The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 5 (39 page)

“Next time, no movie,” you say. “Just the cock sucking.”

Jeffrey laughs. “I love you.”

9 December

Ms. Antoinette Childress

Chief Preceptor

Birchwood Heights College for Young Women

One Birchwood Heights Lane

Merrington, VT

Dear Antoinette:

It is with regret that I, Felicity Hamilton, must tender my resignation as an employee of Birchwood Heights College for Young Women, effective at the end of the fall term. Since the start of the school year, I have been employed as Residential Preceptor for Hall A of the Carrigan Memorial Dormitory. Given the rumored proclivities of Miriam Carrigan, I suspect it will come as no surprise to you that Hall A is an assemblage of incorrigible miscreants, troublemakers, budding criminals, aspiring whores, accomplished tarts, sluts, exhibitionists and saucy deviants of a most unpleasant nature.

In the event that you have mislaid my no fewer than fourteen memoranda pleading for disciplinary assistance in bringing the residents of Hall A under control, I have detailed below just a few of the choicest misdeeds committed by the student body. Please note that I have refrained from listing the almost daily ritual of birchings, canings, paddlings, and bare-bottomed spankings that being preceptor of Hall A has required of me, not to mention the litany of unscheduled panty inspections, strip searches, and review of the shower surveillance cam to prevent (or correct) any improper hygiene practices. Such a list would take far more time for me to pen than the few days remaining in the fall term.

1) On 1 September, the night before the first day of school, freshman Monet Williams was discovered in the laundry room with sophomore Murietta Davis. Ms Williams was quite busy having her head dunked in the laundry room washing machine by Ms Davis. It shames me to say, Antoinette, that both girls were in their bra and panties: When pressed for an explanation, Murietta said she “just wanted to show the little slut how we do the upperclassmen’s laundry here at Birchwood.”

When it was pointed out to her that she was hardly an upperclassman, Murietta turned quite scarlet and used a flurry of bad language to abuse this residential preceptor. Apparently, Ms Davis had misrepresented herself to Ms Williams as a junior, almost as serious an infraction of our rules as dunking a freshman’s head in the washing machine. In following with Birchwood policy, Murietta was instructed to bend over the washing machine while Monet retrieved my preceptory paddle, and the sophomore was subjected to a stern paddling from both wronged parties, as well as a fervent dunking by her erstwhile victim.

Sadly, I must report that the story does not end there. Later in the evening I discovered Murietta and Monet in that very same laundry room. Monet was mounted once more on the washing machine as it went through its spin cycle, and her hand was quite firmly entangled in Murietta’s hair, forcing it between her naked thighs for ministrations of a most distressingly Sapphic nature. Monet was heard to utter the following statement: “Oh, yeah, bitch, you like that, don’t you, bitch, you love eating that freshman pussy, bitch, oh look, here comes that bitch Hamilton, maybe if you beg she’ll give you what-for again, slut.”

I should point out, Antoinette, that this malapropism on Monet’s part is a direct quote, helpfully captured on the audio track of the laundry room’s surveillance camera.

Needless to say, Monet soon found herself in quite the same position Murietta had occupied, following on Birchwood’s policy of making the punishment fit the crime. It saddens me to say that I discovered the little slut was sodden as a Peruvian summer, and my discovery of that fact propelled Monet well into the throes of a violent sexual release as she orally serviced her classmate. Since, of course, Monet had gone so far as to call me as well as Murietta a bitch, there was little left to do other than to administer my own similar punishment to Monet. Antoinette, I know it will shock you to know that as Monet was being punished, Murietta discovered her to be as vulnerable then as before to sexual stimulation – quite repeatedly, I must add.

2) On 14 September, during our weekly inspection immediately after shaving period, I discovered that sophomore Katrina Miller’s otherwise impeccable mound had been sullied by hints of lipstick of a shade senior Jeannette Johnson informed me is popularly called “cocksucker red”. As you know, Birchwood policy strictly prohibits the wearing of cosmetics except for weekly Bridal Trainings.

Since Jeannette appeared to be little miss know-it-all, she was employed to administer a stern birching to Katrina in an attempt to elicit the source of the forbidden cosmetic enhancement. (Jeannette, it must be noted, administered said birching “to this little whore’s behind with pleasure” – her words.) Upon punishment, Katrina admitted that the lipstick had come directly from the mouth of sophomore Emily Wilson who had apparently assisted in Katrina’s shaving and been so overcome with Sapphic temptation that she had applied shocking oral attentions to the freshly-trimmed orifice. Emily, of course, denied the incident, and it took extensive investigation by the helpful Jeannette to discover that the sophomore tart had secreted the lipstick in a most unsavory place. Antoinette, my intention is not to shock you, but Emily clearly achieved her release during Jeannette’s extensive rummaging in her sodden netherpassage.

Since, obviously, Emily had displayed a proclivity toward both lipstick and tonguejobs, she was punished by being instructed to administer both to the turgid furrows of the entire hall. It took most of Sunday and into Monday to accomplish this task, but the residents of Hall A were most obliging in their participation, and Emily clearly learned her lesson.

3) The previous incident led me to believe that Jeannette Johnson was quite a proper young lady, having learned quite well the principles of behavior at Birchwood. Unfortunately, I must report that this is not the case. On 15 October I discovered (upon routine weekly inspection of the residents’ panty drawers) that Jeannette was harboring quite a monstrous secret among her prim cotton underthings. Wrapped in a pair of heart-adorned boxer shorts, I found a Sapphic tool of a most unimaginable nature. When I confronted Jeannette with this item, she brazenly admitted that it was hers, informing me that she had planned to “strap it on for your mother, bitch”. Confronted with this reprehensible attitude, I summoned the residents of Hall A into Jeannette’s room and “strapped it on” for her, demonstrating beyond the shadow of a doubt to all present that Jeannette’s eyes were considerably bigger than either of her passages.

