File: DINE.TXT
Chapter 6 of the St Cunatus saga



As usual, dinner that night was to be held in the main hall, at 7:30 sharp.
That is, any girl who was not present by 7:30 would need a very good 
explanation if she was to avoid a sharp reprimand for lateness.

This night was to be the formal introduction of the Crest representatives
to the assembled students. The Sisters had been stressing to their pupils
all day, that tonight they should all be on their best behaviour, that the
dignity of the school should be kept foremost in the girl's minds during 
dinner and the speeches that would proceed the meal.
At the mention of speeches, there had been a good deal of inward groaning and 
whispered derision among the girls. The thought of waiting interminably for 
dinner while old Alina droned on and on, led to thoughts of numb bottoms and 
cooling food. Occasions like this were fortunately rare, but tonight looked 
set to be an exceptional pain, since it seemed that those strangers they had 
seen wandering around the school recently were also going to give speeches
for some reason.

By 7:15, almost everyone was present. Mother Alina had taken her seat at
the head of the main table, facing down the hall over the benches of the 
girls. To her right, six of the Crest ladies and gentlemen had taken their 
seats, remarking charminly on the impressive neatness and grace of her 
students. Two had not yet arrived; apparently they had embarked on a tour of 
the surrounding countryside that afternoon. Mike apologised for them, fearing
that they may have been delayed or miscalculated their walk. He suggested it 
might be best to not wait on them, since he could not say when they might
arrive. Alina agreed, though wondering how best to make her introductory 
speech with some of the guests of honour missing.

Some minutes later, as she was scanning the rows of girls at their benches,
checking for missing faces, her main cause of worry resolved itself when David 
and Sue entered through the far doors. They were still in their day clothes, 
having apparently not having had time to change. The poor tired things, she
thought, feeling a touch of concern for Sue, who seemed to have had a hard
day of it. It looked as though she may have hurt her feet a little, the way
she was walking, even with David lending her his arm. Just like a man, Alina
thought, dragging the poor girl all over the countryside, and only _then_
showing some consideration.
When the couple reached their places on her far right she exchanged greetings,
and the two apologised for their uncertain arrival. They had found some rare
butterflies in a distant field, and lost track of time while searching for
more of the same species, they said. Sue seemded quite sore all over, to 
judge by the care with which she sat down, thought Alina.
It was now very near to 7:30, and Alina returned her attention to scanning the 
students for unbecomming behavior. All seemed to be going gratifyingly well, 
till she noticed that three seats of one dorm's bench were empty. Three! What 
were those foolish girls doing! They knew it was a serious matter to enter the 
hall after the speeches had begun, tonight of all nights. If they were not 
here in the next few moments... She began to consider the things she would say 
to them at the first opportunity, and what forms their reprimands might take.

Often, such a train of thought would turn into a lengthy reverie, as she 
carefully considered the advantages of the various punishments and pennances 
she might impose on impertinent, deserving girls. In her years as Mother 
Superior at the school, she had personally devised and instituted a large 
number of quite novel methods of reprimand. It always gave her a strong glow
of pride, even of... well, a very strong glow, to consider her contribution
to the moral and social training of the young ladies in her charge.

Now was not the time to spend on such pleasant thoughts, though. She kept one
eye on the clock, hung among the framed photos of past and present years of 
budding young women. The rule was, 'be seated by 7:30', as whatever was to 
happen each night would begin, without fail, at exactly 7:30.
So rigidly was this enforced, that as the second hand began up it's final 
climb, the noise level in the hall began to taper off, as the girls most 
properly brought their chatter to a respectfull end. By 7:29:45 the room was 
almost silent, save for a general scuffing of feet and chairs. 
Alina made a note to herself to deal with the three absentees in the morning, 
now certain they would not be arriving. She knew their faces, they had been 
well and in class today, she had seen them. She had not been warned of their
absence by a Sister, and so they could only be absent by their own fault.
She was preparing herself to rise and begin her address, when two of the girls 
burst in through the side door. All eyes turned to them in the silence.
The third girl also appeared, hesitantly, in the doorway, close on the heels 
of the first two. These had glanced at the clock on entering, and were now 
practically diving for their chairs. Alina sighed inwardly, witnessing their
most ungracious passage. She would have prefered them to remain absent, than 
to behave like this. Surely a simple decorum was not too much to ask of these 
teenagers? They were seated with several seconds to spare, and yet she was 
going to have to devise some reprimand for such behaviour.

She turned her attention back to the third girl, what was her name? Ah yes, 
Amber. At least _she_ seemed suitably subdued for her lateness. She took a 
faltering, embarased step forward, then stopped, looking around at the rows of 
faces, now all turned towards her. Alina for a moment thought the silly girl 
was going to turn and flee from stage fright. Really! These girls can be so
unpredictable at times. Look, now she is actually blushing! Standing there,
almost quivering, and blushing. What a spectacle she is making of herself.
It is now exactly 7:30. Alina is determined not to let one foolish girl 
disrupt events, so she stands up, tapping her tiny gravel on the table for 
silence, and glaring at Amber. Most of the hall turns back towards the Mother 
Superior, though more than a few a obviously keep one eye on the late girl.
Alina> "Well, if we would all take our seats, we may begin...." She pauses 
pointedly, still glaring at Amber. Has the witless girl grown roots? What is 
wrong with her?
Amber seems to be struggling with herself. She actually _is_ quivering, and 
keeps making small fluttery movements with her hands by her sides. Her face, 
as well as remaining flushed, holds a strange expression, hard for Alina to
place. It seems perhaps a bit like.. awe? Alina also observes that Amber has 
quite forgotten such basics of etiquette as breathing through the nose, not
the mouth. In fact, the girl's breathing seems quite rapid. Did she actually
_run_ here? (Alina takes a dim view of young ladies running, except when at
approved athletics.)
Alina taps the gravel again. "Come along, we are all waiting..."
Amber seems to recover her senses, for she takes a step forward, then another.
Her steps though, are far from what one normally considers 'walking'. She 
seems unable to swing her legs, adopting a kind of half-step shuffle, which 
keeps one leg always in front. She continues, for some reason seeming to find 
the act of motion even more awe-inspiring, to judge from her expression.
Only after advancing several more paces, does she seem to realise that her 
course is very wide of her necessary destination, and she turns to head for 
the gap between the benches that she must pass down to reach her seat.
This is all very extraordinary, thinks Alina, perhaps the girl is unwell
after all? She catches a glimpse to her right of the guests carrying on a
brief whispered conversation. She turns to them:
Alina> "Ah, I supect she may be unwell today. Normally Amber is such a bright
and responsible girl." She turns back to following Amber's progress.
Amber is now almost to her chair, but seems to be getting even slower, if that 
were possible. For each jerking step, she now stands for a moment with her 
legs seeming to be pressed together. Alina is now certain something is the 
matter with her. This is very unfortunate, but she does wish the girl could 
have arranged with one of the Sisters to skip dinner altogether.

This has all taken only a few seconds, but by now the delay has caused most
heads in the hall to once more turn to it's cause.
Amber reaches her chair. Her hands grasp the back of the chair, and she once 
again halts, seeming to support herself on it. She has not been looking around 
during her odd walk to her place, seeming to be staring at her chair only, as 
one might try to keep some distant navigational point in view. Now she appears
to give thought to the rest of the hall again, and glances around. The sight
of a hall of faces all regarding her with an assortment of expressions ranging
from puzzlement to scorn, seems to almost cause her to faint.
Her knees actually buckle somewhat, and only her grip on the chair back keeps
her on her feet.
She apparently decides that she had better sit down or fall, and twists around 
into the chair, sitting with a thump. When she lands, her behaviour suddenly
becomes even more curious. Her seat faces Alina, and Alina can see that Amber
has shut her eyes and is rocking slightly back and forth on her behind on the 
chair. Her hands are out of sight below the table, and her mouth is fixed in a 
round 'o' of... what? Pain? Nausea? Really, this is serious. The girl must be 
quite ill! In this case she will overlook the breaking of the 'hands above the 
table at all times' rule, out of compassion for the poor girl.
Still, she is now seated, and is unlikely to actually keel over, at least for 
a while. Perhaps it is better to go on with the introductions finally...

Alina> "Well, we shall begin then." She launches into her speech, explaining 
the decision of the higher offices in the St Cunatus order of nuns to 
concentrate the energies of their order into missionary aid projects, and how 
this resulted in a search for an alternative group of sponsors to take over
the running of the St Cunatus school for young ladies abroad.
She praises the good fortune that led to the respected Crest group submitting 
a proposal for continued operation of the school, that will avoid any 
disruption in the academic lives of the students, and ensures a continuance of 
the fine St Cunatus tradition of excellence in learning and cultural 
refinement.
She covers the schedule for transfer of the school's operation to the new 
staff, some of whom are their guests here tonight. She introduces them 
individually, and describes the wealth of their academic and educational 
backgrounds. She mentions her own experience of them as kind and cultured 
gentlemen and ladies, certain to uphold the school's high moral standards.
Then she goes on to a reminiscence of some fine moments from her years at the 
school. There are quite a lot of these, and only a slow realization of a 
growing restlessness in her audience brings her to her closing summary, and
to passing over to the Crest people for their addresses.

As she sits down, Alina glances again at the Amber girl, who is looking more 
normal. Perhaps it was just some passing stomach upset? But there is still
something a bit odd about her composure. Her hands are now correctly placed
on the table, and she has got her mouth closed at last, but.. the girl seems 
unable to decide how to sit. One moment she is slouching back in her chair, 
with a terrible posture, then she will sit up straight as a bar, then rock 
forward till she is leaning over the table, seeming to push her ribs against 
it's edge. Then she will go through some other random sequence of the same 
positions. There is also no doubt the she is frequently taking great, deep
sighing breaths. This is all _very_ curious, thinks Alina. I will certainly
be expecting a very good explanation for this as soon as the dinner is over.

Each of the Crest group gives a short speech. Very short indeed, and each
one with at least one quite witty joke, too. The girls, who were well into
the acute boredom phase of a typical St Cunatus speech attack, pick up, and 
actually have a few good laughs. Alina is quite surprised, though the sight
of her young ladies dissolving into wild giggling seems a bit too free for
her comfort.

She continues to keep an eye on Amber, out of her rising curiosity.
At the back of her mind, one wild but surely most unlikely explanation has
set up camp and won't go away. The prospect of directly questioning Amber 
after the dinner has begun to build a real sense of anticipation in her. 
Since she is paying such close attention to the girl, she notices another
small event missed by (she thinks) everyone else.

As David is nearing the end of his speech, he is making some comments on the 
benefits of technology to mankind (_Humankind_! thinks Alina). For some reason 
he slips in a brief annecdote about some time he watched a rocket launch at 
Cape Carnaveral, how magnificent the rocket looked, thrusting up into the
deep, warm fleecy clouds, the sun gleaming from it's red painted tip, and
how he'd wanted very much to sketch it but all his pens and pencils had 
mysteriously gone missing.
At this point, for no apparent reason that Alina can see, Amber seems to have 
a relapse to her worst stage from earlier. Once again she drops her hands 
below the table, looking as though she is clasping them between her legs!
Her mouth drops open into an 'o' again, and she leans far forward, seeming to 
shake with a chill. She seems about to rise, actually lifting her bottom up of 
the chair a few inches, then after a moment, dropping back down. Her eyes are 
closed again, Alina is sure.
In a few moments, Amber has recovered, and Alina spots her furtively glancing 
around, as if to see if anyone is watching her. Amber sees no sign of 
attention, and once more resumes her strange alternation of postures.

By this time, the 'wild explanation' camped at the back of Alina's mind has
built a pallisade and put down a well. She cannot keep from thinking of it, 
and that idea leads straight into her favourite punishments and pennances
daydream. It really does give her a glowing feeling to consider all she's done 
to help misguided girls back to the path of righteousness. It begins to seem
possible that some more special pennances will need to be imposed.

While closing his speech, David appears to absently feel for his hankerchief,
but it is missing. He laughs, adding: "There, you see. Another mystery; now my 
hankerchief has gone missing, just like those pens. Ah well, perhaps it will
turn up somewhere." His attractive wife, Sue, chuckles and glances up at him 
standing next to her. A private joke, perhaps.

There are two more speeches, which pass without event, then it it time for 
the serving of first course. Alina leads the assembly in saying Grace, and
dinner is begun.


                    ..................


For Amber, the walk to the hall had been a struggle of conficting desires.
As she was marched along by her dormers, she had for a few moments achieved
a frame of mind that she felt she 'ought' to have about her treatment.
This was outrageous! She couldn't let them get away with this!
Why, as soon as she got to dinner she would go straight to one of the Sisters
and report what had happened, what was still being done to her! Probably
those nasty girls would all get the cane, or be expelled, or, or maybe the
stories she had heard about what was done to 'naughty' girls were true?
That would be even better! They would be sure to get that when she showed
the Sister the...
Oh. She would have to, to.. show what was, what they had done to her if she
told now, before she took it out.

For a while she had convinced herself that the sensations from her crotch as 
she walked were of a painfully large rod, cruelly shoved up her against her
will, like everything that had happened to her. As she walked carefully 
between the girls holding her, wondering if she should simply pull free and
find somewhere private to remove the thing from her, she realised it had
slid quite a long way out of her, stretching the crotch oh her panties and 
tights down till they rubbed against her inner thighs as she walked. This was
having the effect of twisting the prong within her sheath, and making the
sensations even more disturbing. In fact... NO! She would go straight
to the Sisters, and, and show them! If she didn't do it straight away,
they probably wouldn't believe her, and the other girls would certainly 
all lie, and say she was making it up. Oh! They would even tell about hearing
her at night! Surely they would not do that? Would the Sisters believe them?
Ohhh! If they all said it (and she knew they would), then it would be her
that was in trouble. What if the stories _were_ true? They might do those 
things to _her_! She had never heard anything but fragmentary rumours, but 
they all seemed to agree that those 'special punishments' involved things
that were both painfull and involved the removal of clothes. Some even hinted 
that the punishments directly involved the private parts! If they didnt 
believe her they'd....

Oh really, she thought, this was ridiculous! Down in her crotch, the 
sensations as her legs bumped the base of the pencil case were becomming
quite powerful, harder to consider unpleasant. This sort of thing couldnt
happen though, surely? Back in the dorm they had caught her by surprise,
there was no way she would let them do anything like that again, no way.
It wasnt her fault if she'd... well, come, like that. (Thinking about her 
recent demeaning orgasm at their hands made her now definately rearousing 
cunt clench spontaneously around it's guest.) She had to admit that it had 
been her best ever, though. There was no way to deny that. Possibly, she 
should try doing this pencil case thing sometime by herself. After she had
had them all punished for being cruel to her too.
Mmmmm.... It certainly does feel good again now. Funny how it just keeps 
building up, hope it doesn't get much stronger.
I'll _have_ to show the Sisters straight away, before dinner, or they'll
never believe me. Ohhhh that's nice... Even then, how will I make them
believe me and not the others? Oh! I'd have to show them it sticking out of
me, and they'd all say _I_ put it there. Ahh... They'd look at my cunt..
and get me to take it out... What if they can tell it feels good? How could I
convince them then? I have to, or they'll end up doing those things to meee...
OOooH.. oh how can I stop this? It's just getting too strong, I don't think I 
can pretend to hate it in me when I show the Sisters... They'd be sure to
think I was lying... oooooohHHH... The girls would say they'd found out and
were going to tell on me, that I was just trying to put the blame on them...
I know it! I just know the Sisters would believe them!

So OHhh.. I can't do it. Oh. Ohhh Wow, this is getting... That means I must 
go back with them after dinner.. and they'll do.., they'll make me do other
things. I guess I really have to, until I can find some way to prove it's
them not me that's lying. Ahhhhoh.  What will they make me do? Maybe I can 
talk them out of it? Probably not, I suppose.

By this time the dildo is really getting to her once more, it's movements as 
her legs brush against it's protruding base being answered by regular clasping 
of her sheath. With only half it's length in her, it is stretching and teasing 
her opening, but not doing much in the way of the deep poking that her cunt
is now reminding her that it would like. Indeed, tensing her muscles seems
to push the rocket out a little further, with her underwear pushing it back
in again when the grip relaxes. They are approaching the dinner hall now, and 
suddenly she is again finding walking increasingly difficult.
Since she started to dwell on it, thoughts of what may be in store for her
back at the dorm seem to be throwing petrol onto the fire in her sex. The
blaze is once again getting quite out of hand. For the first time, the 
possibility occurs to her that she might actually be going to have _another_
orgasm sometime not so far off. That there is nothing she can do to avoid it.
Even if she can hold it off during the dinner, the other girls will still 
do things to her after. Anything they can think of, and there is nothing she 
can do to stop them. They know they can make her come. They are sure to want 
to do it again. They'll probably keep doing it as long as it amuses them. 

_That_ thought seems to have an even greater inflamatory effect, as though
the mere idea of being _made_ to cum is a turn on. As soon as she thinks the
thought, she has a revelation, that it's true, she _does_ like the idea of 
being forced to come. Thinking back to the moments of her massive spending at
the hands of her roommates, she realises that it was the situation as much as 
the pentration and frigging that brought on the mind-numbing climax. In her
loins, a massive almost painfull clamping of her cunt serves as confirmation.

It also serves to bring her to a halt just as the other two release her arms 
to step into the hall's entrance. As they disappear inside, she recovers and
steps forward, marvelling at the sensations in her cunt and the new idea that
she could actually enjoy being the private sex toy of her dorm mates.

Expecting to simply make her way to her place, she finds herself under the 
direct regard of a hall full of faces. It feels like they have all read her 
mind, and turned to see the girl who had decided she enjoyed being raped.

With the blood rushing to her face, and the certainty that everyone can see
the prong half nestled between her upper thighs, half thrust into her sex,
she stands frozen, the instinct to flee battling with her knowledge that to
do so would draw more attention than simply going to her seat. Oh! her seat.
When she sits down, it will stick the rocket right up her again. Ohhhoooo.
But she must. Unsteadily she makes her way to her seat, finding that the 
combination of mass observation and the twisting of her dildo is lethally
erotic. By the time she reaches her chair she is certain she knows what will 
happen when she sits down. The question is, what can she do? The answer is,
as the Mother Superior glares down at her from the head of the hall, that
she must sit down. She steels herself for the re-impalement, and sits down.
The entire length of the rocket rams back into her. Sure enough, she comes.
This time it's obvious to her, as she struggles to maintain a semblance of 
composure, that the situation of being publicly forced into sexual acts is
a very powerful ingredient indeed. Her orgasm seems to go on and on, and on.
It wasnt the simple thrust of the rod that did this. It's the faces. The
thought of being played with later. Of being _made_ to feel like this for
the amusement of others.

Around her at the table, her recent tormentors barely hide their smirks,
each knowingly watching Amber's efforts to recover herself. 'Well, this is
fun, isn't it?' they think.

Eventually, the throbbing in her veins, the fire in her sex fade back to a
merely powerful sensataion of being sat on a telephone pole.
She becomes aware of the speeches, and attempts to give them her full 
attention, if only to take her mind off diameters and length.
Whenever her mind comes back to the matter in-cunt, she finds it very 
difficult to sit still. It is astonishing to her, but her sex is already
well on the path back to excitement, almost as though it had not already
travelled it twice tonight. What in heavens name is happening to her?
She has been horny often enough before, but never like this. Her body is
acting like some sort of sex machine, with a fast charger. Is it possible she 
is going to have _another_ one, just sitting here? More certainly 'yes' with
every passing minute, it seems. Does she _want_ it to happen again? She looks 
around the table at her dorm mates, meeting intent returned observation.
She knows they will all know when she comes, no matter how well she tries to 
hide it. They will watch her gasp and pant, and know she and her sex is
theirs to treat as they wish, for she has submitted to this. They will see
her climax, unfrigged and motionless, and likely understand it is their
control of her, as much as the thing up her snatch, that is the cause.

All serious thoughts of attempting to escape from their sexual blackmail
have left her head by now. The best she can aim for is to hide how thoroughly 
they have her. She had better do her very best not to come again at the table.
Alas, her cunt's rise up the scale of heat has continued, and now it has
commenced to clench spontaneously on its delicious filling.
Amber finds that she can trigger these powerfull squeezes by deliberately 
tightening her muscles there, but that attempting to hold the muscles relaxed
works only for a while, the longer she manages to hold off the spastic 
tightening, then the more powerful and erotic it is when it does occur.
And hence the shorter the natural interval to the next one. This goes on for 
some time, the spasms slowly becomming more powerfull, closer to firing her 
off into a full-blown orgasm. She realises that the speeches are nearly over, 
there will soon be only the meal to get through. Close, but she probably isnt 
going to make it.
At one moment, she is fighting off what promises to be an extra powerful 
spasm, attempting to take her mind off the state of her slit by concentrating
on the man's speech, when suddenly, he mentions pencils and rockets (a red 
one!) all in one breath. It's too much. With a mighty wrench her belly fires
up into another powerfull, interminable orgasm. If anything, this goes on
even longer and harder than the first at the table. This time she moans
softly, surely heard by most at her table at least, and almost collapses 
forward onto the table. Her hands drop to her lap, pressing her dress down 
between her legs and clutching at her exploding twat.

Drifting back to reality after some interminable period in this state, she
guiltily glances around to see if anyone noticed her hands at her crotch. 
There is no sign that she can see to suggest it, apart from the expected
knowing looks from her own table. Now she is theirs, she thinks. No question.
When we get back to the dorm, they are going to spread me out on a bed, and
stick everything they can think of up me.

                    ..................