Enthralled

Chapter 1

 

 

The classroom intercom came on during second period Geometry.  The system was as old as the building, and you could hear and feel the wall mounted unit switch on with a muted thump. There were the usual creaks and clicks as Pearl deVere, the secretary in the school office fumbled with the equipment on her end.  She’d been using the system several times a week since she started working at Dora Dufran High five years ago, but she never managed to turn it on without making a racket.  Then she blew into the microphone as she always did, producing a hurricane blast of white noise in the speaker.   Mr. Basha stopped teaching, and closed his eyes resignedly, waiting for the inevitable screech of feedback that would precede the announcement she was about to make. 

 

Mr….” SKREEE! 

 

Thump.

 

Click.

 

“Mr. Basha..”  Mr. Basha opened his eyes.  “Have Jeremy Nolan report to the Principal’s office.  Immediately!  Thank you.”  There was another thump as she put the microphone down while it was obviously still keyed to transmit.  A couple of unidentifiable scrapings, then the system turned off with another muted thump.

 

Mr. Basha turned and looked at me, and just like that I was sick to my stomach.  In two years at Dora Dufran I had never been called out of class for any reason, let alone to the Principal’s office, and the way Miss deVere said “immediately” convinced me it was going to be bad.  I logged out of the day’s math lesson.  Closed the computer, and slipped it into its carrying case.  I was determined to appear calm, but inside I was frantically trying to work out what it was they’ve discovered.  I knew there were a lot of possibilities, but I didn’t think the school knew about any of them.  The problem with having secrets is the trouble you get in when those with the power learn what you’ve really been up to.  I spent most of my time trying to fly below their radar and out of their notice.  The stealth honor student that’s me, but that’s not the same thing as staying off the Path of Transgression.  I knew some parts of that path very well, so the more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that I was doomed.  I just didn’t know why.  

 

I left the classroom slowly, everyone watching me.  The jocks in the back row were smirking, and running their thumbs across their throats as I closed the door and took the long walk down the hall to the Administration Center.  They’re not an especially bright lot at Dora Dufran High, but in this case I was sure the jocks were right. I was on my way to a throat cutting. 

 

I certainly didn’t hurry, but in no time at all I was standing in front of the brown painted metal door marked “Principal.”  I took a deep breath, and pushed it open.  I was expecting to be in Principal Dumont’s office, but I wasn’t.  Instead, the door opened into Principal Dumont’s Secretary’s office.  She wanted to know who I was and what I was doing there during class time interrupting her busy day.  When I told her I was Jeremy Nolan and I’d been told to report to the Principal, her expression changed from annoyance to boredom, and she said, “all right, go on in” waving her hand toward the blonde wood double doors on her left. 

 

I had not been in the Principal’s office before, and I was surprised at how large it was.  It also contained the biggest desk I had ever seen, and I couldn’t help but gape at it.  It was centered in the middle of the room, paralleling the four walls.  There wasn’t much on top of that expanse of polished wood, but I noticed none of it was out of place by even a millimeter. There were three rulers above the precisely placed writing pad that was centered against the working edge.  The rulers themselves were centered at the top of the pad, neatly sized from the largest to the smallest.  There was a row of four pencils to the right, ranging in descending order from the longest to the shortest.  They were all equally sharp, and none of their erasers showed any wear at all.  To the left of the pad was a two-basket wire mesh office tray.  The top tray was neatly labeled “IN,” the bottom tray was neatly labeled “OUT.”  Each piece of paper in each tray was precisely placed on top of the one below it.  Happenstance never took root here.  Order was King, or rather Queen.  Eleanore Dumont, the Principal, sat centered securely in the exact middle of her dark red office chair.  The chair was centered snuggly into the exact middle of the extra large leg hole that was in turn centered on the working side of her extra large desk.  Mrs. Dumont, impeccably groomed as always without a hair out of place, looked up at me and said, “Well?”

 

I continued to gape.

 

Mrs. Dumont leaned forward slightly, and said it again.  “Well?”  This time she gestured slightly with her head toward the guest sofa on the other side of her desk. 

 

Until that moment I hadn’t been aware there was anyone else in the room.  I disengaged my attention from the precise orderliness of that immense desk and its tiny occupant, and suddenly realized who was sitting right in front of me.  It was my Mistress.  Haley Thompson was wearing her Josephine Hensley Middle School uniform, yellow blouse and short, blue plaid skirt.  Her legs were crossed, which made the skirt even shorter, and she was looking at me with a quizzical expression.  I didn’t know what to do or say.  You see Mistress Haley is my biggest, deepest, most important secret of all. Mistress Haley is in seventh grade.  I’m a high school sophomore, but I belong to her and have since last summer.  I’m 16.  She’s 12, although she’ll be 13 in a few weeks.  Despite her youth, I am her property, and I am bound to serve her pleasure.  We both know there are potential problems with that, so no one other than her mother is supposed to know about it.  Even at this moment facing her in the Principal’s office I’m not sure anyone does.  So far as I know no one at my school is even aware that I know her. Let alone that I have a “Property of Haley Thompson” ID tag fastened to a thin silver chain around my balls.  So what do I do now?  Standing there in that office, do I pretend I don’t know the girl who controls my life?  Do I greet her as a friend?  Do I pretend she’s no more than an acquaintance?  Do I turn and run?

 

Mrs. Dumont put an end to my indecision.  “Jeremy Nolan!” She snapped.  “Is that any way to greet your Mistress?”

 

I turned to her. I couldn’t believe what she’d just said. She’d just put the innermost secret of my life right out into the open as though it was the most normal thing in the world, and was obviously now waiting for a response.   “Uh, no.  I’m sorry, Ma’am, I just…”

 

“Don’t apologize to me,” she interrupted.

 

Just like that I had my bearings again.  I dropped to my knees right where I stood, facing my Mistress.  Placed my hands behind my back, and bowed my head so I wouldn’t insult her by looking at her without permission.  “I’m so sorry, Mistress” I said.  “I didn’t mean to displease you.  I didn’t….”

 

“It’s alright, Jeremy” Haley said in her soft, musical voice.  “You didn’t know I was here, and you forgot yourself because you were startled.”

 

I bowed my head lower.  “Please forgive me Mistress.  It won’t happen again.”

 

“Come here, Jeremy.”

 

I started to rise, but she stopped me.  “No,” she said.  “Come to me on your knees.”

 

I shuffled across the dark green office carpeting, angling slightly to my right so I wouldn’t block her view of Mrs. Dumont, and stopped next to her crossed legs.  I kept my hands behind my back and my eyes down which meant I was now looking intently at the most perfect thighs I had ever seen.  Mistress Haley may be young, but her body is developing beautifully, and her legs are glorious.  They are round where they should be, tapered, wondrously smooth, and perfectly tanned.  Her crossed knees are marvels of symmetry, and give me instant erections when she allows me to kiss them.  At 12 she has the legs all girls dream about, but very few are granted.  I dream about them all the time.

 

She put her hand on the back of my head, and gently stroked my hair.  “There’s nothing to forgive you for, Jeremy.  You did nothing wrong.  I haven’t yet trained you on your responsibilities when we’re together in public, so of course you were confused and unsure what to do.  As soon as you realized the situation, though, you responded well, and I’m very pleased with you.”

 

“Now,” she said gently pushing my head forward and down, “Mrs. Dumont and I want to continue the conversation we were having when you came in, so you may occupy yourself by kissing my feet while we talk.”

 

I crouched forward, bringing my face down to the level of her dangling right foot, and kissed her big toe.  Mistress Haley was wearing sandals with a wedge heel.  The strap across the top of her foot was inset with faux jewels that perfectly matched the predominant shade of blue in her skirt.  She had a light pink polish on her toenails that caught reflected light as I bent over her foot, and made her toes sparkle like little jewels.  I kissed each one of her toes, one after the other.  Then I kissed the top of her foot on either side of her sandal strap.  When Mistress gives me permission to kiss her foot, she means I’m allowed to kiss and lick everything from the tips of her perfectly pedicured toes to her ankles.  I am not allowed to go beyond her ankles without her specific OK.   With Mrs. Dumont sitting in the room with us on the other side of her desk/fortress, I don’t think I’m going to be getting that permission this morning. 

 

I had just turned my attention to Mistress’ other foot when the Principal spoke, “my dear Miss Thompson that was most impressive.”

 

“Please, call me Haley.”

 

My face was almost to the floor, kissing the toes of Mistress’ left foot.

 

“If you don’t mind my dear, I’m going to call you Miss Thompson.  Consider it a sign of my respect.  You showed remarkably mature judgment in dealing with Jeremy a moment ago.  You were even-tempered, firm yet gentle, and wise beyond your years.  You even promptly engaged him in a substitute activity so that he won’t distract us from our business.  In those few moments you proved your character to me, and clearly demonstrated your fitness to posses and control him.  I have no doubt you are going to make him into a fine, useful boy.”

 

I had now kissed my way up to Mistress’ left ankle, and was licking my way back down to her toes. 

 

“Now to the matter at hand.”  Mrs. Dumont pulled the computer keyboard shelf built into her desk toward her, and began rapidly pressing keys.  “I have before me your application to be recognized as the Responsible Party in Jeremy Nolan’s voluntary bondage.  I have a notarized statement from Jeremy’s mother approving transfer of his title to you, and I have a similar statement from your mother authorizing it as well.  I also have your school records and several character references lauding you for your maturity and intelligence.  Once Jeremy has convinced me this morning that he is doing this voluntarily, combined with my own inquiries, and what I have just seen, I personally will have no doubt your application should be approved, but there is a problem.  While we have several boys here at Dora Dufran who have been quietly transferred from their families’ authority into the legal possession of mistresses, without exception every one of those boys belongs to an adult woman.  They are all college coeds or young divorcees in their twenties and early thirties, so listing those women as Responsible Parties for high school boys is not especially unusual or difficult.  Your case, however, is unusual.  Because of your age you cannot legally sign a binding contract.  Yet the primary function of a boy’s Responsible Party is to do just that.  The Responsible Party in the eyes of the law acts as the boy’s parent or legal guardian, being responsible for such things as medical treatment, and the signing of legal consent forms, authorization to participate in athletic teams, field trip permission slips, things the law does not allow you to do.”   

 

I had now switched my attention back to Mistress’ right foot, and was gently sucking on her big toe.  Mistress wiggled her toe gently in my mouth as a signal that she was enjoying it. 

 

Mrs. Dumont continued, “On the other hand I think you are possibly the most qualified young candidate for such a title transfer that I have ever met,  so there may be a way around that little problem.”

 

Mistress said, “You have my undivided attention.”

 

“Your divided attention, I think” replied Mrs. Dumont, as I began sucking on another of Mistress’ toes.  “That young man is clearly enjoying his assigned task, as is the young woman who assigned it to him.”

 

There was a slight pause, then Mistress said “That is true, but as much as I’ll admit I’m enjoying Jeremy, I am even more interested in hearing your solution.”

 

“Very well.  Here it is: you cannot be Jeremy’s Responsible Party because you are under age.  However under the laws of this state Jeremy is old enough to sign himself into voluntary bondage with anyone he chooses.  The law calls that Enthrallment. Now, I know that Jeremy has already pledged himself to you, therefore, I propose that this morning he signs a formal Enthrallment contract legally binding himself to you as your thrall, and specifically giving you his complete power of attorney.  That Enthrallment Contract must spell out that he is appointing you to be his official parent or legal guardian, and entrusts you to carry out all that position’s responsibilities.  That will not only make your legally his owner, but specifically give you the power to sign legal documents in his place, and your age therefore becomes irrelevant.”

 

I was now kissing the instep of Mistress’ right foot.

 

I heard her breathe a low sigh, then she said, “What a marvelously devious mind you have, Mrs. Dumont.  That is ingenious.  Even if that arrangement were to be challenged, although I can’t imagine how anyone would learn enough about the situation to care to do it, by the time lawyers had argued through each side’s position, and dealt with all the possible ramifications, both Jeremy and I would be of legal age anyway.”

 

“And, once again you impress me Miss Thompson” came the response from behind the desk. 

 

I had now worked my way around to Mistress’ ankle. 

 

“You aren’t even in eighth grade, and you have a compelling distraction literally at your feet, yet you immediately zeroed in on the focus of my plan.  No matter how weak its central legal argument may be, by the time it could be resolved the whole thing would be moot.  It’s my turn to be impressed by your marvelously devious mind, and now that I’m on the subject I do hope that one day you’ll tell me the story of how you came to acquire Jeremy.  I have the feeling that’s quite a tale.”

 

“There’s really nothing much to tell.  We met last summer, and liked each other.  Everything went from there.”

 

“Uh huh,” said Mrs. Dumont.

 

I was licking Mistress’ right ankle, which put my eyes right up against her legs.  Once again, as always I couldn’t believe how perfectly smooth and shapely they are, even when viewed very close.  I really wanted to keep going.  I wanted to kiss and lick every square inch of her flawless skin up to her knees and beyond, but I don’t have permission, so I didn’t.  I shifted my attention again, and began placing long, lingering kisses on the top of her left foot. 

 

“How long,” asked Mistress “do you suppose it would take to prepare such a contract?”

 

“It’s only a matter of printing it,” said Mrs. Dumont.  “I took the liberty of preparing such a document when I finished investigating your application two days ago,” and she pressed the print key on her computer.

 

Bending over as I am.  Kissing and licking Mistress’ feet with my head almost completely under her crossed legs, looking up at her perfect thighs and the hem of her short skirt only an inch or so from my eyes,  my cock is stirring in my pants, and in a few seconds it’s going to become obvious to anyone who looks.  So I straighten up, still on my knees, and keeping my eyes down I say, “forgive me for interrupting Mistress.  I wanted you to know I’m having an erection.” 

 

That is something I’m always supposed to report, and I know I’ve done the right thing when Mistress Haley looks at me and says “let me check.”  I shuffled on my knees a little closer to her, and leaned back slightly so she wouldn’t have to stretch.  She reached out with her left hand, palm up, slender fingers down, and placed it right in the middle of my crotch.  I could feel my cock stiffen as she traced its rapidly swelling outline through my jeans.  She slowly stroked me from the base of my cock out to the tip of its head, and back again.  Then she squeezed it, smiled at me, and asked, “Why don’t you show me?”

 

I had a little trouble maneuvering my now hard cock around inside my fashionably tight underwear, then through the flap in front, and out into the open past the metal teeth on my jeans fly.  But at last it was displayed straight out in front of me with its characteristic slight twist to the left.  I spread my legs and leaned back as much as I could so Mistress could have a good look.  I could feel my cock throbbing as she hefted it to feel its weight, and squeezed it to feel its firmness. She raised it so it was pressing against my abdomen, pressed the full length of her hand against its underside, then gently let it down again.  She looked over the expanse of that big desk, and asked Mrs. Dumont, “Would you like to see?”

 

She would, but as I began to stand she said, “If you don’t mind Miss Thompson just have Jeremy crawl over here on his hands and knees.”  As I began to do so I heard Mistress Haley behind me say, “Third Rule, Jeremy. Third Rule.”

 

I crawled around the desk on all fours with my cock waving from side to side and bobbing up and down.  Mrs. Dumont intently watched its every move, and gave a little sigh when I reached her and leaned back to display my erection to her.  My cock was as big and firm as it could get, and pointing right at her.  She reached down and wrapped both hands around it, cradling it in her palms, and bent over for a good look.  She said nothing to me, but spoke to my Mistress, “Miss Thompson he’s magnificent!  You have a real prize here.  This boy can keep you very happy, and almost certainly will be worth whatever trouble you’ve gone to, to posses him.”  She glanced over at Mistress, then turned her attention back to me. I could feel her warm breath on the head of my cock, and for a moment I thought she was going to kiss it, but she didn’t.  In another moment or two she straightened up in her chair, looked over at Mistress, and asked “since the contract is here on my printer, shall I have him bring it to you so you can read it?” 

 

“Yes, thank you.”

 

Mrs. Dumont let go of my cock with her left hand, but her right stayed just where it was rhythmically squeezing my cock one finger after another, over and over.  She took three newly printed pieces of paper off her printer without looking at what her left hand was doing.  She was watching her right hand fondle me.  She handed the papers to me, and spoke to Mistress without taking her eyes or her hand off my cock.  “Read this, and let me know what corrections you’d like to make, if any.  If it’s acceptable have Jeremy bring it back to me, and he can sign it here on my desk.”  Then she released my cock.  I got to my feet, and took the papers to my Mistress. 

 

I waited beside her on my knees while she read them, the soft fingertips of her left hand stroking the underside of my still exposed cock over and over from base to tip.  When she finished, she handed the papers back to me and said, “Jeremy take this contract back to Mrs. Dumont and sign it where she shows you to sign it.”

 

I said, “Yes Mistress,” and went back behind the Principal’s desk.  Mrs. Thompson had me put the papers on her writing pad which meant I had to lean across her to sign them.  As I did she circled the head of my cock with her thumb and third finger while her index finger probed my pee hole.  She kept that up while I signed the enthrallment documents, and she questioned me to be sure that was really what I wanted to do.  She seemed to need a lot of assurance, and my cock seemed to need a lot of exploration, but finally she finished.  She ran her hand back down the length of my cock, then let go and gave Mistress’ copies to me.  As I was taking them to her, Mrs. Dumont said, “Miss Thompson as of this moment Dora Dufran High School, and therefore the state, lists Jeremy Nolan as Enthralled, and you as his bond holder.  Therefore you are now the Responsible Party in Jeremy Nolan’s life.  So far as the school district and the state are concerned he belongs to you, and you are in complete charge of him.”

 

“Thank you, Mrs. Dumont” Mistress said.  “That’s wonderful.”  I knelt beside her, my cock bouncing up and down as I did, and handed the copy of the signed contract to her. “You’ve been a very big help to us, and I want you to know we really appreciate it.”  She put the contract in her purse, and uncrossed her legs.

 

I watched her do so, hoping to catch a little peek of panty in the shadow inside her skirt, but I saw nothing other than the movement of her magnificent legs.  I could watch those legs all day, and still not have seen enough.

 

“Report cards will be coming out in two weeks,” Mrs. Dumont said.  “Jeremy’s will be coming to your computer address, Miss Thompson.  You will need to read it, sign it at the place indicated for parent or legal guardian, and send it back to the school to be put in his permanent file.  Absence excuses must be written by you.  Field trip permission must come from you, or Jeremy won’t be allowed to participate.  After school activities or clubs require your written permission.  School disciplinary notices, if any, will be coming to you.  Any teacher requests for parental meetings will be directed to you.  Any questions?”

 

Mistress motioned me to stand, then stood in front of me herself, and began maneuvering my still-erect cock back into my pants.  “No questions” she said to Mrs. Dumont while she reached her right hand through my jeans fly, opened the flap in the front of my underwear, then held them both open with that hand while she used the other to guide my cock back into my clothing.  Once I was all nicely tucked away she zipped up my fly, gave me a little pat on my crotch, and turned to Mrs. Dumont. 

 

“Since I am already here, and we have a long weekend ahead of us, I believe I’ll take Jeremy out of school now.  I’ll have him back in your tender care Tuesday morning.” 

 

Mrs. Dumont smiled, the first time I had ever seen her do that, and said, “That will be fine Miss Thompson” as she rose to escort us to her office door.  “But on Tuesday morning have Jeremy report to me here in this office instead of going straight to class.”  I fell in behind my Principal and my young Mistress as they opened the office’s double doors and said their goodbyes.  Then I followed Mistress Haley into the school parking lot, walking behind her at a respectful pace and a half with my eyes downcast as a good Thrall should.