Though it got quite cramped in there with more than twenty girls witnessing the punishment, I must say that it was made somewhat easier given the fact that weekly panty inspection requires all residents to be naked (to ensure that no contraband underthings can be hidden in untoward spots). The close quarters did require no fewer than four girls to crowd onto Jeannette’s single bed as I punished her, but as they were all reclined lengthwise, it was possible to accommodate them. I selected the four most poorly behaved girls (Marica, Serena, Twill, and Penny) to get the most advantageous view of Jeannette’s savaging, which presented its own problems when I discovered all four of them locked in Sapphic couplings right beside me! Needless to say, these four girls were administered punishments identical to Jeannette’s, the hated phallic tool still glistening with the plentiful gushings of Jeannette’s passage.

I have enclosed the specified member here, confiscated for your inspection, unlaundered, for the purpose of documenting the copious humitude of Hall A’s resident snatches. My intention is not to shock you, Antoinette, but as you know, residential preceptorage is rarely pretty.

4) Finally, and most egregiously, one week ago Friday, virtually all the residents of Hall A were discovered well after lights-out in freshman Erica Nottage’s room, making quite a ruckus. Upon entering I discovered Erica splayed on the bed, attired most shockingly and bound wrist and ankle to the head and footboard! Junior Cecile Morrow and sophomore Pandora Drew had stripped themselves bare and were applied with some fervency to young Erica’s body, Pandora administering body-slams to the poor girl’s face with her legs spread quite wide while Cecile caned her lace-pantied sex. All this occurred while the other residents of Hall A cheered the girls on.

Extensive interrogation brought out the fact that Erica’s roommate, freshman Veronica Wallop, had discovered Erica so appareled in anticipation of sneaking out for a date with a boy (an infraction that carries a penalty of immediate expulsion). She had summoned the other girls, who had wrestled the transgressing freshman to the bed and begun to administer their own brand of punishment. Antoinette, I don’t mean to shock you, but Erica was clad in just the barest of dresses that would have been considered exceedingly inappropriate had it adorned a worn-out whore in a Thailand brothel, and was so far beyond Birchwood’s dress code as to suggest that our young Erica had been replaced by some sort of doppelganger. Furthermore, the insufficiency of the girl’s undergarments in covering her underlips – not to mention her posterior, which was hidden (or shall I say “revealed”) by nothing more substantial than a fragrant scrap of dental floss – was so shocking as to elicit a gasp from my lips when I saw them up close – as did the fact that they were badly in need of a determined wringing-out.

Erica refused to admit that she’d dressed up for a date, regaling me instead with a fairy tale of how the other girls had forced her to dress up like this so they could “whore her out down by the waterfront.”

Unmoved by Erica’s improbable account I informed the freshman that if she wanted to make a slut of herself she could quite effectively do it without leaving Birchwood. Though Erica protested at first, she soon learned her lesson, discovering that a date with boys, in addition to being strictly against the rules, was wholly inadvisable. The other residents of Hall A were commended both for their apprehension of their wicked schoolmate and for their enthusiastic participation in her punishment (which took the remainder of the weekend, and then some).

How I wish I could end the story there, Antoinette! It was soon confessed to me at weekly panty inspection that the “official” account of things was not in any way accurate. This confession was elicited from Veronica upon discovery of a black lace garter belt – a garter belt! – in her panty drawer along with black fishnet stockings. Apparently Veronica had conspired with the other girls on the hall to overpower and dress up young Erica, whom they considered to be “too stuffy for her own good – or ours.” Though several girls had helped her smuggle in an array of lace garments for the forced transformation, Veronica had been unable to part with the garter belt and stockings, which she considered quite fetchingly sexy.

Since Erica’s account of things now appeared to be accurate, I had no choice but to reverse the previous state of affairs, requiring each of the participants in the scheme to return Erica’s lingual attentions to the wronged girl’s nether regions. Erica was quite eager to participate in this punishment in order to set right the state of affairs. In fact, as she was serviced she could be heard uttering language that was quite inappropriate for use during a disciplinary session at Birchwood. Needless to say, this indiscretion was corrected as soon as Erica’s recompense was completed – each girl at whom she had hurled an encouraging or demeaning expletive was invited to hurl the same back at her tenfold, and thereafter to administer a few swats to the potty-mouthed trollop’s well-used bottom.

As you can see, Ms Childress, there is little I can do to maintain discipline on Hall A. I am at quite a loss, finding myself as incapable of maintaining order as I was of behaving when I was a student here just a few short years ago. As you know, I was disciplined quite severely for indiscretions and oversights, and I think this account should establish that I’ve not learned my lesson yet. That is why I’ve submitted my application for Birchwood’s graduate program in Home Economics, with the humble aspiration that you’ll accept me as a candidate for student residence at Birchwood – preferably on Hall A. Clearly, Antoinette, I deserve it. My hope is that, given my catalog of the indefatigable sins of Hall A’s residents, you will take over the residential preceptorage of this incorrigible hall yourself. I’m quite hopeful that your firm hand, so much more experienced than mine (as I discovered many times when I was a resident on Hall A during my undergraduate studies) will render the otherwise inveterate tarts as obedient as possible, and produce the kind of young ladies of which Birchwood can be proud.

Miss Childress, I implore you to consider my application for residence on Hall A. In my mind, nothing else will correct my failings as a preceptor.

Sincerely,

Felicity Hamilton

Residential Preceptor

Carrigan Memorial Dormitory, Hall A

Birchwood Heights College for Young Women

Handwritten note at bottom: