable for girls in a particular Grade as mentioned in the handbook.

Julia knew these first Grade restrictions verbatim, which then became less repressive as you progressed through the school. Only her Grade wore the grey pinafore dresses which was their class uniform, then any protective or cold weather sportswear was provided for them anyway. About their only freedoms were casual clothing and underwear which had to conform to the rules. No shorts, jeans, or trousers other than jodhpurs for the purposes of horse-riding. All skirts, dresses, and tops to be age appropriate, modest, and to have no images or writing which might cause offence. Lastly their full-cut panties had to be either white or light pastel colours, plain, patterned, or featuring cartoon type characters.

The administrators weren't heartless as the girls were allowed to have keepsakes, photos, and a limited number of cuddly toys providing that didn't increase to become a menagerie.

With the exception of mealtimes there were few occasions when the whole student body gathered together. After dinner it wasn't advisable returning late to their Dorm for line-up, but through her enquiries regarding evening activities during the longer summer evenings she'd learned various mixed age-group sports were popular. Throughout Europe rounders was a really popular children's ballgame, which was known to any Americans as Baseball.

Julia hadn't played hockey before, nor any outdoor team sports, just skipping or kicking a ball on the waste ground beside where her granny lived, so netball in the gymnasium was her first introduction to proper organised sports.

It still felt peculiar running the obstacle course in circuits around the gym, doing exercises, and climbing the thick coarse ropes while naked. Anybody not listening to the instructions, breaking the rules, or fouling an opponent either caught a flick of the thin whippy switch, or at least a few hand spanks. They were also introduced to the vaulting horse across which the older girls might receive a punishment. It was rare for her whole Grade to be taught together in any time-tabled lessons, P.E. being one of those few exceptions, though if pitted Dorm A against Dorm B the losing team would usually get a few whacks each.

It wasn't until the second week of December that news arrived confirming her wonderful Christmas holiday trip to Lapland, a few jealous Dorm mates joking they already lived in Lapland because weren't they placed over laps quite frequently.

Julia didn't want to make any accidental mistakes, thinking her guardian had probably arranged for her absence wasn't the same as checking for herself. First she spoke with her current Dorm Master who marked it on the big wall chart, then she spoke to a secretary at the administration desk who was aware of the holiday, nevertheless she also informed all her teachers for safety’s sake.

When the morning arrived she didn't need to pack learning that her guardian had already sorted all the holiday clothing and wash-kit in her new travelling luggage which he'd bring with him when he came to collect her. Julia was filled with excited anticipation as she sat waiting in the administration area. Mr. Thomas her guardian arrived with a smartly dressed young woman who couldn't be much older than the senior girls, early twenties at most.

Lyaksandra was slim, elegant, and deferential towards Mr. Thomas, while her interactions with the staff caused Julia to imagine the young woman had visited The Institute before. After settling some formalities they were ready to begin the adventure, Julia learning that Lyaksandra held the position of her guardian's PA, or Personal Assistant, recording diary appointments and making travel bookings. Winking, the smart older girl said Julia could use her nickname Sandy, saying she hoped they'd become good friends.

They travelled directly to the airport, then later on changed planes for their final leg to Rovaniemi airport, known as Santa's airport because of its proximity to his official village.

They sat near the front of the aircraft in the big comfy seats, each time sitting beside her new friend Sandy who told her loads about the history of Finland, and about the various places they'd visit during their tour of the country. She noticed they travelled differently to other people, being whisked into nice lounges to await their flights, then porters collecting and moving their big pile of baggage, while everybody else struggled with their own cases.

Shortly after leaving the airport her guardian had Sandy take her shopping for a suitable coat and footwear, both tall warm boots for exploring and shorter ones to wear in town. They had a lovely suite on the top floor of the hotel giving them amazing views, but the long hours of travel had been very tiring. Sandy helped unpack a case that contained all new clothes suitable for the holiday, seeing as every girl's growth and measurements were constantly monitored in school they must've given Sandy her details as everything was in the correct sizes. The all-in-one soft sleep-suit was probably a bit too cosy considering the modern heated hotel, it's back-flap held by poppers might be useful for visiting the toilet, but Julia couldn't help think it would also give instant access for spankings too.

The disruption to her usual ordered schedule meant Julia didn't sleep that well also having become used to sharing a dormitory with six other girls her room felt unnaturally quiet. She hadn't given much thought to the layout of their suite having her own self-contained en suite facilities. Unaccountably restless she went to explore the big common lounge area as that large picture window faced directly north whereas her own didn't. Apparently the daylight hours were very short in Winter, getting shorter the further north you travelled.

The cloudy overcast conditions meant she couldn't see any stars let alone the northern lights which were supposed to be really pretty. In the pervading silence Julie became aware of the sounds emanating from an adjacent room, moving closer curious as to what she could hear...

“Eight, Thank-you Sir.”

Whack

“Nine Thank-you Sir.”

Whack

“Ten Thank-you Sir.”

Slowly and very gingerly Julia retreated across the lounge careful not to bump into any of the furniture, then closing her own bedroom door in a state of shock. Without doubt the voice she'd heard although strained was that of Sandy, it was also fairly plain she was being given a big-girl punishment, having learned that the older Grades got more formal punishments where they were expected to count the stokes.

It felt awkward the following morning knowing her guardian had punished Sandy, and now that she'd seen their suite consisted of only two bedrooms, which meant Sandy must be sharing a bedroom with Mr. Thomas. Eschewing room service in favour of the cosmopolitan air of the hotel's dining room, they ate from the smorgasbord of Scandinavian and Russian breakfast staples mixed with a few international favourites reflecting their guest profile.

One thing The Institute had taught her was to avoid drawing attention to herself, so Julia tried to behave normally, trying not to think about the previous night while choosing some bread, cheese, cold cuts, and fresh fruit, drinking both juice and milky tea.

While her guardian missed it Sandy seemed aware that something troubled her.

During breakfast plans were discussed, learning that Mr. Thomas would be busy working on his computer while making calls, so Sandy was taking Julia on a tour of the town plus some seasonal shopping, then the following day they'd visit Santa Claus Village together.

From the short amount of time they'd spent outdoors the previous day, they prepared for the biting chilly weather.

The main shopping area seemed overflowing with children's stores, Sandy explaining the seasonal theme and abundance of toys was maintained throughout the year, because few people could really afford to visit at the height of the Christmas festivities like themselves. The variety of games, toys, and trinkets covered every age-group, but following Sandy's suggestion they bought her guardian a few gifts before finding treats they each wanted.

Julia liked shopping especially as Sandy held a black limitless credit-card with instructions to have fun, Sandy also had a further list of instructions about which Julia was unaware. Taking a side-street they entered a strange store specialising in both fancy-dress or actual historically correct reproduction regional costumes. She wouldn't know that the style of clothing the conversation evolved to discuss had been especially commissioned some time beforehand, as Sandy asked what a moderately well-to-do schoolgirl of Julia's age might have worn in the early 1900's.

The pastel yellow smock style dress was loose fitting with a belt, being about ankle length. The proprietress suggested it would've been common at that time to have twin braids and matching hair ribbons she was able to supply. Julia enjoying this game asking what other clothes they wore, finding out even wealthy children wouldn't have many outfits, but they might have something special for church on Sundays. Julia had meant underclothes and blouses, but the woman said the dress, socks and boots would be all, though sometimes they also had bloomers.

Julia couldn't believe the bloomers, loose white cotton leggings reaching her knees with lace trimmings, shocked to find they were practically separate pieces only joined by a tape passing through a hem at waist-level which tied together at the back. This left a gap along the whole centreline from front to back. The next surprise was when Sandy asked the lady to pack the whole ensemble, saying it would be a fun reminder about historical costumes.

They went on to buy further clothing Julia could wear outside of classroom hours, plus a wide selection of panties, Julia thought to explain school rules for first Grade students, but Sandy seemed conversant with those restrictions, saying those inappropriate ones were mainly because her guardian might enjoy seeing her wear them during their holiday break.

This talk about pleasing her guardian - and Sandy's employer while choosing intimate items gave Julia the courage to mention the sounds she'd heard late the previous evening.

Looking around to ensure they weren't overheard Sandy spoke quietly.

“Mr. Thomas is both my employer and my Master, sometimes I displease him and need to be punished, at other times, like yesterday evening it was a maintenance punishment that was a little reminder that I should always behave correctly.”

“He's very good to me, and I always try my hardest to please him, so for now let's pretend you didn't hear anything last night, while you try to be the best, most obedient possible Ward Mr. Thomas could ever wish to have.”

Julia sensed that conversation was closed for the time being, deciding to continue with their stated mission of serious seasonal shopping. She did note while they bought more lingerie between them that Sandy selected some silk boxer shorts having a typical Yuletide mistletoe motif for Mr. Thomas saying it was just a little something for under the tree.

Being multilingual was particularly useful, although it seemed the shopkeepers with whom they spoke were familiar with a broad range of European languages. From comments that Sandy made, it seemed she understood several languages herself which she confirmed stating that Mr. Thomas had worldwide business dealings so her own range was slowly growing to make herself more capable during their frequent foreign travels.

When they stopped for lunch Sandy called the hotel and a concierge arrived to collect their accumulated parcels leaving them free to shop for more. The afternoon consisted of more looking than shopping, returning with only a few further bags. Sandy had received some calls throughout the day from Mr. Thomas suggesting Julia should give an impromptu show of the underwear she'd bought during their excursion, Sandy mentioning how much he'd missed giving Julia her daily bath while she'd been away studying at The Institute.

Julia wasn't really a little girl any more, she could bathe herself, though regardless of how busy he might've been while living in his enormous house he'd called that their special shared time together. Four months onwards seemed like a long time, okay she didn't have boobs or hair or anything nevertheless she was growing-up, wondering at what age would it be peculiar for a grown-up to continue giving her a bath. She posed that question to Sandy before they reached their suite.

“There isn't any age when you should feel embarrassed about being bathed by someone who cares for you ma chérie, always just enjoy the moment.”

All their accumulated baggage was lined-up ready to be sorted, Mr. Thomas giving them both an affectionate hug, then Sandy suggested he help undress Julia so she could show off her new underwear. She couldn't really object, she'd learned obedience was the safest course to avoid any disciplinary measures while studying at The Institute. She held her arms up as her various layers were removed later placing her hands on his shoulders for balance as her socks and lower garments were removed, her panties coming off last, but at least it wasn't for a spanking this time.

It was difficult trying not to feel self-conscious, standing naked in a sitting room with two grown-ups, knowing from The Institute that covering herself was not acceptable behaviour whenever you were undressed. Sandy then produced the first pair of panties for Julia's own little fashion show, stepping in as they were pulled up, smoothing out any supposed creases, then parading around and doing pirouettes for her guardian to admire, while he then felt the soft fabric for himself.

Julia didn't demonstrate her entire new wardrobe, just several varying designs which he wanted to inspect, checking the fit and feel of the material before she re-dressed though without so many layers as they'd be remaining indoors. It hardly seemed worth the bother as her guardian then decided it was now time for her bath before they went down to have dinner, as the previous evening they'd been busy settling-in and then she'd bathed herself.

Julia had long realised her guardian enjoyed the procedure of undressing her, and helping her wash, well helping wasn't correct, because he took over that task, always preferring to use his hands rather than some wash-cloth. He insisted she keep her blonde locks long for either a ponytail or braids, saying shorter hair would make her look like a tomboy.

Having washed and conditioned her hair, his hands proceeded to cover every millimetre of her frame first applying then removing the soap, which really must've proved she wasn't a boy the amount of time he'd spent cleaning her personal area.

He normally stripped-off his top when giving her a bath to save it getting wet, then placed a towel on his lap where she sat while he dried her with a second. His drying was equally as thorough as the washing, checking with his bare hands that everywhere was properly dried, posing her limbs like some bendy-toy during that process. Cleaned and dried, next he sorted through the clothing neatly arranged in the drawers to choose her underwear, socks, and dress to wear down for dinner. Told to amuse herself for half an hour he called Sandy into his own room for some urgent task that he needed her to do before mealtime.

Later as they were about to leave Julia noticed a small wet blob on Sandy's dress, Sandy wiping it away sucking her finger saying it was spilt toothpaste, although it didn't look like any toothpaste brand Julia used. Service and meals were excellent, just as you'd expect from any five-star establishment, differing from the chance eateries they encountered when travelling between destinations. Sometimes it was difficult curbing her enthusiasm, but her strict education meant she knew when her comments or social interactions would be unwelcome as opposed to those times when a response was required. Young ladies were to show decorum under all circumstances, fortunately they had topics to discuss.

Foremost was the following day's outing, then news about their onward travels throughout the remainder of the holiday. During lulls in the conversation as they were eating Julia noted an even greater range of languages spoken by adjacent diners than they'd heard while out shopping, obviously the most popular local hotel with international clientèle.

Returning to their suite her guardian sat on the large comfortable sofa with Sandy sitting on the carpet beside his feet. She could sense the tone in his voice, undress where she stood, then quickly collect her new sleeping attire from the bedroom. Believing a spanking might be imminent, she didn't hesitate placing her few garments neatly on the sofa rather than the floor and risk disapproval for being slovenly. Without comment she reappeared holding the sleepwear with its drop-down back panel.

“Do you like your new night-time apparel Julia?”

“Yes. Thank you, sir... It's very warm, useful for when we travel further north I'm sure.”

“What about the fold-down flap?”

“I imagine it's useful so as not to get too cold when going to the bathroom at night.”

“And?”

“And if I've been naughty?” she said quietly.

“Good, I see your education is leaving the correct impression. As I'm sure you'll learn not all spankings are because you've been naughty, sometimes a little reminder helps a girl to curb her propensity to misbehave. When you get older, you'll discover not all spankings end in tears, but that's for later.”

The sleep-suit was kind of nice, soft with a hood she hadn't used with funny floppy rabbit ears attached. Following directions she donned the garment knowing what was to come. Laying across his lap Sandy held her hands offering some comfort as her guardian gently rubbed her back, across her bottom and down the back of her thighs, seemingly in little hurry. Then she felt him release the poppers, the flap folded downwards, his hand stroking her bottom prior to the spanks. She wasn't required to count aloud, though she was happy enough to only receive ten, and not very hard, his hand now stroking away the sting.

“Now you've been forgiven any recent transgressions, you can tell Santa tomorrow you've been a good girl. Lyaksandra why don't you fetch your lotion so we can sooth Julia's little red bottom.”

Shortly Julia felt two hands rubbing the soothing cream across her cheeks, one which had just applied the redness, while the smaller hand must be that of Sandy who was now at her rear assisting her guardian, her bottom cheeks parting and closing with their alternate movements. She went to bed having a comforting warmth rather than the stinging heat of the punishments she'd become accustomed to over recent months.

Despite thinking she was too grown-up for Father Christmas; the whole thing was amazing and she wasn't the oldest amongst his visitors. She also realised the filter lanes took the visitors to various different 'Santa's' depending upon the extravagance of the entrance fee. Julia imagined her guardian had paid for the platinum experience, elves, pixies and some time sitting on Santa's lap talking to an old gentleman with real rather than fake whiskers.

Maybe she wasn't too old because the three of them had a wonderful day, even visiting a real stable housing Santa's reindeer.

If their hotel suite in Rovaniemi could be considered luxurious, the one at the skiing resort was even grander, split level with the double height lounge overlooked by the railed gallery leading to the bedroom suites. They had a real log fire constantly alight in the big stone fireplace, the walls made of hewn logs, with picture windows giving views of the big white mountains where skiers zoomed down at incredible speeds.

Julia had never skied before though both her guardian and Sandy seemed to know about the stuff that was needed having both skied before. This time all three of them shopped together for Julia's ski clothing. The underwear consisted of several sets of long-sleeved thermal vests, and matching pairs of ankle length pants, thick socks, then middle layers, and finally bibbed trousers called Salopettes and a jacket which had an emergency radio locator if you got covered in snow.

Sandy was saying the clothing might last two or even three seasons, but they would hire the actual ski equipment which was skis, really awkward ski-boots, pole things and a crash helmet in case she fell over. Sandy laughed saying it was 'when' she fell over as if falling was almost compulsory for anybody learning to ski.

That first evening she actually wore the regional costume they'd bought in Rovaniemi to the dining room, thankful that the other guests wouldn't know she was also wearing the traditional pantaloons that came with the dress. Her guardian suggested she wear it after he'd given her her evening bath, helping tie the drawstrings of the strange old-fashioned underwear. Later she was unsurprised to discover he wanted to spank her whilst wearing those clothes, the two individual parts of the pantaloons parting like a pair of curtains to reveal everything, providing no hindrance to any spanker, or protection to her modesty.

Again two hands applied the soothing balm, then she was sent to get changed, told she could return to sit beside the fire until bedtime. Quickly changing into her bunny-suit she stepped back onto the open landing, surprised looking down to see Sandy was sitting on the lap of her guardian. As she approached he slapped Sandy's bottom saying to make way as it was now Julia's turn.

The following morning they rose early, Sandy explaining they couldn't get fully dressed as otherwise they'd all melt. The longjohns, and long sleeved under-shirt with her Salopettes and socks were considered suitable clothing to attend breakfast in the dining room where she discovered other guests also seemed similarly half dressed. Later they all took their outer garments into the cooler boot-room where they prepared for the adventure ahead.

Mr. Thomas had a personal ski-guide for a tour of the mountains, while Julia was to have personal one-on-one lessons with Sandy joining her although apparently she didn't require any instructions having been several times before. Getting back from the gentle bunny slopes Julia was exhausted, she had fallen over plenty of times, the padded clothing and soft snow making it fun rather than scary. Nearby she'd seen ski-school instructors with anything from eight to a dozen pupils wondering how they could possibly learn anything. By the time they'd finished for the day she'd ridden both chair-lifts and buttons, having progressed to doing a few blue pistes while remaining pretty much under control.

Watching both Sandy and the instructor had made it seem so simple, though like any new skill it required practice. Julia ached in places that she hadn't previously known to exist as she removed the boots obviously meant to torture novice skiers. Phoning her guardian Sandy explained they'd returned safely and asked if she could take Julia for a sauna.

Their jackets and equipment could remain in the secure boot-room, as they traipsed into reception, had a swift hot drink, bathroom break, then gathered robes for their trip to one of the private sauna cabins. Julia wasn't sure what to expect, relying on Sandy's guidance, apparently you got naked in the little changing area, taking a small towel to sit on, then as you acclimatised to the heat it could be raised, and water could be added to raise steam. The plunge pool had been cruel, Sandy not warning her it would be so cold, then they returned for more heat torture before a final shower, wearing their robes back to their suite, carrying the clothing they'd worn earlier.

Julia wanted to ask some questions, not knowing how they'd be received, as she couldn't help but notice Sandy didn't have any hair, and she thought all grown ladies had hair down there as they'd talked about it in The Institute class regarding girls going through puberty.

Sandy answered Julia's tentative enquiry.

“Well, many girls and ladies prefer to trim or remove their pubic hair, for any of several different reasons. I started off shaving, but that left me with nasty itchy bumps, later I tried salon waxing which gave much smoother results though it can be quite painful, then finally I had everything permanently removed using laser treatments. Some still regrows, and I'll have more repeat treatments until that stops happening.”

“It was my Master's choice, so other than my eyebrows and the hair on my head, from the neck downwards – nothing. Overall it's a good thing, zero time in the bathroom messing about with razors or stupid depilatory creams, and my Master prefers me to wear minimal makeup, so that's another thing I don't need to think about unless he's tells me otherwise.

We are very lucky that he cares for us both, besides neither of us would be enjoying the exciting lives we lead without his firm guidance and generosity.”

Julia had much to think about, wondering if Sandy had also once been an orphan. Somehow that wasn't a question she felt comfortable raising right now while she digested the information about the control her guardian held over Sandy who was herself a grown-up, though on the other hand she was given many serious responsibilities, arranging stuff like this holiday and carrying about limitless credit cards to go shopping.

They spent Christmas at the ski resort hotel enjoying the lavish food plus some regional entertainers that were laid-on to complete the celebrations. Sandy had helped her choose some gifts for Mr. Thomas, and having some cash herself she'd managed to buy Sandy a small gift as well. Her guardian was pleased about the exchange of gifts, stating that her thoughtfulness towards others hadn't gone unnoticed. Later she asked Sandy if there was any policy regarding birthday or holiday gifts between Dorm mates, because she couldn't recall seeing anything in the rulebook.

Somehow she guessed Sandy would know the answer.

Apparently gift giving between students was discouraged, otherwise they'd accumulate all sorts of unnecessary frippery, the only tradition being a Dorm birthday spanking which wasn't really something to she wanted as a gift. By the time they left the resort they'd all been out skiing together, both the instructor and her guardian pleased with her progress. Sandy had said not to be intimidated by the supposed grade, or gradient of any marked piste, because any reasonably competent skier could tackle anything under good snow conditions, and their Master always chose the best places regardless of expense.

They moved further north to celebrate the New Year, having a log cabin to themselves, but staff lived nearby to provide all their meals and do domestic chores. They had glimpsed a flavour of the Northern Lights at the ski resort, though at the higher latitude it was an amazing nightly spectacular. They also got to travel on a real sleigh pulled by reindeer, go dog sledging and ride as passengers on snowmobiles, the last was too noisy, and the view was blocked by the person driving, she liked the huskies best of all.

Chapter 05

Madeline a third Grader returns from her Christmas away. (3rd Grade 11-12yo)

Madeline felt it somehow unfair to boast of her Caribbean adventure when three of her Dorm-sisters were as yet un-sponsored, although that wasn't really a problem only a third of the way through third Grade. Usually those girls between the ages of eleven to thirteen found themselves a sponsor, after that nobody seemed quite certain what might happen if some unfortunate girl didn't find somebody.

She was around the middle of her intake having her twelfth birthday on February the 2nd, for which she'd get twelve spanks and one to grow on, whatever that was supposed to mean. She hoped their February Dorm Master was one of the more lenient Masters, as by now they'd rotated through a fair number of the teachers, though occasionally she'd heard some teachers liked to follow a particular group through each rising Grade.

Hearing stories about other girl's guardians Madeline felt she held a winning lottery ticket in that he wasn't that strict providing she behaved sensibly, either pretending not to notice when he ogled all the half-naked beach candy, or otherwise inviting those younger girls over to play so he could admire them close-up. It was amusing that she could invite them over whereas people wouldn't like her guardian offering them sweeties or a cold drink.

Puberty may have arrived earlier than some of her Dorm-sisters, but her development had been encroaching very slowly, her bust still a very modest double A at best. Most beaches they'd visited were private, so going topless wasn't an issue, besides he was always happy to apply sunblock on any exposed skin. She usually called him Sir, which was actually fairly appropriate considering he had a Noble title, she herself always introduced as his Ward.

She knew the little tablets meant to regulate her cycle were really birth-control pills, it was hardly any big secret, the timing of her holiday being fortunate, as she'd read that sharks could detect the tiniest traces of blood in the water, therefore even using tampons it was ill advised to go reef snorkelling during your period. Whereas on entering second Grade they'd had the birds and bees talk, back in September the third Grade began with a far more explicit and extensive series of lectures on the aspects of sexual relationships which went way beyond any simplistic talk about reproduction and conception.

Back in first Grade she'd been so naïve thinking she was the only girl with any practical knowledge of sexual matters, she'd long since discovered the majority of sponsored girls she knew had some kind of 'special relationship' with their guardians. Madeline had been playing with Sir's cock from the age of nine, giving her first blowjob during the Christmas break four months after arriving at The Institute. Aside from some nice extra presents, he had returned the favour licking her little coin-slot snatch until her head exploded.

From then onwards they usually shared a bed on her holidays or trips back home to his mansion. He much preferred coming to her room, decorated in pink with flowery patterns on the duvet, and her childish fluffy toys lining the shelves. He really liked playing the part of the old lecher despite the fact he was in his mid-thirties; some sponsors were positively ancient by comparison. Over the summer holiday of that first Grade year, he'd investigated her secret places quite thoroughly, coming up with code words they used in their weekly correspondence, any reference to a nest meaning her pussy, while talk of about a bullseye in darts meaning her bottom, a hole he'd eased open with his cock during the Christmas break after she'd entered second Grade.

She'd been surprised he'd gone for that virginity first, but during their holiday last summer he completed the set by taking her final cherry – making her his three hole princess.

Although second Grade classes had covered a wider range of subjects once pupils became multilingual, 'Special Tuition' was available in personal subjects if, or whenever requested by a girl's sponsor or guardian. Madeline felt sure she didn't know half the breadth or scope of classes offered to those girls older than herself, but could only guess they might also include stuff that wasn't commonplace. Among third Graders like herself applying a condom to a banana using only your mouth was a skill they practised in health classes as was learning to suppress their gag reflex. For Madeline applying a condom was merely a party trick, as Sir probably wouldn't like them because it would spoil their personal bond.

They got through a whole mess of bananas, and although nobody had choked to death, they also learned about the Heimlich manoeuvre just in case. Getting tooth-marks on your banana wasn't acceptable after two months of practice and several girls had earned themselves chits for their inept performance, tooth-marks on the real thing were likely to have even more severe consequences, fortunately with nearly three years experience with cocks she could handle the situation with ease making her the envy of her Dorm-sisters.

The earlier crushes that had occurred between Dorm-sisters had gradually been replaced with further adventuresome explorations, where eventually they'd all spent time sleeping with one another. Any sleeping was probably the aftermath of satisfying orgasms caused by questing fingers and agile tongues learning about those erogenous zones discussed so often in classroom lectures. Foolishly they'd once believed they'd get into trouble for their late-night activities, obviously that wasn't the case because Sapphic expression was their main outlet between holidays spent outside The Institute.

Learning about Sappho the Greek poet of Lesbos linked the history and culture of famous figures, especially those with some sexual significance. Attitudes towards various sexual practices had varied throughout history and across geographical regions, a trend that still continued, just like changes in the clothing considered fashionable. Apparently even books or films underwent those same swings back and forth, because they'd learned during the 1970s across Denmark any forms of censorship were banned, but nowadays anyone who owned stuff from that period of publishing freedom could be in serious trouble.

A few weeks into the New Year Sophia became very excited to learn a prospective sponsor wanted to meet with possible candidates, and she was short-listed because the gentleman had a preference for strawberry blondes. Madeline was among the first to hear this news because they were currently frequent bedmates.

Being a third Grade student had brought about other significant changes which included their interactions with their Dorm Master. Aside from the evening roll call and inspection when the Master checked on their behaviour and the current state of their bottoms it was now commonplace for whoever held that post to join them in the shower. Those few girls who hadn't previously seen naked men, in particular naked men with erections, it became quiet an eye-opener. Pictures or videos in health class didn't compare with seeing them in the flesh so to speak.

Madeline also noted the un-sponsored girls of both A and B Dorms had been requested to join Masters in their private suite to perform unspecified tasks. Sophia like the others said she wasn't supposed to discuss that topic, and knowing that breaking such an instruction could have dire consequences she didn't push the subject although from Sophia's breath after one such visit Madeline guessed her friends were being given practical lessons about giving blowjobs, as bananas didn't shoot semen into a girl's mouth.

They still rotated between various regional styles of schoolgirl uniform on a fortnightly basis, but she considered the current loose red and white gingham dress with white knee socks to look rather childish, more suitable for girls under ten maybe. It was inadvisable to criticise rules from above, instead just checking her uniform of whatever description was both neat and tidy. Third Grade rules made numerous changes to Dorm behaviour, as after evening inspection they were sometimes required to change into whatever the current Master said was appropriate until bath-time.

A couple of times all they'd worn were their vests or T-shirts, bums and pussies on display the whole evening, other times only panties with chests visible from dead flat to those more developed girls having A-cups verging on B. Considering the changes since when they'd started in first Grade, they began to speculate what further changes they might expect going forwards through the higher Grades. They could only speculate because they weren't to discuss Dorm life with the lower Grades, and she imagined the same restriction continued to be applied through the school, meaning each succeeding year was a surprise.

Prior to Sophia's meeting with the prospective sponsor, she and the other candidates had been told that they weren't to be concerned if they weren't picked, because it might be considered a learning experience for further introductions over the following two years. Moderate kissing was deemed acceptable, as was acquiescence to fondling above the waistline. They were to demurely but firmly decline hands wandering elsewhere although bizarrely a trial spanking over their panties was still within the realms of those guidelines offered to the gentlemen who were considering Institute sponsorship arrangements.

Talking between themselves it seemed they could touch anything bar your pussy, although Sophia pointed out to Madeline nothing had been mentioned about whether the girls could touch their prospective future guardian, with a wink her mouth formed a circle as her head made a bobbing motion. It appeared her friend had been receiving lessons from the past two Dorm Masters, though nothing was actually said to confirm that suspicion.

There were definitely no ugly students at The Institute, suitable adjectives might range from coy, pretty, beautiful, gorgeous, and outright stunning. Being equipped with at least four languages, topped off with a first-rate academic education that included international cultural and political affairs, The Institute alumni would make graceful companions for any globe-trotting gentleman of wealth and refinement. Unstated though fairly obvious was the desire for that companion's unquestioning obedience and loyalty.

By third Grade all the girls who weren't previously convinced now knew the direction they were travelling. Their lives on leaving The Institute might have certain restrictions, but as they'd become accustomed to their station, surely there had to be worse fates than being the plaything of some international multimillionaire entrepreneur or minor aristocrat. Madeline wished her friends well hoping they could find compatible sponsors with whom they could develop a real attachment.

Everybody in their Dorm sponsored or otherwise wanted to hear about Sophia's meeting with the gentleman visitor, as this kind of information hadn't been available to them during their time in second Grade.

(Sophia's tale to her Dorm sisters)

“I hadn't known what to expect whereas the other two girls were fourth Graders so they'd met with potential sponsors previously. Anyway, I discovered those cottages over near the stables are guest quarters, and he was staying between three to five days depending on his impression of the available girls. The three of us first met him in the Principal’s office, which you could imagine was pretty formal, later we each took turns having a sort of one on one meeting with him in a private sitting room talking for about an hour answering his questions about my hobbies and interests.”

“It seemed strange being away from you lot for three days, but I shared a kind of private bedroom with the two other candidates. That was odd spending so much free time with the older girls, discovering they'd done this several times, but they didn't seem worried if it didn't work out, because most sponsors arrived from March through to June or July when all five cottages might be hosting visiting gentlemen. I saw him three more times mostly keeping up with coursework between summonses, and that's when I saw inside one of those charming looking bungalows where he was staying.”

“It was a bit awkward at first being nervous and all, even though he wasn't too old I didn't really feel that comfortable, but I didn't let that show, doing whatever he asked, and we made out some, kissing and touching. Of course my boobs were the smallest, though he liked playing with them and sucking my nipples, nearly as good as some of you lot.

I think he was just having a bit of fun, not really serious but enjoying himself anyway because he was here already and wanting to taste all the available candies.”

“Yes, he did get around to spanking my bottom, not too hard, well the lump underneath was, and he spent plenty of time rubbing my bum between spanks then again afterwards which got me a bit squishy. He didn't choose any of us, though I overheard one of the secretaries say he'd made another booking to interview further girls next month, and from what I understood the fee they pay each time is pretty expensive.”

Sophia's absence had really amounted to a long weekend, and truthfully the time spent alone or in the company of each of the older girls had allowed Sophia additional study time to read ahead of current assignments. Mr. Pennington, this month's Dorm Master chivvied them all into the shower area, his stiff cock brushing against them was obviously deliberate, later choosing a girl from the other half of the Dorm to help him with some special task in his own private suite before bedtime. He preferred them to shower an hour before lights-out so they changed into their nighties for lounging around beforehand.

Sometimes it appeared the various Master's liked to have them on display, because other changes to third Grader Dorm rules for the girls ranging from eleven to twelve was not wearing panties to bed under their nighties unless they were on their period. The extra air circulation was deemed healthier for adolescent girls, for this same reason they weren't permitted to ever wear pyjama trousers or to ever wear tights, instead real stockings or thigh-highs were considered preferable alternatives. As most girls liked to play at bedtime, either with themselves or a partner this wasn't any hardship. On enquiring Madeline soon found Sophia was again feeling more than a little bit squishy and therefore wanted to play.

Madeline was fairly certain she had a more extensive and practical knowledge of sex than the majority of her Dorm sisters, meanwhile from the night-time sounds it appeared the various couplings occurring under the covers were exploring various lovemaking positions discussed in their latest series of health class lessons. Admittedly they were all girls, but it was fun rubbing their bodies together, taking turns pretending to be the man, although mutual oral sex known as soixante-neuf worked out nicely whoever you had for a partner.

The bonds of affection had grown between her Dorm sisters, all facing similar hardships together it wasn't easy seeing how their un-sponsored friends had less privileges therefore whenever possible they tried to include those girls in the supplementary activities to which they wouldn't otherwise have access. Because Madeline was signed up for horse riding she was able to request taking along a companion rider, also other girls having guardians that funded extracurricular hobbies often arranged corresponding treats for their friends too.

Later that week they had another of their film evenings, this was a third Grade innovation as there hadn't even been a television in the previous two Dorm common rooms. It wasn't on generally, only for watching films on DVD maybe once or twice a week rearranging two big sofas plus some comfy chairs to watch that evening's entertainment. Mostly they were European art movies though some were internationally known films like Leon or Lolita.

Madeline noted they all had a central theme about one or more younger girls with an older guy as mentor or lover. Somehow those girls who'd received the most spankings that day would be requested to sit either side the current Master, then find themselves hoisted onto his lap for a cuddle during the movie. Wearing only short nighties the Master would start by rubbing their thighs then move upwards to rub their pussies causing the girls to wiggle.

She hadn't found herself in that position yet, maybe because she was rarely among those receiving the most spankings, though she wouldn't object to a good frigging because she missed having the large firmer hand of a grown man playing with her special button.

Whereas during the first two years the punishments had been really upsetting, nowadays both she and her friends were more accepting that discipline factored in their lives just like breathing, even perhaps in a way missing its presence on those occasional days when not receiving some form of chastisement.

Probably those girls going to any ordinary school wouldn't understand the slowly changing attitudes of The Institute students, then again, they'd have little reason to actually meet or heaven forbid socialise with one another. Institute students received an elite exclusive type of education that wasn't provided elsewhere which explained the phenomenal charges that were levied for each successive year. The various educational certificates or baccalaureates they achieved would be earned honestly, recognised by any college or University should their guardian or sponsor wish for them to continue in higher education elsewhere.

That was an unlikely scenario, because they'd be fully trained upon leaving The Institute, skilled as a very personal assistant, the long absences between holiday visits would mean each girl would be anxious to return home to consummate their duties.

Chapter 06

On various staff members.

Mr. Pennington had once imagined his teaching career was in tatters, an unfortunate time, and all through some careless phone messages seen by the girl's mother. The education authority of that region had enough problems already, and his instant dismissal had helped quash the entire issue meaning it never became wider public knowledge, furthermore he hadn't faced Court proceedings without the availability of hard evidence. Of course, having no possibility of a reference from his former employer meant another teaching post would be impossible because this would bring to light his dubious background activities.

When he received the mysterious offer for a job interview some months later having left teaching, he imagined it was some entrapment scam organized by her enraged parents. Astonishingly enough that wasn't the case, though he'd taken some convincing, and eight years later he still remained at The Institute, why wouldn't he be, nowhere would provide such an amazing opportunity for teachers like himself. Right from the beginning he had always enjoyed the profession, and given his innate predilections it was akin to working inside a sweet shop where he hadn't really been supposed to eat any of the candies.

Now those candies ranged from the very freshest softest candies, for which there were certain restrictions which even he had to obey, through to those sweetmeats that were beginning to show subtle curves. His own tastes had perhaps been redirected, one might even say educated having literally tasted many exciting little morsels, while they in turn had been introduced to some new flavours themselves. Those third Graders often found the taste a little bitter or salty for their delicate palates, but if that hadn't been resolved by the time they reached fourth Grade, then that aspect of their education was intensified.

Gunter worked in the stables, he'd always had a love for equestrian sports, and prided himself on his knowledge about the care and training of horses. His build precluded him ever becoming a professional jockey, and obviously he'd never play polo because that was the reserve of the wealthy. The Institute actually owned some fine stock ranging from the smaller ponies for the second Graders through to mounts suitable for the most experienced older pupils. If that wasn't sufficient responsibility they currently had seventeen stalls that held some of the finest horseflesh money could buy.

Seventeen students had persuaded their wealthy guardians that they couldn't be parted from their favourite horse while away from home, and the additional cost of shipping the creature with all the associated red-tape plus the stabling fees meant these girls were thoroughly spoiled. Actually, those girls were prime fillies themselves, even the ones found in orphanages or whatever. He and his willing team of guys looked after mounts and riders teaching the basics, then leading to jumps, cross-country, or even Dressage for those with the perseverance and necessary skill level.

Like the students themselves Gunter and his team lived under strict rules, but considering their pay and perks nobody complained. They were permitted to administer spankings to any girls they were tutoring, or any student who misbehaved while visiting the stables or paddocks. Constantly working with such tempting young ladies caused a certain build-up of pressure which was offset by those darlings from fourth Grade upwards who needed to polish their oral skills. He certainly appreciated their efforts otherwise he wouldn't last five minutes with the older Grades who were required to demonstrate several more advanced skills that they acquired in their 'health' classes.

Oleksander was one of the four chefs working in the main mansion catering team that fed the students, teachers, and administration staff. The housekeeping staff, groundsmen, and outdoor workers had their own canteen attached to the accommodation block where they all had their own rooms. His own employment record suffered after it was discovered he'd molested several young trainee waitresses, those girls had all been willing participants, but petty jealousies between them caused a massive shit-storm, and he'd caught the flack.

He didn't regret moving away from the exclusive restaurant sector to find himself working in an exclusive academic establishment because he got rather hands-on with those few select older students whose patrons decided Cordon bleu kitchen skills would round out their Wards educational achievements. He'd basted his cock in some fine girls from the seventh to ninth Grades, far classier than the tarty little waitresses from his past, besides this place taught them some amazing talents.

Luka's parents would shudder to learn he was nothing but a humble grounds man, though he'd never liked working in the family's city based florist business. The mysterious letter from his cousin Taras had prompted the move, hardly believing that his wayward friend wasn't stretching the truth, later discovering he'd actually toned down the reality of the situation as the truth itself was unbelievable. Firstly the location was really pretty stunning, being an established estate of a once resplendent country house, though in this particular case it wasn't the faded glory of a grandiose past, but somewhere lovingly restored thus demonstrating its splendour and magnificence through having a revived purpose.

Working in the florists hadn't been that awful, his artistic flair in producing glorious floral displays had possibly caused some people to imagine he might be gay, that was far from the truth as his cousin Taras well knew, they both liked being surrounded by young ladies. Certainly under normal circumstances this place might be considered torture, its just they worked in conditions that were far from ordinary. They didn't need to arrange a ride to the nearest train station then visit some distant metropolis to get their ashes hauled.

Four or five times a week they could be balls deep in prime teenage pussy, or otherwise have those willing darlings give them enthusiastic blowjobs. It wasn't any wonder that the letter from Taras had been so subtly worded harking on about the beautiful estate and great working conditions. You couldn't boast about the reality of the situation; A, because nobody would believe you, and B, you'd be in a world of trouble if anybody believed what actually happened at The Institute. Doubtless with their connections everything would be hushed-up, but you wouldn't want to shit on your own doorstep by ending the dream.

Even having a large team with modern machinery they worked long hours maintaining the impressive grounds, back in the eighteen hundreds they must have needed several times the staff to complete that task. He had other reasons to be thankful, his florist background meant he taught a few flower arranging classes for some of those gorgeous darlings.

Often he would stand behind one of those precious babes, leaning over to help with their display, his hard cock pressed against their butt clad in one of those fancy uniforms, and they wouldn't make a whisper of complaint. In reality he was only teasing himself knowing that later during the day some form of sexual release was bound to be available.

Carlos was another person who had barely managed to avoid the law, having once run his own hair and beauty salon, the range of treatments always expanding. Hairstyling, facials, nails, tanning, and personal waxing. It had been surprising that some women didn't object whenever no female waxer was available to complete their treatment, and Carlos had then provided the service, with some clients he'd kissed it better afterwards. His reputation had spread with a growing list of clients, and somehow every year they tended to get younger until it got to the point where they hardly had that much hair to remove anyway.

He'd never actually considered the legality or otherwise regarding his youngest clients, nor that they wanted the same special attentions that he'd lavished upon their older sisters. Unfortunately, they weren't as discrete as those older teenagers which lead to his sudden need to move abroad when he learned the salon was under investigation.

Nowadays he ran a very similar salon though it wasn't a commercial enterprise just part of the in-house services of The Institute. Mostly his current 'clients' were the young students themselves, but he could hardly complain about providing a smart coiffure for any of the staff whether ladies or gentlemen.

Baxter held two roles, primarily concerning security because of his law enforcement links, and knowing people in that country's own shady legal and security branches which meant there wouldn't be any unexpected visitors arriving in suits or uniforms. His secondary role entailed keeping his ear to the ground among a network of people associated with child detention centres and orphanages, receiving photographs and videos of likely prospects. The media would be shocked to discover just how little money changed hands in certain poor countries to obtain some pretty young waif whose life otherwise looked doomed to constant poverty and a bleak future.

Being purely pragmatic he was doing them a favour, and those people running some down at heel operation meant to be guarding the welfare of various youngsters would have a little more cash to spend. Whether any of that cash benefited the remaining kids wasn't really his concern, but regulars in the trade learned it was in their own interest to ensure the girls were adequately fed and cared for because nobody would consider unhealthy and undernourished girls as they might prove too problematic.

Baxter realised it was difficult for those un-sponsored incomers, though without exception they quickly discovered this was a golden opportunity even if life seemed harsh at the beginning. They were literally hungry to change their circumstances, so without exception since The Institute opened, they'd never regretted the decision to source girls through an alternate route. The very few who couldn't cope academically joined a different training regime to eventually become part of his own recruitment network. Having had an inside viewpoint themselves they were better able to evaluate girls in the field which is why they had such a slim failure rate of girls entering their system.

Sir Gregory had impeccable international contacts among the wealthy elite, he also knew many backwaters of cyberspace frequented by fellows who'd be attracted to those special bespoke services offered by The Institute. Vetting and scrupulous background checks in conjunction with his colleague Baxter ensured they didn't land themselves with a ringer. Although Wards of their clients provided the mainstay of each year's intake any downturn in those numbers was rectified through Baxter's own nefarious channels.

For himself he much preferred the older students as bedfellows, though never making any disparaging remarks concerning the foibles of others, as those of say 'broader' interests provided the majority of their clientèle. Un-sponsored girls rising through the system didn't contribute any useful revenue stream until reaching third or fourth Grade, as by that point they'd received sufficient education to know the score, becoming more attuned to their direction of travel. Those girls of eleven to thirteen were beginning to blossom, showing their future potential, besides they were mature enough they wouldn't misbehave at the thought of meeting prospective gentlemen sponsors.

Gregory's carefully vetted suitors liked playing the game, almost never choosing the first girl once presented in person, usually staying a couple days for introductory meetings with two or three young candidates. Sometimes the wealthier clients would actually sample several girls across the two Grades before reaching any final decision. Just recently one of the gentlemen made the unusual choice of taking on two fourth Grade girls which caused some changes that had never occurred beforehand. Swapping one girl from Dorm A into Dorm B, because he wanted them to become much closer companions exclusively sharing a bed together until such times as they would become his full-time personal attendants.

The two girls concerned weren't unduly perturbed being as sisterly relationships were both commonplace and encouraged, although they weren't previously familiar to one another in that sense through sleeping in adjacent Dorm rooms. Guardians or sponsors could to an extent tailor the education of their girl's well beyond the standard curriculum, an extensive menu of additional activities or courses were available, though hardly exhaustive.

Anything that an imaginative mind could devise they would endeavour to provide.

The students ongoing sexual education advanced throughout their progression through the various Grades, till their graduating students reached a pinnacle that rivalled that of the world's finest courtesans. Admittedly not every client permitted their girls to partake of every lesson, sometimes placing restrictions on their vaginal or anal virginities, or in some way believing The Institute might overuse those assets or otherwise just unwilling to share the orifices of their little darlings with various instructors. Given tight untutored students or talented trained girls in their later teens he'd choose the latter category every time.

Irina worked in housekeeping, to most people she remained invisible because of her lowly status. That was her situation at The Institute, while in the local village her parents were inordinately proud that their teenaged daughter worked for the most prestigious employer within many kilometres in any direction, because the village and surrounding countryside held little in the way of rewarding job opportunities. Her former male school-friends were forced to seek employment further afield living in distant cities meant visits home were fairly infrequent. Despite the closeness she actually lived in the staff accommodation block in a room she shared with three other girls doing similar menial jobs, but she visited her family at least twice a week.

To most people within the village The Institute was somehow mythical and mysterious, only aware it was some exclusive and private school for young ladies which was why they were so fanatical about security and privacy. Having worked there for eighteen months Irina had now reached her own conclusions, recalling something she'd once read in one of those papers which liked to print scandalous stories about the rich and famous.

You can either employ staff – or you can retain your privacy, you can’t have both!

Well, she and her friends on the staff knew things, they heard and saw what occurred, and the bedding or clothing arriving in the laundry told its own tales. Despite the number of regular punishments and everything else that happened the students didn't really seem to be that unhappy about their situation. As for Irina, she would never tell when she passed out through those wrought iron gates headed towards the village, she left behind all their dark secrets, not telling her parents, her best friends, or anyone else. Whatever happens in The Institute stays there, besides her folks and everybody else relied upon that place.

The truth was The Institute and the former land owners long before them owned both the village and farms all about, so falling from favour would find you homeless and destitute.

Chapter 07

Helena a fourth Grade student. (4th Grade 12-13yo)

Within the first month of becoming a fourth Grade student Helena and her cohort were each scheduled for a visit to the beauty salon run by Mr. Carlos, obviously Carlos wasn't really his surname, but you respectfully addressed all staff as they wished to be addressed and didn't ask questions. Helena having just turned twelve shortly before the beginning of September was the youngest in her Dorm, and although less developed than her older Dorm sisters she was proud of her slight smattering of light pubic hair and slowly growing boobs. She wasn't looking forward to yucky periods which had yet to arrive, but she felt more feminine now having some soft curves that marked her progress into adolescence.

The news, when told about the salon, had been devastating though not entirely unexpected from having seen older Grade girls using either of the swimming pools. Frankly she hadn't given it much thought, imagining perhaps it was a fashion thing, although that wasn't the case. Upon entering Grade four all pubic hair had to be removed aside from any particular girls whose guardian or sponsor objected to full depilation which included anything apart from the hair on your head and neat eyebrows.

Apparently this was normally prearranged, preference details would be recorded on your personal file in the office, her recently acquired sponsor having ticked the box marked waxing. It seemed so unfair, like being a nine-year-old all over again although these days her labia were a little more pronounced, and now more visible with her nascent little grove of short curly hairs missing. Complaining about the inevitable only resulted in spankings or some form of punishment, so you accepted whatever fate decreed.

She'd acquired her own sponsor rather late towards the end of third Grade, as gentlemen visitors mostly arrived early to mid-summer, but he'd arrived towards the end of August on a mission, choosing to see all the available third and fourth Graders. They all realised this was a competition, some girls willing to fight dirty, risking breaking the rules with all that entailed if it was discovered. Anyway she hadn't thought she stood a chance with the girls willing to risk anything to secure a sponsor, though it turned out it was her he wanted.

His surname took some practice to pronounce, though he preferred her to call him either Sir, or if they were alone - Daddy. Another discovery had been the prohibition on intimate touching went out of the window once he'd signed-on to become her sponsor, that wasn't anything new because the Dorm Masters had been giving her pussy plenty of attention during the past year. Actually after getting a hard spanking she would become quite wet in anticipation with regard to the playtime which might occur afterwards.

Last year during third Grade changes had occurred in the way Dorm Masters behaved towards them, no longer just ogres always handing out punishments, instead becoming more human. It was crazy to imagine she might actually become more embarrassed, but that first time all sharing a shower with their Dorm Master had been freaky, though soon it simply settled into part of their regular routine. She remembered how each month they compared one Master with another, discussing their cocks, or how hairy they were.

The first time she entered the Dorm Master's quarters she was forewarned what to expect even though they weren't meant to discuss what happened. That's when she received her first practical instructions about giving blowjobs. She really hadn't liked the taste nor the way it erupted so suddenly, theory in health class helped otherwise she would've panicked.

She knew that spitting it out wasn't an option, that being considered very poor etiquette, insulting even, she bravely gulped it all down showing him her empty mouth, afterwards thanking him properly, as semen was apparently full of useful nutrients for growing girls.

Everybody knew un-sponsored girls were treated differently, it was explained she received a 'free-ride' with regard to her education, accommodation, food, clothing, everything in fact, so her meagre weekly allowance, or limited access to supplementary activities wasn't really discrimination. Luckily, they'd sometimes be treated by one of their more fortunate Dorm sisters to join them doing the exciting activities. Now she'd be able to partake in the extracurricular hobbies and stuff she'd discussed with her own sponsor, him having agreed to the direction of her ongoing education, and the skills he wanted her to learn.

She had demonstrated how thankful she was at gaining a sponsor with some extended blowjobs over the time he stayed to arrange all the paperwork. Her initial dislike of semen at the beginning of third Grade was soon overcome with practice, and she knew those girls having guardians were usually fairly experienced at blowjobs and at other bedroom skills which she had yet to learn. Her new 'Daddy' couldn't arrange any trip away for the Christmas break, though he did visit her and they had three days together in one of the cottages that dotted the estate. Apparently he intended to take her on holiday for two or three weeks during the summer when he intended to enjoy her body to the full, taking both her pussy and her bottom with his fat uncircumcised cock.

As with her first blowjob, knowing stuff, and doing things for real were quite different, but at least she knew the theory and would receive plenty of advice beforehand. For now her file probably held a note saying 'do not open' well maybe phrased differently, though after her holiday he wanted her to undergo thorough training in the use of her muscles, those ones called Kegals, as apparently this would make sexual activities even more pleasurable.

Her mind kept returning to those third Grade experiences, for her it had gone well, and it had ended brilliantly, but others had found the changes in training harder, especially those who didn't overcome their dislike for semen. Anita in particular struggled, saying that the gloopy texture made her want to gag, while everyone provided their own advice on how to cope with her problem. Eventually she went into the intensive program, and ended up providing the stable-hands and groundsmen regular blowjobs. Giving between five to eight blowjobs one after another seemed to resolve her problem, as after the second week she complained about jaw-ache having forgotten about the taste or texture. As it turned out they all received some similar endurance training which the outdoor staff seemed to enjoy.

That had been their introduction to pink chits, the yellow ones related to disciplinary stuff like spankings, slipperings, or more recently the paddle, whereas pink chits were about aspects of their sexual education. Any member of the teaching faculty might issue a pink chit with details of who you were to visit, and whatever skills you needed to practice. Typically for blowjobs it might say to visit either the stables or the groundsmen’s work cabin then provide anybody present with your oral services, if there weren't many staff about they'd call others on their radios advertising a work-break for coffee and crumpet.

Inevitably most of their remaining number would arrive during the time you served those currently present, and they'd each sign the chit giving a score plus various comments.

A chit might be marked, Attitude – sullen; Ability – poor; Overall score and comments 4/10 lacklustre performance. This was likely to earn the student a yellow chit while the girl in question would expect many repeat pink chits until she received glowing commendations.

Being a 'smoothy' entailed visiting the salon at least every four weeks, for those girls with a more pronounced or darker growth leaving it any longer would become noticeable, but for those like herself with finer pussy hair there was sometimes hardly enough emergent hair for the wax to grip. Evening roll-call had of course changed, you still lined-up bent over for bottom inspections, then handed in your completed yellow or pink chits while your details were entered onto the wall-chart.

Unsurprisingly there was a new embarrassing element to the latest inspections where the Dorm Master would also feel your pudendum, that being the correct term for her mound and the area around her pussy. Despite the wall-chart showing every personal detail of their lives like their punishments, menstrual cycle where applicable, plus their last waxing appointment it was still considered necessary for a careful daily manual inspection.

As if that wasn't bad enough the gusset of your panties would be inspected to discover how much you'd been lubricating that day.

Physiology wasn't included among their curriculum, though if it had been Helena and her fellow students might've known about Ivan Petrovich Pavlov, and his experiments in what became known as Pavlovian conditioning. His dogs heard a bell rung shortly before they were fed, till eventually they would begin to salivate whenever they heard that sound. Students rising through the Grades from their third year onwards began to receive some pleasurable stimulation after their more intense spankings or punishments, therefore the new checks were actually about determining the effectiveness of their training.

Eventually all the girls responded to discipline by becoming sexually aroused, they couldn't help the natural reaction of becoming wet through association, as harder spankings were frequently followed by a soothing application of lotion and those wandering fingers would then play between the girls splayed legs providing a source of pleasure and relief.

Another physiological factor arising in the harsh environment of The Institute was praise they received from providing any staff member with an enthusiastic blowjob, it increased their self-esteem, providing a boost to their natural endorphins, the feel-good hormones.

On the subject of hormones those students approaching the secondary levels of their sexual education who'd not begun menstruating like Helena found themselves having an additional appointment with Dr Peterkiewicz. Sometimes he'd have the nurse take regular urine samples for testing to determine when hormones indicated ovulation was imminent, but to ensure safety when clients wished to have full sexual relations with the younger girls not yet taking birth control pills, he had suitable alternative solutions available.

Helena had been looking forward to the promised summer holiday with her sponsor whom she'd call Daddy for the duration of their time outside The Institute. A fortnight before that circled date she found herself naked in the doctor’s office, legs up in the stirrups while he inspected her vagina and cervix making comments that the nurse added to her growing medical file. She'd been told what was happening, he was going to fit an IUD which meant she couldn't accidentally become pregnant if her body should unexpectedly produce any eggs, although the doctor thought that unlikely at present, but he wouldn't speculate on when her periods might begin, it remained a waiting game.

After the procedure she was just a little sore, and the nurse actually gave her a pain tablet that she had to swallow while the nurse watched, any medications especially those meant for numbing pain were strictly monitored. In previous health classes they had discussed just about every contraceptive option currently available, even looking into the history of the subject. Apparently the pill and an IUD weren't incompatible, but when her periods eventually started she wouldn't necessarily swap between methods of contraception until her body had a little time to adjust. If her periods didn't settle within four or five months then she'd be started on the pill to regulate her cycle.

They'd learned in class that the latest contraceptive pills usually prescribed to the students actually minimised their periods and reduced the discomfort, whereas some brands could eliminate periods altogether, but apparently opinions varied as to whether that might have untold consequences over a longer time scale, so for now those types were avoided.

Helena didn't want to dwell on that subject as it was difficult enough concentrating on her school-work with thoughts of her exotic beach holiday drawing ever closer. She had never even seen the sea before, but Miss Connors and Miss Brenikov ensured all their students became confident in the water, first learning to swim, slowly improving overall endurance until they passed their life savers certificate. Apart from the two regular swimming pools there was one narrow flow-tank having a variable current to swim against, and they could also create waves to simulate beach conditions.

Since becoming sponsored her extra pool coaching also included the basics in scuba diving because that was one of his favourite hobbies, this would eventually lead to her achieving a recognised certification. For now she just carried a small laminated C-Card that showed her training had just started listing her as a beginner. With Miss Connors being a certified instructor her time spent underwater learning could be entered into a logbook which any responsible dive master would want to check before allowing her on a commercial trip.

Being as Miss Connors and Miss Brenikov were both established nudists they oversaw her own exposure to the sun beside the outdoor pool in preparation for trip abroad to sunnier climes. High factor sun screen and avoiding the noonday sun as her skin slowly developed a light tan. Needless to say, as all sports were performed naked she had no untanned parts or visible bikini areas. Currently she didn't even own any swimwear, but in their exchange of letters her sponsor was looking forwards to helping her choose undies and swimwear.

In preparation she did have her own colourful wetsuit which had been personally tailored, and she'd been reading-up about other beach related activities like surf boarding.

She wasn't that concerned about losing her virginity, her friends saying it might only pinch a little because her hymen was practically non-existent. Her anal virginity however was something else, in health class she'd been presented with an ascending set of oddly shaped bulbous toys that were called butt-plugs. With the aid of some slippery lubrication she had been progressing from one to the next in order that her bum could cope with something hard going in the opposite direction than that to which it was accustomed.

Actually she'd seen butt-plugs beforehand with some of her Dorm sisters owning their own sets which often saw service shortly before going away on holidays, preparing themselves when they hadn't experienced anal sex for a while. As her own holiday adventure drew closer time seemed to slow down, with her counting off the days.

Eventually she was sitting in the administration office awaiting his arrival jumping at the sound of his voice, bubbling over with excitement, throwing her arms around him.

“Your pleased to see me my bambina?”

“So happy, so excited I could wet myself.”

“Um interesting, I'll save that idea for later, for now we must be away to the airport.”

Matron Wallace had helped Helena pack for the trip, her bespoke wetsuit, her logbook plus a couple of changes of underwear, skirts and tops for travelling, together with her wash-kit that contained a newly acquired item called a douche that had been discussed in health classes, making it easier to stay fresh when sexually active. To Helena it seemed her new Daddy was equally excited as herself regarding the prospect of clothes shopping while they were away, writing about it in the majority of his letters.

All she had to remember was her new surname as her Daddy's daughter, and the details of a basic back-story, if questioned passing through customs. The Institute had plenty of experience planting documents in backwater provinces to validate their 'acquired' students in such a manner that legitimately proved their relationship to the people who effectively became their new owners. This paper trail made passport applications relatively straight forward when these documents were corroborated by friendly local officials.

The last thing her new Daddy wanted was to face questions about child trafficking!

Helena in common with all originally un-sponsored girls had never before travelled by air, as that would've entailed producing official documents that mysteriously vanished around the time she first arrived at The Institute, besides that paperwork wouldn't have included any passport. Nobody could accuse The Institute of being anything but thorough in their curriculum, so girls like Helena were given extensive classes about foreign travel, and what procedures to expect at airports when dealing with airline staff or officialdom.

Unsurprisingly they utilised the premium lounge when passing through airports, turning left on entering the larger wide bodied jets to be fawned over by numerous friendly staff who welcomed her Daddy by name, pleased to meet his charming young daughter asking that she call for any service she required during their journey.

They weren't staying in one location, but visiting a few select coastal resorts which didn't cater to the average tourist, making small hops in a charter plane, or aboard a yacht that belonged to a friend. Viewing the amazing crystal blue waters from the top floor garden balcony of their hotel was breathtaking, and everything else about the experience made her feel like a princess. On hearing her comments he promised to find some clothing to echo that sentiment when they went shopping.

The magnificent suite actually had more beds than required Helena knew she'd be sharing throughout their trip, and probably on numerous other occasions too. When the time came she wasn't really that nervous standing there in a short white nighty and matching tiny tie sided panties, remembering her lessons that it was about image and presentation, a gift for her Master to unwrap and enjoy.

It wasn't like some soppy romance story, she hadn't really expected that for a moment, he was slow and kind, and gentle. The tingles of anticipation rose with his big hands touching her, his kisses, then he began licking her pussy. These actions weren't by any means new or unforeseen, being as she'd experienced these pleasures both with her Dorm sisters, and with several Dorm Masters. It wasn't that men or girls made better partners, simply that they were just different, everything about grown men was bigger, sometimes it seemed overwhelming, with their sense of strength and power.

He was impressed she'd been so well behaved, playing the part of the demure daughter, as if international travel were an everyday occurrence, given away by her grip on his hand during that first take-off. Now about to lose her virginity she maintained her composure, so willing for one so young, still two months shy of her thirteenth birthday. He'd enjoyed younger girls in Asian countries, though fleeting dalliances, and certainly unsuitable for unprotected sex, whereas this girl had a known recorded provenance. While she could be his alone, instead he'd chosen for her to be extensively educated in the arts of pleasure.

Having selected Helena last August he'd only spent a brief further visit back in December, although that confirmed she was obedient and compliant without being a robot, showing her personal individuality and charming nature. The Institute had explained the paperwork couldn't be rushed, the final results 'proving' Helena was his daughter through an affair occurring at the relevant time. Her mother not contacting him about her condition, dying shortly after the birth, then his later 'discovery' of the situation when trying to rekindle the former relationship with her mother. The following papers then showed his legal adoption of his own natural child.

Bureaucracy could grind exceedingly slow, even for the very wealthy, which is why he'd been advised to keep longer distance travel arrangements on hold till the summer months. Looks like he surprised his little bambina, suggesting she lay above him rather than the missionary position where he felt his bulk would be too oppressive. Her cleft appeared to be ready, her natural lubrication evident to his tongue, having her apply lubricant to his own eager member. First sliding back and forth ensuring they were both slippery before she backed-up towards his spear, the exquisite pressure, her lips constrained to part from the steady onslaught.

She could do this, they discussed all the various positions, and girl on top was considered an ideal option for a girl's first introduction to 'intercourse' which was the medical term for fucking. She reached back to assist placing her Daddy's fat cock just so, steadying herself and trying to relax her muscles like in the health classes. Ow, that stung a bit, she looked into his eyes they connected, an unspoken communication, the deed was done, well not really, reaching back to her stretched pussy it seemed only the head of his cock was inside her. She found herself enfolded in his arms, his hands moving to her bottom helping to set small movements as his big fat cock slowly moved deeper.

It took incredible willpower to hold off from ejaculating, the stimulation of her tight sleeve was phenomenal, the look of wonder in her eyes, so many emotions flitting across her cute adorable features as she discovered what it felt like to be penetrated by a man for the first time. He felt it was unlikely she would achieve orgasm, distracted by the newness of the experience, and perhaps some discomfort, for himself that wouldn't be the problem.

They settled into a slow cadence, watching his little nymphet process the feelings while he sweated on holding back, worried his movements might become too vigorous.

She could understand why people liked sex, all the sex stuff she'd done to date had been leading towards this point. A place deep inside was filled with a part of the man she was clinging onto, they were hot, close, moving together, warm feelings of growing excitement with the constant pressure on her bean, her clit, the centre of pleasure. She could see that Daddy was happy, at the same time strained, she knew that look from giving blowjobs, as you were meant to look at their face. Men made such odd faces when they spurted their stuff, that and their balls clenching upwards were the clues it was about to happen.

He was calling her name as she felt his cock expand inside, those pulses she normally felt with her hand as the semen pumped out in sudden spurts. For the first time instead it was her pussy rather than her mouth receiving a man's gloopy offering, not a taste sensation but a feeling of heat and additional wetness making movement easier.

She lay there processing her thoughts, doing it herself was a mixture of stuff her friends had talked about, but they were right in that she wouldn't really know until having tried it for herself. Okay it hadn't been painful, not really uncomfortable even, well just a bit at first, but classes had explained your body and emotions would adapt until orgasms were more likely to occur over time with more practice. Maybe she would like to practice.

His nymph had been remarkably quiet, he spoke asking if she was okay, she was smiling at him saying it was better than she'd imagined, sitting up then leaning forward to kiss when his deflated cock parted company from her hot tight cavern, their combined fluids spilling onto his stomach. She squealed holding one hand to her crotch as she disappeared towards the bathroom dribbles of sperm visible on her slim thighs causing him to laugh at her sudden realisation that sex could be so messy.

Helena had spent the night wrapped safely in his arms her head on his chest at times she woke to the steady beat of his heart, the following day feeling a little sore as he playfully teased her about her new status as a 'woman' asking if he should kiss it better later, as he wanted her to feel recovered before any repeat performance. They did plenty of clothes shopping at the designer boutiques having all the top labels, her Daddy saying she could return with some items while others would fill her wardrobe at home. She asked about where he lived, then looked at pictures on his phone showing several beautiful places he called home that were dotted around Europe.

His little darling had been so coy the following morning that he couldn't help teasing her, but the thought of shopping cleared everything else from her mind. The limousine which had been provided by the hotel became nothing more than a glorified shopping cart, as it followed them down the main thoroughfare, stopping beside those shops catering to the tween market. Regardless of their image those stores were as Walmart compared with the outlet where he'd booked an appointment next. Looking from the outside to be a private residence, few people knew it existed, much like The Institute and having similar clientèle.

On being admitted to the foyer he told Helena they could be themselves without hiding their true relationship because this establishment served the paramours of those people like himself who had 'nieces or daughters' wishing to buy intimate apparel. The lady who greeted them introduced herself asking which language Helena preferred when talking about clothing and accessories, suggesting Chloe in salon three would prove an excellent assistant to help them choose a suitable wardrobe for such a blossoming young lady.

Helena felt they were in a wonderland unrelated to any previous notion of shopping as her Daddy sat on a comfortable sofa sipping freshly brewed coffee, while she'd been given a menu listing a variety of hot or cold drinks. The plush surroundings were like some private sitting room, Chloe being so friendly like some favourite aunt or big sister, not that Helena had ever had either one. At Chloe's direction she got undressed and was then thoroughly measured head to toe, from hat size to the proper fitting for shoes.

While having her feet measured Helena wondered whether her pussy appeared swollen or reddened from her activities the previous evening blushing at the thought, her Daddy then calling her over as she whispered in his ear what had caused her distinctive blush which was pretty noticeable when you were standing around naked. He hauled her onto his lap as he kissed her in a very un-father-like fashion proudly telling Chloe about the situation, with the young woman coming over kissing her and offering her congratulations.

Having already determined Helena's sizes Chloe said she had a special gift pertinent to the occasion returning with some beautifully embroidered panties with the inscription 'Virgin'  in flowing script while underneath it said in much smaller writing – (not really!), that made them all laugh. Chloe then said they carried many lines with humorous pictures or words on the garments, though would happily produce any bespoke designs or wording that their clients wanted. There were nice silky robes clients could wear between fittings but Helena felt comfortable enough standing about naked or sitting on her Daddy's lap.

Ipads on a side table showed their range of clothing and accessories which she and her Daddy found fascinating, having naughty underwear that older women might wear, though going down to sizes which would fit girls some years younger than herself. They also had a range which she thought of as particularly childish that came in sizes that would even fit someone like Chloe who must be in her early twenties. The section labelled fetish-wear had lots of leather or PVC outfits that certainly couldn't be worn outside the home, and there were all kinds of restraints, strange toys, and stuff called bondage accessories.

In that section Helena had recognised some of the items that adorned the walls of the dungeon where Mr. Stanislav issued the punishments earned by those finding themselves the recipient of a yellow chit. These topics had been discussed with Daddy during their earliest meetings, then again since, discovering he preferred to chastise naughtiness with a hand spanking, saving the cane for if she really misbehaved. Fortunately her Daddy was more concerned about finding fun and sexy stuff which she modelled for him, positive that ordinary stores didn't allow customers to try on underwear. Not that it mattered because everything went on their growing pile of purchases anyway.

Watching Helena cavort about as she changed from one item to another was delightful, as she sought his approval, Chloe often sending her over so he could feel how the fabric felt as it clung to her subtle sylphlike contours. His usual response being to order those more interesting items in multiples, asking for the same again in a range of colours which suited his young nymph. Shopping with Helena was far preferable to shopping with some spoiled grown woman who'd spend ages without making a decision. Apparently Institute students were taught the purpose of shopping was solely to please the person paying the tab, and not to push their boundaries if that person were to become bored.

Browsing the fetish section he did settle on a couple of discrete chokers which wouldn't necessarily raise eyebrows in public, and some less subtle collars with various attachments for his amusement. For his further entertainment he'd had Chloe bring out a selection of various canes having Helena choose which one they would purchase, her reluctant choice was somewhat surprising, the whippy nature would impart more sting than the others on offer. Then she handed him the cane and bent over lowering the delicate panties she was currently modelling and awaited her fate grasping her ankles.

Helena wasn't best pleased when asked to select a cane, but considering the holiday, and the vast fortune her Daddy was spending on clothing it would be churlish on her part to deny him the opportunity to utilize this purchase bracing herself to receive six strokes.

Swish...

“One Thank-you Daddy.”

Waiting, the second seemed to take forever as she felt a finger trace the line across her bottom, knowing a line must be visible - though herself not in a position to view the stripe in any of the mirrors placed about the room.

“Stand up honey, there aren't any more, in fact you've been very well behaved.”

Standing she hugged him to show there were no hard feelings, the panties remaining at half-mast as he lovingly stroked her bum easing the sting of the single mark. Then easing back she removed the panties for whatever item was next as she heard Chloe speak-up.

“Sir if you wanted to continue, I've been naughty getting you to spend so much money.”

“Thank-you Chloe, but no. I appreciate the sentiment, and I'd intended to ensure Helena had a diverse wardrobe anyway. Your devotion to customer service will be reflected in your tip and my comments to the owner of this establishment. This trip is about bonding with my daughter you understand.”

“Of course, Sir, I perfectly understand, Helena is a delight, and personal time together is so precious. Are there any further items you would like to see today?”

They didn't leave with masses of parcels, everything being delivered to their hotel, though instead of wrapping it came neatly arranged in a set of matching luggage which forestalled dealing with that issue themselves. They dined out early that evening, again seemingly everyone knew her Daddy, receiving personal attention from the maître-d who arranged a little tasting plate when Helena couldn't decide what to have. A sommelier had suggested wine for Daddy, and something sweeter diluted with water to compliment her own meal.

Their etiquette coach would doubtless label the restaurant sophisticated and elegant, and she was thankful for those lessons which prevented her making any serious social faux-par which would cause her Daddy any embarrassment. Afterwards they sauntered back along the Promenade towards their hotel holding hands, interrupted by a sudden ringtone.

Answering the call, he looked up at the hotel facade, pointing towards two figures looking over the balcony, Helena realising they must be in an adjacent suite, while overhearing the conversation about joining them for a nightcap.

He didn't want to discuss personal matters in the hotel lobby regardless of their renown discretion, telling Helena that a friend, Mike, was staying with Yumi his young oriental ward, and they'd been invited around for fun and cocktails. Helena catching his expression asked sensible questions, her awareness growing about the circles in which she was travelling.

Her etiquette coach hadn't covered these situations so she enquired how he wanted her to behave, and if Yumi had a similar relationship with Mr. Mike. The answer was positive, the girl of around fifteen served the needs of 'Uncle Mike' and together they might play some interesting games where she could perhaps learn from the older girl. The top floor was an exclusive domain in a hotel that was already the reserve of the privileged few, their room card allowing the elevator to ascend the final floor.

They were warmly greeted, Yumi bowing before kissing her Daddy on both cheeks in the continental way, the men shaking hands, then with her kissing both cheeks too, then Yumi followed kissing her as well. Introductions over they sat down while Yumi fetched drinks for everyone, as Daddy told the tale of how she had come into his life, his friend obviously knowing about The Institute. While Mike was wearing shorts and a polo top Yumi seemed unconcerned in only panties and a crop top that exposed her slim waist and tummy.

“Please Sir can I go to the bathroom? I could take Helena too.”

Helena wasn't surprised at Yumi's ploy as they could talk together about their respective situations, but from the way Daddy and Uncle Mike laughed they guessed her intent, with the two men thinking of another idea altogether. The large balcony contained a variety of outdoor furniture, plus numerous potted plants. Regardless of their need to visit the toilet, both she and Yumi were told to undress then water as many of the plants as they could manage between them. Helena seeing Yumi move didn't want to shame her Daddy so she followed suit, thankful that controlling the flow of pee was part of her Kegal exercises.

Really it was a fun game trying to aim a small squirt into each plant pot, the taller pots were a challenge, though Yumi demonstrated by lifting one leg high in the air like some doggy watering a lamppost, the two of them laughing as they tried to include every plant.

Uncle Mike called to Yumi. “Your new friend has pee running down her thigh, lick her all clean.”

Hardly before Helena could react the oriental girl was between her legs licking thighs and crotch enthusiastically, without waiting to be told Helena returned the favour, not overly worried about a little pee, as she'd sometimes got a hint of pee when licking her Dorm sisters anyway. Helena was fairly used to being naked in company, though the rooftop garden felt almost public, which was silly as the hotels were widely spaced out along the

seafront Promenade, and the penthouse gardens couldn't be overlooked.

At a signal from Daddy she sat on the floor between his spread legs nuzzling against his cock that she could feel inside his chinos, as he played with her hair, looking across her new acquaintance had taken up a similar pose, perhaps more actively rubbing her face on the contents of her own Master's shorts, as the two men chatted and sipped their drinks.

“I think your Helena is ideal, Yumi is being taught at The Institute's other location so they wouldn't have met previously, aside from Yumi here I've another older girl who you've met before, and I'm considering a third, probably about Helena's age. Other than Christmas, I intend to have them join me at separate times throughout the year, from my experience they're better behaved one at a time, besides two or three at once can be a handful.”

“I can imagine, though as you know I haven't really been in a position to have a girl of my own until fairly recently, and from friends, yourself included, I'd always heard Institute girls were the ultimate in all respects.”

“What supplementary courses have you included in Helena's education?”

“Following advice I went for high academic coverage, plus the fully bisexual educational package, not that playing together is discouraged, but a rounded curriculum makes them more amenable to any situation. I nixed the whole S & M thing, although they only cover that as a theoretical topic, heavy bondage doesn't really appeal to me, though each to their own, live and let live. Almost forgot, she's just begun her dive training because you know I love going down on reefs or wrecks.”

“And there's me thinking you just loved going down on young girls, though it's possible I could be mistaken.”

“Very good Mike, you after a new career as a comedian?”

“I think the girls are getting bored, let's go back inside and maybe they can provide the entertainment, do you think Helena might want to play lickerty-split with Yumi?”

Helena hadn't done oral sex before with an older girl, well not someone outside her own Grade, imagining at first it might prove awkward with the taller girl, though their height difference was mainly because of Yumi's long slender legs. She'd heard the expression about everyone being the same height lying down, and after a short make-out session kissing one another they moved to the soixante-neuf position, Helena getting an extended view of the older girl’s labia, rather than the brief introduction from earlier.

It was difficult concentrating as Yumi was obviously very skilful, though Helena felt sure this older girl had a more distinct flavour than her usual female partners. They had been taught many important lessons at The Institute, among them was the difference between sex and pornography. Sex was about the people concerned pleasuring their partners while having fun themselves, whereas pornography was the participants putting on a show that was explicitly for other people, whether that was a live audience, or making a recording for somebody to watch some time afterwards. As they rolled about on the carpet it insured their personal audience could enjoy viewing the action occurring at both ends.

Helena was well on the way to her third orgasm when they were instructed it was time for another entertainment, having been taught men were visual creatures it wasn't surprising to find both men had a visible bulge in the trouser department. It was also evident their Masters had arranged a swap, as Daddy was indicating she should demonstrate her oral abilities to Uncle Mike.

On a few occasions she'd been at the gardener’s cabin with a pink chit only to discover that another girl was there for the same reason. The worst outcome was sucking on a guy who'd already blown his load a little earlier because you had to blow them forever in order to gain any results. Although the men might think it amusing, it was hard on a girl's knees and her jaw. It wouldn't be too difficult for Yumi as several hours had passed since she'd given Daddy a nooner – a lunchtime blowjob, but she had no way of guessing when Uncle Mike had last been pleasured by Yumi.

Shorts and jockeys disposed of she got busy with his circumcised cock, catching a faint whiff of soap, wondering if that was just a refreshing shower, or a recent after-sex shower that would mean her task was more challenging. Having been well schooled she gave the mission her full attention, at first hardly noticing the conversation going on above, fixed on the physical clues that indicated a gentleman was about to cum, as she lavished the cock at hand with her slurping tongue and bobbing sucking mouth.

She heard her Daddy's voice. “I'm close to cumming, Yumi's very good.”

“Me too my old friend, Helena must be top of her Grade. Let's say we have the girl's refrain from swallowing, then we can watch as they kiss doing a cum swap.”

Looking up at Uncle Mike she nodded her head to confirm she'd understood what was to happen, then shortly after he said he was about to cum so she kept just the tip in her mouth to allow for his load. Above the sounds he made she also heard her Daddy telling Yumi he was there too. It was almost instinctive to swallow, therefore after stripping the last dregs of sperm from the cock in her hand she knee walked towards Yumi so they could have a sloppy spermy kiss which entailed licking each other’s faces to catch any errant dribbles of semen.

It appeared from the applause Daddy and Uncle Mike were pleased, so with Yumi holding her hand they took a bow, then she was led to the bathroom so they could brush their teeth and freshen up. Being a top flight hotel the cabinets contained all manner of spare supplies, so a new toothbrush was quickly found, and the two girls swapped tales about their respective Masters. Helena discovered Uncle Mike had 'known' Yumi since she was ten, and she learned a little about The Institute's other sister establishment that was in an Asian country, and equally jealous of their privacy.

By comparison she knew relatively little about her own Master, although she preferred to think of him as Daddy. Yumi said after a couple more visits and staying in his various houses she'd learn more, and that the two men also had an interesting network of friends.

A little later that evening in their own suite Helena inspected Daddy's cock before their night-time shower, pulling back the foreskin to lick away any traces of cum Yumi may have overlooked, but it tasted as though she'd been scrupulous in her task.

Helena felt strange walking to the marina the following day, struggling to remember the last time she'd worn shorts. Daddy had chosen them when shopping, just like her crop top with the logo 'Daddy's Princess' while the shorts themselves were both short and skin-tight showing a VPL, the visible panty line of her sexy new panties. Today they wouldn't do any scuba-diving, instead motoring along the coastline and visiting some of the nearby islands.

The yacht which belonged to a friend was apparently quite modest, only requiring a crew of six people, anyway going topless wouldn't be a problem though Daddy didn't want her wandering around naked, and to show some discretion aside from when they were in the master suite where they could be themselves. Surprising Daddy earlier that morning with a blowjob had produced its own benefits, because he rearranged the pillows making it easier to manoeuvre her around in order to return the favour, proving height difference wasn't an overriding drawback to achieving the perfect soixante-neuf.

After a pleasant lunch aboard the yacht Helena whispered in her Daddy's ear about some 'alone time' in their cabin, ostensibly to avoid the midday sun. Hardly thirty-six hours had elapsed since losing her cherry, but she insisted what her pussy really needed now was a big helping of Daddy cream because everybody knew it had many beneficial properties. Unaccountably she was also somewhat antsy from a lack of discipline since the start of her holiday, demurely suggesting that Daddy ought to spank her for being so forwards, that way she wouldn't feel guilty for any recent misbehaviours. Wriggling about on his lap with her shorts and panties tight around her thighs she felt his lightly stinging slaps from above and his growing manhood below.

If she hadn't been sufficiently wet beforehand, she felt herself becoming increasingly wet and excited by the warmth in her bottom and the signs of her Daddy's arousal, making her keen to engage in another sexual adventure wondering what position he would choose.

It would've been less appealing if his little darling displayed full slut-mode, but she seemed hot to trot, willing to instigate sexual encounters which was something promised by The Institute, their students were renowned for their pliability, even temperament, and sexual prowess which was ably demonstrated even by this twelve-year-old girl. Mike and his other acquaintances advised taking full advantage with regard to both vacations or opportunities to visit in order to best sample her rate of progress rather than await the finished product.

Having instigated certain changes in his various domestic arrangements, there wouldn't be any employees remaining whose loyalty couldn't be guaranteed, therefore providing little Helena proved worthwhile, he would seek to grow himself a stable of charming fillies for his entertainment. Looking down at the gently glowing bottom, he marvelled at the well-defined contours only noticeable in one so young, lacking the fullness of later adolescence

her bum appeared almost angular in its raised posture. Shifting her slightly gave a better view of her treasures as his hands massaged away the sting while admiring the wide gap visible between her thighs even though they were bound together by her two garments.

Slipping his hand into that space without the pretence of continued massage his fingers found her nicely lubricated, not requiring the KY that was stashed in every bedside drawer. He was confident of its availability because Christoph the Yacht's owner had a particular passion for prepubescent girls from eight to perhaps eleven, whereas he would consider a budding ten-year-old his lower limit. Each to their own, there were plenty to go around if you knew where to look, but for now he was looking straight down at the wiggly bundle who was definitely ready for his rampant straining cock.

Laying her at the edge of the bed he held her legs aloft as he disentangled her two little bits of cloth, tickling her toes as first the shorts came free, then removing the tiny pair of panties, bringing them to his nose, inhaling her delicate girlish fragrance, making him desire a taste from the source. The sweet taste of a youngster was incomparable, one of nature’s true wonders as was the girl herself, wishing somehow that Helena could remain unchanged, then again witnessing those magical developments was a delight in itself.

Placing a plump pillow under her little rump bought her to a reasonable height, standing beside the bed he pressed his eager cock against her tightly pursed lips, bringing his hands down to her thighs in order to gain purchase lest she slip away under the pressure. Leaning down he could gently bite her toes as her feet pressed on his chest, this move causing her to attempt encircling his waist with her slim legs adding more force to their second true coupling.

Momentarily Helena wondered if she'd made a rash decision, but as his fat cock stretched open her passage for only the second time she watched in wonder, as the fleshy sausage seemingly vanished, their two bodies coming together. Her own body appeared unwilling to allow its retreat, but the dance continued, the pressure on her clit less intense with this new position, maybe because she had little control of their relative movements.

Luckily she felt no pain, nor any real discomfort, fullness and heat were the primary things that came to mind. The more experienced girls in her Grade echoed those notes from their health class about how different positions altered the experience.

Again, she didn't cum although that wasn't unexpected until she'd had more practice, but she had been getting there, and Daddy seemed apologetic, suggesting she finish herself off while he watched. Strangely enough she'd never done that with a man watching, the intensity of his gaze almost disconcerting, though they were supposed to entertain and to provide pleasure for their Master's....

With a sense of reluctance he returned his treasure to The Institute, touched that she also seemed upset by their parting, him making a rash promise to visit her every five or six weeks until arranging a winter vacation. The depth of his wealth meant he'd get various underlings to take greater responsibility over sectors of his empire, otherwise what was the point unless he could enjoy himself. He now considered Helena more than just an investment, their time together had allowed them to socialise with a few selected friends who also had 'interesting' companions of an age-group considered both illegal or immoral across great swathes of 'civilised' culture, whereas that wasn't so everywhere.

She was a veritable sexual buffet once introduced to anal sex, a three-hole-princess was the term he'd heard used by some associates. It had been interesting when Helena found that Yumi was just one of many girls within his social circle in similar situations, and she'd made friends with several other little companions during their vacation. It wasn't continual sex morning, noon, and night, nevertheless it was supremely satisfying, and the girl was half fish when it came to his other passion. They had dived several times, during which he also had a safety diver, plus a professional instructor who'd enabled Helena to make notes on her progress on each subsequent dive.

Life for Helena was good and now she was quite intrigued about the possibility of gaining some additional sisters.

Chapter 08

Colette in Grade five. (5th Grade 13-14yo)

Having her birthday in October made Colette the oldest in her Grade, meaning for some uncountable reason their Tutors and Dorm Masters expected her to set an example even though that wasn't fair because she'd only been at The Institute for the same length of time. Ordinary schools beforehand hadn't prepared them for the strict regime under which they all lived. In another three months they would move up to become sixth Graders, but that wasn't strictly true, as they'd moved-up to the upper landing on entering Grade five.

As with each jump the rules changed, adding more responsibilities, a few more freedoms that you dare not abuse, and of course more punishments to enforce discipline. All of her Dorm sisters now had either guardians or sponsors, rumours circulated about the fate of any girl failing to find a gentleman, she expected nobody other than the administrators knew the truth, because regardless of any other considerations she knew the fees were truly enormous, as her own guardian never failed to remind her.

She had imagined being the Ward of a Count, her life would be that of a Princess, instead he had standing instructions she was to be disciplined on the Friday of each week for any coursework scoring below B+. Nobody liked presenting their yellow chits at Mr. Stanislav's dungeon for their fate to be decided, Colette was just thankful it didn't include the wide range of bondage gear the Count had amassed at his favourite chateau where he lived for most of the year. While the Institute prepared young ladies for a life of disciplined devotion to their given Master, molding each girl accordingly, none of their extracurricular courses covered anything like S&M or bondage aside from theoretically, any training along those lines was to be organised elsewhere at the discretion of the individual Masters themselves.

The dungeon featured some cuffs and restraints available for the harsher punishments but they were actually optional as they'd discovered during a talk upon first entering the fifth Grade, besides those rules also appeared on the top landing notice board. Spankings were now the least of their worries, usually rising by five minute increments, whereas the other implements available rose in numerical jumps of five and ten, or by six and twelve which depended upon the traditional of the person delivering any particular chastisement.

Mr. Stanislav who handed out the majority of punishments outside of the Dormitories had a central European background, mostly using the decimal system. Unfortunately from the very beginning the rules stated any one of several infractions during a punishment could cause the number of strokes given to be reset back to the beginning. Given twenty licks of the cane you didn't want to leap upwards or place your hand in the way right near the end unless you really wanted another twenty. That's why restraints were optional – meaning you did receive some additional swats as a penalty for lack of self-control, conversely you avoided the possibility of getting a doubled dose, or perhaps even worse if you imagined you'd be unable to handle the severity of a particular punishment without assistance.

The Institute modelled mind, body, and temperament. The earlier Grades having instilled the discipline of a strong work ethic and obedience, while each successive year added a range of academic lessons that continued to reinforce those languages introduced during the first year. Now in their early teens their physical fitness was gradually moving up the agenda, though Colette realised there was considerable crossover between their classes with regard to anything related to their expected sexual abilities.

Although their health classes covered nutrition and skin care due to the hormonal changes occurring in their bodies, they also had an increasing range of exercises which she thought wouldn't be taught in regular schools. Each girl carried her own 'insert' for gym classes which was about the size of a 'Sharpie' marker pen having ridges around it's circumference with a cord attached. Inserted like a tampon, weights could be added to the cord whilst you did your exercise routines, its relative slimness helped encourage the development of better muscular control.

Their Dorm Masters had introduced regular round-robin contests where two girls would have their inserts linked together using a cord while lying on the floor for a tug-of-war. Bracing their feet together, the winner of the battle removing their opponents insert only through the strength of their own vaginal muscles. During the more hectic activities taking place in their gym classes, each girl would be issued a different set of coloured marbles to insert inside themselves before running circuits of an obstacle course, or worse was the skipping or squat-thrusts, where dropping marbles gained you swats of the cane.

It wasn't all athletics, there was also badminton, tennis, or even croquet for those likely to find themselves in social circles where those sports were considered de-rigour activities, each in their own season. For those girls having a Master interested in golf, the grounds did include a full eighteen-hole course, learning enough to prevent any embarrassment if they were to either play or take the position of caddy. They were expected to run between shots rather than take a leisurely stroll, because of their crammed timetables.

Various Masters had odd requests for sports or pastimes their Wards were to learn about, though if nobody on-staff held sufficient knowledge, they at least supervised while the girl taught herself from the best learning aids available. Colette was one of many girls having her own horse stabled at The Institute on which she practised Dressage, borrowing one of the commonly available mounts just for fences, or a general canter around the extensive grounds and woodlands of the vast estate.

Whereas from third Grade onwards they'd received practical education with regard to cocks and blowjobs, fifth Graders were into their secondary sexual education which meant leaning about vaginal and anal sex. Because all students had either a guardian or sponsor by the time they entered fifth Grade, they would be expected to understand their place in providing a fuller range of sexual services to their respective Masters. Very few of those gentlemen were conceited or egotistical enough to consider keeping their little darlings for their own exclusive pleasure, when plain common sense dictated they allow the ultimate training establishment free reign to ensure these girls reached their full potential.

At evening line-up, or in the showers it wasn't uncommon for a Dorm Master to insert a finger and instruct you to squeeze, wanting to keep tabs on those girls behind with their exercises. It was possible the girls from Dorms A and B could visit the private quarters of a Dorm Master twice during the course of any residency, in fifth Grade and upwards that could mean staying the whole night for a one-to-one instruction session. It wasn't only the scores from the various classroom tests that contributed towards their monthly appraisals that were reviewed by the girls’ individual sponsors. General behaviour, adherence to dress code, attitude, the necessity for discipline, and Dorm Masters comments all counted.

Two very similar blowjobs could receive widely differing scores if one was delivered with a sense of playfulness and enthusiasm, including plenty of eye-contact, with attention to the verbal and physical signals of the recipient. Colette applied herself to all her classes, and health classes had moved onwards, no longer stressing basic technique, but talking of the more advanced methods of prolonging sexual encounters. Sexual playtimes were to be an interesting and varied journey on each occasion rather than a frenzied high speed race to the finishing post. Swapping tales, the girls found men they served, be that the teaching staff, or their own Masters all responded well to the skilful application of their talents.

Like the majority of her Dorm sisters she enjoyed two or three holidays during the course of the year, swapping tales about the exotic locations of those times outside The Institute, while increasingly they experienced weekend visitations where they'd spend quality time with their respective Masters at one of the cottages dotted around the estate. It seemed almost every weekend at least one girl was missing from their Dorm for that very reason.

They still had their video evenings, though these days the films they watched were either mainstream movies certified for an adult audience due to hot and steamy romantic love scenes, or they were outright explicit porn movies. The latter had scarcely believable plots that strung together a series of sexual encounters featuring young girl on girl lesbian scenes, or men and girls in any number of combinations. These films tended to confirm that men liked the fantasies of make-believe stories regardless of plot or silly costumes.

From third Grade onwards their etiquette and deportment classes had grown in scope to include dancing. At first they'd done ballet with their tutus and murderous ballet slippers, the classic moves just another string to their education, then they'd progressed to actual ballroom dancing. Should the need arise to attend some formal social function then they wouldn't embarrass their Master's or themselves through lack of graceful practised moves.

Dancing more suitable for private personal occasions included pole-dancing, striptease, and lap-dancing. Most important was knowing how a young lady should deport themselves to be demure and refined in public, while behaving just as their Master wished in private.

Demure of course had its place, Colette on a recent trip back to the chateau had been coy and playful to aid the Count in a sting operation to blackmail a loathed business associate.

Taking the part of junior hostess during an all-day social function she'd lead the victim by the nose right to her playroom. Edging towards the role of curious young teenager, while it was suspected the man had an interest in 'under-age' girls. It was simple enough, and she was far from the innocent or naïve girl she pretended to be, rousing the guy's interest and passion off-screen, while bringing him within range of the 'Nanny-cam' concealed within a large teddy-bear where he was seen and recorded with his hands inside her clothing.

A silent television news channel playing in the background of the video picture together with a weekly girls’ magazine showing the current date would prove from Colette's birth certificate if not from her appearance she was certainly below the regional age of consent, although that was rather ironic. Her sudden scream of alarm alerted a staff member who just 'happened' to be passing the playroom of the Count's Ward. The red-faced man was virtually caught with his hands in the wrong place, and during the ensuing recriminations it was pointed out that security would have a record of what occurred from the wireless Nanny-cam which had been there to ensure Colette's safety.

Needless to say, the man was most contrite, thus willing to do anything to prevent the very unfortunate misunderstanding from becoming a police matter. The Nanny-cam was just one of several cameras, so later-on the Count reviewed the recordings of how Colette had engineered the situation, gaining his praise for her careful manoeuvrings to bring about the desired results. To compound the irony as they reviewed the footage of the crime, she was sitting naked in his lap bouncing slowly on his cock while watching the entrapment.

The Count being very grateful for her cleverly played part indulged her whims for another little shopping junket, visiting all her favourite stores. He'd also permitted her to attend the Drama classes at her next timetable revision. Unlike the first four Grades, those girls from the fifth upwards didn't go around all day as group A and group B, joining together maybe for gym classes or some other combined activity. Nowadays she and her Dorm sisters had many divergent classes as their education became more individualised according to what courses their Masters thought most fitting to their personal requirements.

For Colette and her sister students The Institute went well beyond the realms of a first-rate academic education, and a finishing school having a courtesan flourish. Their long regime of disciplined mentoring would lead to them gaining skills not taught in other secondary or tertiary establishments. Some girls would become experts in accountancy, law, or possibly becoming close protection specialists for their particular Master. The latter position might have seemed counter-intuitive, but the psychologists explained with the right motivation these girls would do anything for the principal person in their life.

Colette realised the life of all Institute's students was outside of any ordinary existence, and it was far removed from that of the poorer background those girls might otherwise have found their lot, living in poverty-stricken countries or forgotten in some rotten State orphanage. They weren't totally isolated from the real world, they watched films, they occasionally saw news programs, and they went on rather nice holidays, but otherwise they remained aloof from the general crowd, living in their own exclusive bubble.

Another increasingly regular feature was the collected worldwide news stories that further highlighted those sexual scandals which happened to reach the news media channels. Obviously this only represented a fraction of those which came to light, as countless other stories played out under the radar – including The Institute itself.

While she knew most western countries would object to the Institute's regime of discipline it ensured the highest academic achievements not found elsewhere. Similarly anyone who discovered the sexual aspects of their education, would be hypocritical in their objections because others would only be spouting a line of political correctness rather than showing their true feelings. A wide ranging and thorough grounding in a topic that obsessed the vast majority of the world wasn't really that outrageous when considering the proportion of the internet dedicated to the subject of sex in all its diverse and various manifestations.

On graduating from The Institute aside from the obvious services Colette would render for the Count, her role would also include some more visible aspect in his coterie or perhaps harem would seem a more appropriate term. Colette had long since realised the majority of his staff members were bright presentable young women who performed functions on both sides of the bedroom door, though bedroom was just being figurative on her part. Becoming one of his three Personal Assistants would be a prime position involving a good deal of travel to exotic locations, whereas a lesser functionary, or even lead hostess based at any of his various mansions wouldn't be quite so exciting.

Knowing competition would be strong to become a PA strengthened her determination to succeed. Colette reckoned that all his female companions of whatever role faced the same forms of discipline, therefore she might as well try for a position which held the maximum benefits.

Chapter 09

Holly – life in the sixth Grade. (6th Grade 14-15yo)

By the time the limousine had left the main highway for the quieter sinuous back-country roads leading to their destination few people would witness its stately progress, nor would the locals pay much attention as classier vehicles weren't uncommon plying a route from the nearest airport. The heavily tinted rear compartment windows would also ensure that nobody could see the passengers, or how they amused themselves during the course of that otherwise boring journey.

Holly's travelling clothes lay folded on the seat beside her Master, while she was sprawled on the limousine's thick carpeting between his thighs providing a slow languid blowjob to enliven their passage from the small private airport from which they'd flown in to deliver her back to The Institute. From an academic standpoint all girls from their 6th Grade, that being those of fourteen or fifteen would be well ahead of their peers elsewhere having a system in place to encourage their progress. Thus it was fairly common for girls like Holly to acquire even less conventional skills during the latter part of an already highly unusual and varied education.

Each girl would have a tailored curriculum that would serve them well, and while Holly was destined to appear as her Master's P.A. or plaything, she would effectively be an 'invisible' close protection operative to rival any 'hired muscle' employed by the rich and famous who were vulnerable to kidnap or attack. Whilst most pupils took a basic self-defence course as an option in their physical education lessons, Holly also took MMA Mixed Martial Arts three times every week.

The Institute could only offer a limited education in that respect, therefore every couple of months since moving to her current Grade Holly found herself whisked-off to specialists for intensive courses associated with her future employment. The defensive driving course in which she had been enrolled was truly awesome considering most girls her age wouldn't be considered old enough to even get a learners permit for a moped let alone the range of amazing high powered armoured vehicles at the training facility she had recently visited.

For now she was learning defensive skills and trade-craft in threat recognition, but Sir had promised next year she could begin her firearms training. In the Dojo she could already disarm and disable opponents bigger than herself, but over time she would gain a growing list of skills. She imagined herself a cross between Laura Croft and the agents from Kill Bill although once she passed through the gates of The Institute she'd once again become the mild mannered schoolgirl who took her punishments stoically - and without retribution!

This strange dichotomy of life inside and outside the gates of The Institute became one more incredible facet of the pupils lives during their progress. Each successive year of their overall education at an oblique tangent to the 'normal' expectations of how people thought young ladies aught to be intellectually or morally enlightened in order to face their future. Truthfully their individual futures would also diverge away from normal or average, in ways beyond the imagination of most people, perhaps likened to outlandish novels or films from erotic script writers or those dealing in thrillers or tales of espionage.

Just as the very wealthy might own a collection of cars, it wasn't uncommon for that same elite group sending their Wards to The Institute to have numerous pretty staff, assistants, 'nieces' or whatever one wanted to call them thereby providing a pleasing female aesthetic into their personal surroundings. Many of The Institute's intake would've seen these older role models sensing those lucky young women were an indication of the luxurious lifestyle beckoning them should they meet the exacting standards required of Institute graduates.

Being past the halfway mark, Holly could see the light at the end of the tunnel, wishing to prove she was worthy of the investment financed annually by her generous guardian.

Her former callisthenics, gymnastic, and ballet classes while providing grace of movement also nuanced her speed and agility useful to her various martial arts endeavours practised in the Dojo. As far as she knew her Master wasn't a criminal-kingpin, though his business dealings did upset the odd rival now and again, so it paid to stay sharp during their travels to avoid any unpleasantness. He dropped off the radar, disappearing from public life when he collected or returned Holly to The Institute, but at his various homes she had seen the security arrangements, receiving extra lessons from some of the ex special forces staff.

She was left in little doubt these people were deadly, and should anyone attempt to harm her Master she imagined their bodies would never be discovered, unless you really wanted to closely examine shark poo.

Each of her Dorm sisters had bespoke tailored lessons at this stage of their education that would best suit their Masters’ expectations, therefore they less frequently walked en-mass from class to class. She didn't know of any classmates of her age or upwards who disliked their sexual role, it was part and parcel of who they were, although it wouldn't necessarily define any of them because they'd have picked-up so many useful skills and qualifications by the time they passed out though those wrought-iron gates for the last time.

No, her last statement was wrong, some alumni did make a proud reappearance wearing a new role as their Master's PA, here to escort the younger upcoming girls being on a similar career path. Her own Master had a range of companions older than herself, together with one younger ten-year-old girl who studied at The Institute's sister establishment that was located somewhere in Asia. She thought there were only the two, because America would be too problematic with various agencies poking their noses in where it wasn't wanted.

Thinking more about her previous statement any fears or stupid misconceptions regarding sex were probably all resolved by the time girls reached their second or third year, leaning to separate myth from reality. Their own reality of course involved a large dose of practical training, when you'd given all the grounds men and stable-hands a blowjob during a single day then pleasuring your own Master, and maybe an honoured guest was child's-play. Having those intense experiences helped you learn how capable you could be, much like in other aspects of her training, but then again, she didn't get orgasms in the Dojo, mostly it was under the tender care of her Master, her Dorm mates, or her current Dorm Master.

After checking in at reception Holly walked across to the Dorm building finding Chrissie, her only Dorm sister currently present, because they had such varied timetables in 6th Grade. The two girls hugged and kissed, Chrissie licking her lips, kissing again with more tongue saying she knew what Holly had been eating during her return journey, as she then asked if it had been an exciting vacation. There was sometimes a touch of one-upmanship about their holiday breaks, although the girls rarely got much say in those diversions set by their respective Masters. She spoke of the defensive driving course at length, then about a few of the social outings, a film première, a ballet performance, plus jetting off to Italy just to visit La Scala for a performance of Puccini's La Bohème.

Flying by private jet to Milan to see the opera might smack of 'Pretty Woman' but this was considered fairly normal amongst those girls within the upper grades, effectively this being essential to their all-round education. Even swapping tales of these outings gave them just a little background regarding those venues they might visit themselves at some later date. Those of inordinate wealth had the means and the contacts to get 'unavailable' tickets for whatever shows or events that took their fancy, in much the same way they'd each chosen the budding blossoms of young womanhood as their personal companions.

Life at The Institute wasn't all playtime, far from it, in fact it changed upwards on quite a steep curve from one grade to the next. The additional freedoms gained each year were hard won, each round of exams they took were anything from six months to three years in advance of those pupils in 'ordinary' education. All their academic achievements would be real enough, overseen or invigilated by leading organisations or universities. No students studied woolly subjects that had no tangible worth in the real world, though music and the arts were acceptable to appreciate the aesthetics. Literature, grammar, maths, geography, the sciences, history, philosophy, languages, and politics were all considered core subjects.

The Institute produced uniquely rounded individuals, their academic record being only one string to their bow, the erotic arts being central to their skill-sets, that and obedience to a Master who they would serve. P.E. or physical education being another path that differed from the mainstream, attempting to improve a girl’s physique, while on the whole avoiding injuries, although it might seem at odds with their self-defence classes, or those like Holly who would take a more proactive role as a close protection operative.

Swimming was actively encouraged as a low impact form of staying fit, and all girls would be expected to achieve a standard that would place them in county or district level finals at any regular school. A lifesaving certification, water-safety, and resuscitation were just a part of their advanced first-aid skills, although some girls at their Master's behest would be slated to gain further medical training if that was considered appropriate.

Holly was being 'weaponised' she would leave it down to others to do any patching-up of the injured. Realising she'd have enough time that afternoon she changed into her riding gear then headed towards the stables. She didn't have her own mount, but unlike a some of her friends she wasn't a serious equestrian, she simply rode for the pleasure of it as she guided the horse through the woodland or galloped across the open meadows just for the joy of the scents of the countryside and the wind in her hair.

The additional 'free-time' she gained from being in sixth Grade had to be well balanced as she couldn't afford to slack-off on her studies, doing so would make the horses saddle far less comfortable after a visit to Mr. Stanislav!

Chapter 10

Yana – life in the seventh Grade. (7th Grade 15-16yo)

From the time when she'd first arrived at The Institute her Dorm mates had christened her the Blonde Goddess. Looking back she had been skinny rather than slim, but then coming from an orphanage in the Ukraine that was hardly surprising, her pretty features had been her escape route. 'Out of the frying pan, into the fire' she had later discovered was one of those saying that permeated many different cultures and languages. Back in those earlier days the fire had been in her bottom, nowadays she was accustomed to having a heated rear whenever she needed correction.

Her pretty face was down to her unknown genetic heritage, her other main advantage she quickly discovered had been her natural affinity for languages. The orphanage had been in a location west of Lvov, so aside from Ukrainian and Russian, she spoke Surzhyk that was a bastard mixture of the two. With Poland, Czechoslovakia, Hungary and Rumania as near neighbours she could converse with anyone from those regions. English, German, French, and Italian had different roots, but somehow her brain just seemed hard-wired to adjust to each of these additional tongues.

Being a polyglot had made Yana the most popular girl in her Dorm, those same sisters still grateful for the initial help which had saved their bottoms from countless sound spankings. Once she realised her innate ear for languages was a prized asset, her sisters all willingly helped her through her own shortcomings elsewhere. Those early lessons were valuable in that you looked after your sisters; the orphanage had been very much dog eat dog if you were to survive. In those first two years her Dorm sisters became her first true family.

With her own background she didn't of course have a guardian, learning she would need to gain herself a sponsor, something that generally occurred between the ages of 11 to 13, when she was a third or fourth year student. That hadn't happened for Yana, she'd been sort of groomed shortly after joining the 2nd year as to those expectations of a gentleman sponsor. She wasn't shocked, she was more worldly wise than many of her sisters knowing the lengths older girls would go to in order to get better treatment at the orphanage.

She was still only ten when a series of meetings occurred with prospective sponsors, only a while later realising she had perhaps been at the centre of a bidding war. From one point of view it could be said she was very valuable to her Master; taken from another angle the fact she'd gained sponsorship so early made her life easier and more settled from having surmounted that particular hurdle at a younger age.

She now had a secondary nickname 'The cunning Linguist' which was perhaps a slip of the tongue. She liked to play with words, which was fortunate as unsurprisingly her Master did indeed need a translator whose loyalty was beyond reproach. Spanish had been of course been a no brainer, but Mandarin Chinese had taken far longer to learn. There was a large difference between getting-by as a tourist, and actually learning a new language so you'd understand what was said in a business meeting.

It was fortunate that between the staff and pupils there were native speakers of coming up towards thirty-odd different languages or dialects. Because of her specialisation Yana was one of those few pupils with good reason to actively mix with girls from several other age-groups aside from add-hock field sports. Another great boon which began when she started year four was the number of foreign holidays she took each year with her Master.

Because she didn't appear ethnically different from her Master he always introduced her as his niece and Ward due to the sad demise of her parents. Their holidays weren't all sandy beaches and 'bonking' - Yana loved to collect those odd words from different languages that related to sexual congress. Often she sat in the background at meetings virtually ignored by the 'opposition' making a mental note of any difference from that which the commercial interpreter failed to mention.

The holidays permitted her some immersive time in a language and culture which couldn't be replicated by all the computer based learning aids she had available. It wasn't entirely business as she did get to do the fun things as well, which of course varied by location.

Another main difference in her education had been her earlier introduction to a far wider range of sexual experiences than those girls who didn't find a sponsor until the following year or even the year after. All that was behind them now, from the end of the fourth year every girl on both sides of their Dorm had either a guardian or a sponsor, so with both the lessons in school, and during their time away they got a fair amount of male attention one way or another.

Like all the girls in Grades Two through to Seven she wore a rotation of various national school uniforms, some lesser recognised than others. A concession on reaching 7th Grade had been a free choice of underwear below that uniform, whereas before they could only wear non-regulation panties after school hours or at weekends. It wasn't as if you could flash your fancy panties at some teacher in the hope of some special treatment, as they'd have your knickers down anyway at the first sign of misbehaviour, but it was nice having the right to choose.

While gymnastics and most sports were performed naked at school, during her workouts or training at one of her Master's homes she would wear a Gi (pronounced Ghee) for her martial arts, or just a simple leotard when she was alone doing warm-ups or basic forms. It wasn't a standard sports leotard, because it had those pop fasteners at the crotch which her Master preferred, often whisking her off for some sweaty sex after her floor practice. The quicky released fasteners allowed him swift access to her asshole or pussy, so she usually remembered to grease-up her back passage beforehand just in case that was the route he chose. He wasn't ever mean, he just expected instant obedience, he then closed each of the poppers afterwards ensuring their juices drenched the gusset of the garment, therefore she ordered them in quantity so she wouldn't run out if the laundry was delayed.

Yellow chits were inevitable, it was simply a fact of life, but these days she along with her Dorm sisters didn't make rookie mistakes. Nowadays she used her training techniques as an aid to facing her punishments, while some sisters chose to be secured during a more testing number of strokes, and face the extra penalty swats, Yana braved it out using her own internal fortitude to keep still thus avoiding any extras. Always on her mind would be the counter reset to zero if she relinquished her position, or her hands covered the target.

With her Dorm sisters frequently having separate lessons, they didn't have single common goals as in the lower Grades, therefore individual tutorials kept them up to speed on each of their academic subjects. An exam you took six months ago might be upcoming for one of your friends, though no cheating would be involved, firstly because the punishment for both of you would be unthinkable, secondly they'd be sourced from different realms.

Her own academic curriculum vitae was already growing, giving her the qualifications to enter many of the world's finest Universities two or three years in advance of most applicants, although that wasn't the point. Her own education would broaden across further subjects, taking in topics that weren't taught elsewhere to pupils of her age, or school pupils full-stop.

While she had only just returned from one break, the following adventure was sure to be even more challenging than driving armoured limousines, the beginning of flight school to earn her private pilot’s licence. Once she passed Yana would need to keep-up her hours for her licence to remain valid, she could also go on adding to those flight qualifications, much the same as her driving skills. She might not be behind the wheel or the yoke that often in day-to-day life, but her Master liked everyone on his staff to be multi-skilled, ready to face any kind of emergency situation.

As for her sexual education she knew it would be glib to say she had nothing new to learn, as although that was theoretically true, the real world didn't work like that. Religiously she did her Kegal exercises every day, similarly to doing sessions in the gym working on all the muscle groups that were visible from the outside. Her arms and legs could smash into her opponents with lightning speed, though her pussy muscles could almost play tunes if her Master's cock were a flute.

This holiday had been the closest she'd ever come to disobeying her Master. He'd wanted her to transfer to The Institute's Asian location for the final two years of her education as it would expose her to a wider range of far eastern tongues. She accepted that it would be interesting to live among native speakers of languages she didn't normally encounter on a regular basis, but it would end up disrupting the social dynamic in her current Dorm and of that in the other sister Institute.

Yana pleaded her case well, and as a compromise she would exclusively watch broadcasts from cable or networked feeds from across those regions of interest in place of European or American news feeds. While she knew words for Cock, Pussy, and Fuck in over eighty languages, she couldn't obviously speak or understand that many different tongues, but at her current rate she was gaining fluency in a new language somewhere between twelve to eighteen months apiece. Her various tutors across this topic agreed the more languages you already had under your belt, the easier it became to make further additions.

Seventh Grade brought about another change in their ordered lives. Ever since Grade four almost all the girls had a regular waxing unless their file said otherwise, but being fifteen or sixteen it was reckoned their pubes had grown to their adult form, on those girls with a darker hair colour the shadow was more noticeable when they were due for a treatment. With Yana being a blonde the fine freshly emerging hairs were apparent more by touching than through sight unless you got really close, but the regime would change during the course of this year with electronic depilation.

This was another tick-box for Guardians and Masters alike, either one hundred percent, or leaving the possibility of some future shaped topiary? Her own Master desired the soother look like the majority of others, although they'd have time to change their minds because it wouldn't happen overnight. Her pudendum at least would take many cycles of treatment to achieve total baldness, firstly shaping around the edges, becoming a smaller triangle on each successive visit, the diminishing central region still waxed until it eventually waned to nothing at all.

Health and beauty lessons remained a part of the curriculum throughout The Institute, as it wouldn't do to embarrass yourself and your Master by not looking your best at all times. For this reason Yana knew about cosmetics, hair and skincare regimes and the alternatives generally available in the top flight salons. It went without saying if his limousines, yachts, and planes were immaculately sparkling, his companions should likewise by flawless when they took his arm.

Yana was turning out to be a model example of an Institute girl.

Chapter 11

Jane – life in the eighth Grade. (8th Grade 16-17yo)

Jane was certainly not 'plain Jane' typical of her peers she was a young lady of elegance, poise, and beauty. When seen in public with her Guardian she turned heads, although with the very subtle use of cosmetics she could deliberately make herself less noticeable, even though that might seem at odds with lessons she'd been taught. Of course, true sparkle had its time and place, at other times one would prefer to go around incognito without drawing any attention from the paparazzi, or even the public in general.

Entering eighth Grade had been the final rotation on the second floor of the Dorm block as she would become a fabled ninth Grader in six months time. It was incredible to think that even now each year knew so little about what lay ahead in moving upwards though these hallowed halls of bespoke academia, an education so different from those plebeians who could never imagine the sort of life she led inside and outside these walls.

After the ordeal of learning the basic languages spoken here, she hadn't thought that was a topic she'd revisit voluntarily because as lessons began to diverge her specialisations had been geopolitics and business studies befitting her future role as PA to the chairman of an enormous conglomerate that was a household name around the world. She'd decided off her own back to add Mandarin Chinese to her accomplishments discovering a study group met on a regular basis in order they could practice together on a less common language.

She was an external student on three different Degree courses that she'd complete before she graduated. Discipline and self-discipline were now a core part of her being, which was perhaps fortunate as eighth Graders were meant to be self-reporting, telling her tutors or her current Dorm Master about her errors then suggesting a suitable penalty herself.

At first Jane had found this difficult, what misdemeanour's was she to report, and secondly should she under or over specify the level of punishment. All of her peers faced that same dilemma, though guidance from her mentors with a raised eyebrow at her suggestions or maybe a few words of advice settled the matter. Nowadays she could better fit the penalty to the crime without fear of reprimand or disappointment. Strangely enough the absence of Yellow chits didn't have much impact on either the number of visits to see Mr. Stanislav, or the number of swats she received in any given time-frame.

If anything, the reasons in her own mind had changed over time, feeling her discipline now fell into two categories, one as a form of repentance for missing those goals set by herself or others, and secondly what she had learned was called 'maintenance' an inner need for a firm hand to remind her not to stray from her set pathway. In either case these sessions had a common result - in that she was often left feeling horny!

More than once she had asked Mr. Stanislav, one of her tutors, or her Dorm Master if they would like to spend some leisure time together. That simply hadn't occurred during each of the lower Grades, the rotating Dorm Masters or other staff would give you lessons as part of your education, but eighth Graders were permitted to ask without penalty, although the person in question might have already indulged someone else beforehand, so it was rather pot-luck as to whether your request (and your pussy) might get fulfilled.

A spanking or the use of any other of the various implements available aside from raising the temperature of her bottom would increase the endorphins and other hormones within her bloodstream. If not quite a junky as such, she like her sisters had become habituated to the need for a firm hand from the correct authority figures in her life, it having become part and parcel of who she now was.

A big stress reliever in her eighth Grade Dorm were the daisy-chain evenings whereby the current Dorm Master would invite a few other staff members around to witness all the girls writhing about the floor pleasuring one another. The fun and games which followed had a benefit of ensuring they all got a taste of cock in one orifice or another even though this was a case of sharing a limited resource. Another benefit which Jane realised through their health classes was that the men available for these parties would probably have a greater staying power through frequent and extended sexual activity with larger groups of young horny nubile girls.

During those party evenings none of the sperm was wasted because no cream-pies were left over after the festivities, it would be a criminal waste not to help your sisters with their clean-up. Often it was the case of two or more girls lapping at the lucky recipient of a nice creamy filling. Their Dorm Masters were usually thoughtful enough to check the common wall calendar beforehand so all the girls could fully take part if that were possible, knowing this a few of the girls had adjusted their cycles to ensure it was possible. Jane was one of the few girls who'd gained permission from both her Master and Dr Raphael to change to a brand of contraceptive pill that eliminated menstruation altogether. At first it had been a little strange feeling the anticipation without anything happening, but she had adjusted to those changes learning some girls didn't, and so reverted back to having regular periods.

Having achieved a comfortable hormonal balance, Jane couldn't see herself changing back unless there was some good reason, besides it meant she was always fully available if her Master should make an unannounced unscheduled visit, or come to whisk her away for a business conference or a surprise holiday.

In the same way as she and her sisters had become habituated to corporal punishment as a natural occurrence, they had also gained a Pavlovian response. They didn't salivate after receiving any form of correction, but the staff noted as the girls progressed up through the Grades they became increasingly aroused, more evidence of pussy juice rather than saliva.

When a punishment was concluded these girls on being hugged and forgiven for whatever misdemeanours would often be clingy and affectionate towards the person who'd provided the necessary chastisement.

Those of the PC brigade might shout 'grooming' or even 'cult style brainwashing' forgetting that these girls were far from stupid. The Institute had merely given each of their students the incentives which allowed their innate potential to fully blossom. Strangely most of their alumni would disagree to a point, being modestly proud of their own achievements though always hoping to gain further approval from their mentors, or most of all their Master's by striving to advance their various qualifications.

Chapter 12

Philipa (generally called Pip) – life in the ninth Grade. (9th Grade 17-18yo)

Very shortly she would be graduating. Her story had been astounding if viewed alone, but among her sisters, those with whom she'd shared this journey, and those who were yet on the lower rungs, it wasn't that unusual.

Being a ragged street orphan in a poor country was hard enough, being a girl made it that much worse, knowing in time she would follow those older girls into prostitution, probably going on to die before she reached twenty. She picked purses of the unwary and pinched food from the market stalls, she couldn't go into regular shops, they would simply chase her away knowing she was a thief. The police were brutal and corrupt, so best avoided by anyone of any age, being a kid wouldn't save you from their mistreatment.

The fruit on the market stall looked so ripe and juicy, it had been distracting when pangs of hunger overrode her normal street smarts. She swiftly grabbed the orange and turned to run smack into the uniformed officer who held her skinny upper arm in a vice like grip. She had never differentiated between the various officers; they were simply just another branch of the enemy. In her position back then everyone had been the enemy.

She couldn't remember a time back then when she wasn't frightened, though in the steel grip of that officer her mind reeled with the awful possibilities of juvenile detention, horror stories which circulated among those who lived on the streets. Although she hadn't known it, that particular officer had found a lucrative sideline in capturing the nicer looking waifs that he delivered directly to a local juvenile facility for a handsome backhander.

In the town she had come from they wouldn't know and they wouldn't care about the fate of one more street kid. If anyone had noticed her arrest, they wouldn't later ask an officer what had become of that scrawny child. Had it been some alternative officer she would've been booked into the system possibly ending up at just the same facility, though with the added inconvenience of having to lose the paperwork. This short bypass worked so much better for all concerned, the jam spread thicker if less people held their hands out.

She hadn't always been called Philipa but that didn't matter now, Dr Raphael determined her age give or take a little from her initial health checks, so her 'birthday' on all the forms needed in a modern world was merely another part of the construct that defined who she was today. Who she was depended upon who you asked, though looking at her file plus all the official documentation she was a highly educated young woman of eighteen who was about to leave the establishment she'd called home for the past nine years.

The route via which Philipa entered The Institute, with all the usual kickbacks meant she'd be in need of a sponsor. The police officer had chosen well, seeing an innate beauty under the layers of grime, top healthcare complimented by a nutritious diet changed one aspect of her future development, their own unique disciplinary measures ensured her education also hit an upward curve. She'd struggled and suffered from her poor starting point when it came to the classroom, though right from the beginning she knew despite the perceived harshness of the regime, this represented opportunities to a better future, one far beyond her imaginings as a young girl stealing fruit.

Her Master was a 'nobleman' minor royalty if you followed the linage of his family in a land which had 'dispensed' with the aristocracy a long time ago. In the city where he lived most of the time, and in the surrounding district his word was law, not from his own birthright, but because of his criminal empire. She would be one of many young women or girls who shared his bed, though she would be his first Institute girl. Everybody called him Sir, but in private she called him Roman a contraction of his first name - or Master.

Her Master had known about The Institute via a few of his inordinately wealthy associates, so he'd visited shortly after she'd entered Grade three. She was among the younger end of her cohort, like a young Spartan who would clutch a wolf under her cloak and still remain silent though the animal tried to bite and claw its way free. She'd found those stories from history an inspiration, and she would be stoic and remain strong. He had sensed her inner strength and resolve, a mere girl of eleven being more impressive than her older rivals in this game who also sought a sponsor.

For a girl from the gutter with such an unpromising start in life she felt it somewhat ironic she should have a Doctorate in the modern field of forensic accountancy. Those were not the only letters after her name, she'd worked like a Stakhanovite, a term which would be unknown in the west. Although she was surrounded by high achievers, she had amassed a multitude of academic awards in order to justify the faith shown by her Master.

For now she would see out her remaining months polishing the two current dissertations that would lead to further laurels from universities of worldwide renown. While she would miss her sisters it seemed incomprehensible they would lose touch, they had supported one another from the very beginning. Whatever they had faced they had faced it together, be that pain, pimples, puberty or periods. Sharing their coveted calamine lotion, spreading it over reddened bottoms and thighs, or a hug during the most difficult of times. She knew these girls better than anyone else, their intimate bathroom habits, bathing together and crying together over their pain or triumphs.

Just as their Masters networked she and her sisters would watch-out for one another as it had always been. You could take the girl out of The Institute though you could never take The Institute out of the girl.

On entering ninth Grade she'd left the old Dorm building behind, her home for eight years, but still in the dark about where girls spent their final year. It went without saying that you did not break the rules, at least not intentionally, there were places you were permitted to visit, and there were places or buildings like the general staff quarters which were out of bounds. In the main building there was one unassuming door marked staff only on a route most students wouldn't use, thinking it only lead to the 9th Grade common room that was of course not housed in the cruciform Dorm building for Grades one to eight.

Of course the 9th Graders would be seen coming and going from their own common room, but they wouldn't be seen using a door others might assume to be forbidden. Passing that door you entered a corridor with further doors either side, doors into individual bedrooms, but at least they could still visit one another at night or gather in the common bathroom at the far end. Ninth Grade girls weren't the only residents of that corridor as teachers filled all the remaining rooms, and the traffic between rooms satisfied the needs of everybody in this last secret the girls would learn during this particular educational journey.

The girls’ rooms might be referred to as cabins, a bed big enough to share with a sister or a teacher, a hanging closet, a chest of drawers and a washbasin, the toilets, showers and deep claw-foot baths were in the communal facilities at the end. The teachers had larger rooms with a party sized bed plus a nice en-suite arrangement that meant the girls much preferred to play away, while some of the teachers found it more fun to invade the private space of these older students. Of course the girls hadn't had a 'private space' in any sense of that term since they'd first arrived, so it was more of an odd game for their teachers.

The crossing of that corridor might not be the only meanderings through the building once the younger girls were in their own Dorm building. The man they had feared and revered for much of their time here availed himself of the services of these older girls, that being his own preferred age range. Mr. Stanislav of firm hand and firm cock wasn't an ogre just a man with a job to do, admittedly it wasn't a run of the mill job, but then the whole place was filled with people who were far from ordinary.

Pip and her sisters knew a secret about Mr. Stanislav, but it wouldn't remain a secret for much longer. While many of the male staff had natural inclinations that made them averse to any conventional marriage, Mr. Stanislav wanted a family, seeing no good reason why it should interfere with his current occupation. It was fortunate he had fallen for a girl in the local village, as he seldom had the opportunity to travel, although it was agreed a deputy would be found to share his workload, allowing him time-off and future family time.

They thought it kind of romantic that he had found a girl he wanted to marry so close by, and that she wouldn't cause a fuss about his occupation. Apparently, she wouldn't object to the fact he frequently entertained girls from the 9th Grade, as she was more than a little curious about that side of her nature thinking she would find threesomes quite exciting....

That wraps-up our tour of The Institute, but life there continues on while the demand only increases. The original site, and their sister campus in the Far East remain popular, maybe you want to sponsor one of these young ladies, or maybe you want to apply for a position on the staff... I've heard Mr. Stanislav is in need of a deputy!

The End