Date: Sun, 5 Nov 2006 23:48:21 -0800 (PST)
From: Bruce Jenkins <shaggyzon@yahoo.com>
Subject: Branthia Academy

     These were dark days for Michael and Anne Ward.  The 13 year-old
twins had lost their parents in a car accident a month ago.  The house
had been liquidated, along with the bulk of their parents belongings.
They were sent to live with their uncle on the east coast, a man they had
only met once.  They were assured by the family attorney that money would
never be a problem for them, that "Mr. Ward" had a huge insurance policy,
as well as other investments.  No one told them , however, when the
feeling of utter emptiness would leave them.

   Their uncle was a strict man.  He preferred to be called "sir", but
would answer to "Uncle" as well.  His first name was Richard, but mind
you, there was no "Uncle Rich" or "Uncle Dick".  It was merely "Uncle" or
"sir".  He was an odd sort, so different from their parents.
    They had stayed with him only a few days before he turned their lives
upside down again.  Calling them into his study one afternoon, he sat
them down, and peered down his thin nose at them.

   "Children, I have some good news."    Michael and Anne tried not to
look too offended. He had obviously never learned that calling
 teen-agers "children" is not a good way to open a conversation.  It
grated on their nerves.  "Children, you have been granted an audience
with the head of a prestigious preparatory academy."  The teens exchanged
looks of confusion.  Uncle Richard sighed.  "A school.  A very good
school, only for those whose minds and bodies show the utmost of
promise.  You will attend this interview tomorrow.  It would be very
irregular if you are admitted in the middle of the term there, but due to
your tragic circumstances, the powers-that-be have decided to give you a
special opportunity."

    Anne and Michael had resigned themselves to being pushed from place
to place.  That their uncle wanted to send them off to school was hardly
a surprise.  The more they talked about it, the more they liked the
idea.  They would get out of this stuffy house.  They would meet lots of
kids their age.  And if they didn't like it, well....  The family
attorney had said that if they had problems, to call him.  That is
exactly what they would do if prep school wasn't for them.

      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** * ** * * * * * ** * * *
** * ** *

  The drive was a long one, into the mountains.  An hour on the highway,
an hour on back roads, and 15 minutes over a rough, gravel road through a
thickly forested area.  They topped a ridge with a view of the entire
mountain and the gravel gave way to asphalt.  A complex of five or
six red brick buildings stood in a  large clearing.   The road they were
on led to the tallest of them, four stories high and nearly the length of
a football field.  The wrought iron lettering read "Branthia Academy".
      They pulled up to some steps leading to the wide entry doors just
as a woman stepped out into the bright afternoon sun.  She was an
imposing figure, dressed in gray business suit and skirt.  At least 6
feet tall, her jet black hair was pulled up in a bun.  Being 13 years
old, Mike couldn't help but notice that she also had large breasts and a
pretty face, although very serious looking.  He guessed that she was in
her late thirties.
   Uncle Richard hopped out of the car, a fake grin plastered on his
pinched face and began pumping her hand up and down.

       She didn't spare even a glance for their uncle. "I am Headmistress
Welch.  You may call me Headmistress.  The academy is mine to run.  I
will be interviewing you.  Follow me, please." Her tone was short and
chopped.
      She turned and began walking into the building her stride long, her
heavy footsteps echoing in the seemingly endless hallway.  The two teens
followed, almost running,  trying to keep up.  The Headmistress didn't
look back as she bustled down the main hall, turned down a corridor and
opened the door to a small room.  She motioned for Anne to sit down.

    "Michael, you will be in the next room.  It is identical to this
one.  There is a bathroom through that door."  She pointed.  "The test
takes three to four hours.  Afterward, I will look them over while you
have dinner. Then we will interview.  Any questions?"  The kids looked at
each other, then at the headmistress, and shook their heads.
Headmistress Welch was as efficient as she was imposing.  There was
nothing left to do but take the exam.


        ***** ** *** **** * **** ***** ********** * ** *** * * * * *
****** ******* * **


     Each section of the test was clearly labeled.  "Arithmetic, Basic"
.... "Arithmetic, Advanced" ... "Language Skills" ...  "Composition and
Writing" ...  The list went on.  Some multiple choice, some fill in the
blank, some essay...it was an exhaustive overview of everything the teens
knew and many things that they did not.  Michael was a bit taken aback
when he got to the "Psychological Overview".  Questions like,"Do you like
to torture animals?" and "How many times a day do you tell a lie?".
Weird, seemingly useless questions, but the more he answered, the more
unsure he became.  Did they want the "right" answer? Or were they trick
questions, designed to measure something else entirely?
     He tried to be as honest as he could, then flipped the page.
"Sexual Knowledge and History".  Questions about what acts he had
performed,  questions asking the definition of terms like copulation and
fellatio,  asking him whether he'd ever had sex with a family member or
if he had fantasies about farm animals.  He didn't know whether to be
outraged, embarrassed or amused.  He settled on embarrassed and amused,
doing the best he could to answer the questions, but fudging a little
here and there.
     When he was done, he sat back and read through the test, making sure
he answered all the questions. He was starving, and began to get
impatient.  Finally, he opened the door, just a crack, to peek down the
hallway and see if he could flag someone down.  He saw no one.  He opened
it a little wider, and suddenly, it flew open.  The Headmistress stood
there, staring down at him.  A slim, blond boy of about 15 or 16 stood
behind her with a meal tray in either hand.

    "Having problems following instructions, young Master Ward?
Discipline is an important part of our curriculum here.  It will be
interesting to see how long you last...if you are accepted."  She plucked
the test papers out of his hand, and stepped back.  The boy stepped
forward and wordlessly handed him the tray.
     Michael retreated back into the small room and ate his dinner, which
was very tasty, all things considered.  Meatloaf and mashed potatoes.  He
was soon very bored again, but didn't dare peek back down the hall.  He
amused himself for awhile by drawing pictures on his arms and washing
them off.  He tried to nap.  He did some push-ups.  Finally,  the door
opened again.  It was, of course, the Headmistress.

   "Follow me, Master Ward."  She led him to an elevator, put a key in it
and pushed a button.  When the doors opened, the stark halls of the
academy had changed to a warm, pastel office. Large windows provided a
breath-taking view of the sun setting behind the mountains.  The
Headmistress took a seat behind a large desk.  There were no other chairs
in the room.  Michael stood.  The wall beside her was covered in
blank T.V. monitors, a bank of at least 20.  Michael wondered briefly if
she had been watching him.  He couldn't remember if he had been picking
his nose during the test.  He smiled at the thought.

   "Master Ward, are you going to daydream, or would you like to complete
this process now?"  Her sharp tone snapped him back to reality.

   "Yes, ma'am, I ..." She interrupted him.

   "I do not like to repeat myself, Master Ward.  Do you remember the
proper way to address me?"

   "Um..sorry..I..yes, Headmistress.  Only Headmistress.  Sorry."

   "Your test indicates that you are marginally more intelligent than
this sub-par exhibition of social skills you just demonstrated.  Can you
explain why that would be, Master Ward?"

   Michael paused.  He took care that there were no "umms" or "uhs" in
his reply.

    "Yes, Headmistress.  I'm nervous." His eyes were on the floor.

   "Do you believe that being nervous is an excuse to break the rules?"
She was flipping through papers on her desk as she spoke.

    "No, Headmistress."

   "If you wish to enroll here, you will follow instructions.  Discipline
is the backbone of education."   She looked him over.  "I've seen your
test.  It is not the most impressive score, I imagine because are lacking
in formal education, but...you also seem to have the potential to do
better.  You will need to realize your potential if you are to stay in
this school.  You will now take a physical.  If Doctor Boothe approves,
we will welcome you to our illustrious institution."  She sat, staring at
him, waiting for a reply.

    "Thank you, Headmistress." She nodded approvingly and pressed a
button on the desk.

    "Doctor, we are ready."  An instant later, a door beside the bank of
monitors opened.  Dr. Boothe was a  man of about 50, with ruddy cheeks
and a head of full, white hair. He reminded Michael of  Steve Martin, the
actor.  He shook hands with Michael, a smile on his face, as different
from the Headmistress as night and day.  Michael found himself smiling
back.

   "Hello, Michael. I'm Dr. Boothe.  I am going to give you a complete
physical, it will take about 20 minutes."  He set a small, black bag on
the desk.  "Now, if you would please take off your clothes..."  Dr.
Boothe crossed his arms over the stethoscope hanging from his chest and
waited expectantly.  It dawned on Michael that this man wanted to examine
him here.  In the office, in front of the Headmistress.  Michael's eyes
slid past the doctor, to the Headmistress.  She met his gaze evenly.

   "We don't have a problem, do we, Master Ward?"  Michael was turning
red.  He didn't know what to say.  He was raised to respect and obey
adults, but he was not used to being nude in front of total strangers.
Especially attractive women.  He knew what would happen if he stripped.
He would think about not getting a hard-on, how embarrassing it would
be.  And just thinking about it would cause him to get one.

   "No problem, Headmistress.  I...well, I just didn't understand.  The
physical exam is ...here? In front of you?"  His face was hot, flushed
from embarrassment.

    "Master Ward, I promise you that there is nothing on your body that I
haven't seen many, many times in the past.  You are now in an
institutional setting.  You will need to get rid of your
self-conscienceness.  Now, remove your clothing.  And, by the way, I
don't want to have this conversation again while you stand in your
underwear.  Remove all of your clothing, and do not waste any more of our
time with this childishness."

   Michael was sure that he had something neither of them had seen
before, at least not very often. He stripped, trying to turn his body so
that she wouldn't see everything when he removed his underwear.  The
doctor soon put a stop to that.  He busied himself peering into Michael's
mouth, taking his blood pressure, then put his hand's on Michael's
shoulder's and faced him away from the desk.

   "O.K., Michael, I need you to bend down and touch your ankles."
Micheal blushed even deeper, and bent at the waist, reaching his hands to
the floor.  He felt a warm hand against his buttock, pulling it to the
side. Then two slick, lubricated fingers  were pressing gently on his
anus.   Despite his attempts to keep his mind busy, he found himself
enjoying the sensation.  A familiar warmth crept deliciously into his
penis, and he felt blood filling it.  One of the fingers pushed, and his
sphincter puckered up reflexively.

    "Michael, this won't hurt.  As a matter of fact, most boys enjoy the
sensation.  Just relax...relax..."  Dr. Boothe spoke in a soothing tone.
Michael tried to forget that Headmistress Welch was staring at his most
private area.  He unclenched, breathing deeply.  The finger pushed again,
gently, then a bit more pressure, and slid up into him.  As it slowly
probed deeper, Michael's body responded.  He felt vulnerable and
immensely aroused as his penis continued to grow until it was fully
erect.  His thoughts raced, and a blur of sexual images ran through his
mind.

   'oh, my god, i'm hard, i've got a woody, i gotta get rid of it, i'm
sitting in front of some mid-evil headmistress chick with huge tits and
my cock is rock hard, what if she wanted to suck it, what if the doctor
wants to play with it, holy shit, stop it, think of something else,
oh, jesus, my cock is so hard...'

  The voice inside his head wouldn't stop as the finger inside of Michael
slowly withdrew.  Dr. Boothe released his grip on Michael's pale butt
cheek, and lightly patted it.
    "All done there, son, turn around."  Michael slowly straightened,
trying to forestall the inevitable.  He was going to turn around and SHE
would be staring at him.  He looked down at his hard penis.  It pulsed
with every heartbeat, throbbing with heat.  His young hormones had been
loosed, and, as he knew from previous experience, there was nothing that
could be done about it.  Dr. Booth sensed his hesitation.

   "Come now, you don't think that you are the only young man to have
that reaction, do you?  Turn around, let's have a look."  Michael heard
lubricant squirt out of a bottle and wondered what what was coming next.

  He turned, his engorged penis bobbing with the motion of his
body. Michael had been an early bloomer, and his penis had been getting
bigger since he was eight.  It was enormous, nine inches fully erect.
 His eyes were locked on the wall above the Headmistress.  He couldn't
bear to see the expressions on their faces, especially hers.  Normal
reaction or not, he wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.  He felt slick
hands on his cock and looked down.  Dr. Boothe was on his knees,
inspecting the throbbing boy-meat in his hand.  Michael's penis was
pushed up to rest against his belly as Dr. Boothe felt Michael's
testicles, coating his  ball-sack with shiny lube.
       Embarrassment gave way to pleasure.  Michael had never had anyone
touch him in such a way. The doctor ran his hand up Michael's shaft and
his finger traced around the rim of his cock-head.

    "You have a large penis for your age."  It was the Headmistress, and
Michael couldn't believe his ears.  He stared at her, meeting her
eyes for the first time since he had stripped.
      "Your test indicated that you had never masturbated.  I find that
hard to believe."  Her voice softened, just a tad. She spoke slowly.
"Master Ward, a boy your age naturally explores his body as he grows up.
Tell me, how often do you play with your penis?  Every night? Tell me, do
you ever think about your sister when you touch yourself?  A boy your age
often fantasizes about a sister, or a cousin, or someone else close to
him...  Do you, Master Ward?"
   She stood up and leaned over the desk, supporting her weight with her
arms, elbows locked.  At some point during his exam, she had loosened the
top buttons of her shirt and removed her jacket.  Michael just stared,
watching her cleavage as her shirt fell open a little, her breasts
swaying , giving him a glimpse of her lacy, black bra before they
settled.
    "Perhaps you feel uncomfortable with the doctor here.  Dr. Boothe,
would you excuse us for a few minutes. I will need your services shortly,
however.  There is a girl, this boy's sister, in need of an exam when
Michael is finished here. We will use your office." Her gaze never left
Michael as the doctor packed his things and left.

    "Now, Master Ward, let's try again."  She walked around the desk as
she spoke, unbuttoning the next button down, exposing more of her lacy
bra.  She perched on the edge of the desk, crossed her legs, her skirt
riding up her thigh.  Michael could see the black straps of her garter
belt peeking out the side.

  "How often do you masturbate?"  Her fingertips played with the hem of
her open shirt, slipping inside, across her skin, then back out again.
Michael felt his penis twitch, begging to be touched.

   "Uh..alot. I think, alot."  She held her gaze and nodded for him to
continue.  "Every day.  Sometimes more."  She continued to gaze at him.
"Headmistress."  She smiled, the first smile he had seen from this cold,
beautiful creature.  Another wave of heat washed over his genitals.

   "Now we are getting honest.  Doesn't that feel better, not to be
shamed by such a small thing, something we all do, something so
....human."  Her fingers had worked their way down to another button, and
now Michael could see her flat tummy.

   "Michael, masturbation is normal, very much so for boys your age.
Now, would it surprise you to know that our students rarely engage in
self-pleasure?"  Michael looked a bit confused.

   "I'll explain in a moment.  Now let's get to my next question.  Your
sister.  A very pretty young lady.  Have you engaged in sexual activity
with her?"  Michael gave a slight nod.

    "We played games when we were younger, before she got her period."

   "Very good, Michael.  Let me guess, as you became a young man, and she
a young woman, you became embarrassed by the way your body was
changing... as did she.  Young man, we will teach you a great many things
here, but first you must learn to free your mind.  Only then can you
realize your potential."  She paused.  "Now, let's continue. Tell me
about other boys.  Have you ever engaged in sexual activity with any of
your male friends?"  Michael shook his head.

   "I started to grow...down there..my..uh..penis...grew.."  He was
trying to stammer out his thought, his tongue tripping over the words.

   "Master Ward, please.  Gather your thought, and speak it coherently.
Try it again."

   Michael took a deep breath and spoke, blurting out the words.

   "I thought they would think I was weird.  Because I was so much bigger
than them."  The Headmistress nodded.

    "And were you curious about them?  Did you want to explore your
friend's bodies, play with their penises?"  Her legs uncrossed, opened a
bit.  Michael was about to explode, his testicles aching.  Just one
touch, he thought, please just let her touch the tip of my cockhead, just
breathe on it,  anything.

    "I thought about it...  Yes, Headmistress, I did want to."

   "That is perfectly natural, and part of your education here. We
understand that young adults want to explore each other.  We even condone
it, within the rules, which will be explained to you later.  We are going
to fit you for a uniform now, then it's off to your room."  She leaned
over and pushed the intercom.  "Come in, boys, he is ready."

    Two young men entered.  Michael recognized one as the boy that had
served him dinner.  The other was tall, almost as tall as the
Headmistress, and very well-built.  They were both dressed in grey slacks
and  white oxfords.  Michael  turned away, trying to hide his erection,
then straightened back up as the Headmistress shot him a look of
disapproval.  He could feel their stares, locked on his over-sized, erect
penis.

   "Boys, this is Michael.  He needs to be fitted for a uniform.
Michael, the young man on your left that brought you dinner is Jason. And
the one on your right is Mark.  They will measure you now, and then get
you some clothes. And other things..."

   The boys approached Michael.  Jason smiled warmly,  and pulled a tape
out of his pocket. They measured his arms and chest, their hands smooth
and warm on Michael's skin.  When they got to his waist , they seemed to
move a bit slower, taking their time.  Finally, they measured his legs.
Jason nestled his hand under Michael's huge erection, up against his
scrotum, and then adjusted it, rubbing against the sensitive sack.  Then
he looked at the Headmistress.

   "I don't know if we have briefs that will fit him, Headmistress.  He
is... quite... well endowed.  Perhaps if it were ...soft..."  Jason's
voice was full of innuendo.

   "Ahh, Master Clemens, always the eager volunteer.  Very well.  But
first, measure it, please."

    Jason took his tape and pressed it against the length of Michael's
shaft, then encircled it, measuring it's girth.  Mark looked down, his
eyes wide, and dutifully recorded the numbers.  Then Jason handed the
tape to Mark and dropped to his knees in front of Michael.  He wordlessly
put his hand around Michael's penis and pulled it to his mouth, kissing
and licking the red, mushroom head, rubbing it on his lips. Jason's hand
found a firmer grip, and he began slowing jacking up and down the length
of Michael's huge member. Michael, shocked at this sudden turn of
events, was on fire in spite of himself.  The Headmistress spoke, her
voice low and sultry.

    "Master Ward responded quite well to...anal stimulation..."  Michael
felt  fingers exploring under his dangling scrotum, then behind it as
Jason found the younger boy's anus, still slick with lubricant.  Michael
felt a finger push inside of him, erotically invading his body.  Jason
opened his mouth and engulfed Michael's  throbbing cock-head,  sucking
and licking the  head, working his finger deeper into Michael's
sphincter.  Seconds later, the first shuddering wave of pleasure shook
Michael's body.  He felt his testicles release.  Hot sperm jetted through
his long, meaty shaft and emptied into the warm mouth of the young man
sucking on his penis. Michael spasmed again, and again, filling Jason's
mouth with come.  White goo dribbled out, oozing out between Jason's lips
and Michael's cock. Jason grip tightened, squeezing every drop of sperm
out of Michael's shaft and into his waiting mouth.  The Headmistress
waited for  the boys to finish, then spoke.

     "Fast and efficient, as usual. Jason is very good, isn't he,
Master Ward?"  Michael nodded, then remembered to speak.

   "Yes, Headmistress."

   "Very well. Gentlemen, please take him to the dormitory and get him
settled."  She was calmly buttoning her shirt, but her flushed face
betrayed her arousal.

   The two boys spoke in unison.

   "Yes, Headmistress Welch."


      * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * *

    Anne was laying down, spread eagle, her ankles resting in padded
stirrups.  Strange, gentle fingers pried her tender labia apart, exposing
red, tender flesh.  She stared at the ceiling, hoping that this would be
over before she began to get too wet, knowing that it was already
happening.  She had begun to seep moisture when the doctor inspected her
breasts, a glow that started in her mid-section and radiated warmth. The
blood flowing to her nether regions had  turned her wrinkled pussy lips
into firm, pink flesh. Neither the doctor nor the Headmistress had
commented on her unusually large nipples and how they were standing at
full attention.

   The Headmistress stood behind the doctor, watching him probe the
girl's vagina. The doctor made a "V" with his fingers, and pushed down.
The young lady's clitoris was the female equivalent of her brother's
large penis. It stood proudly, a red, slick protrusion of almost 2
inches, it's tip rounded and bulbous, a
miniature girl-cock.  Headmistress Welch stifled an urge to put her hands
on the nubile body stretched out in front of her.  There would be time
for that later.  She waited for the doctor to finish.

   He inserted a finger into Anne's tight hole, deciding to forgo
lubrication.  The girl's body was responding to his touch, coating his
hand in wet, musky fluid  as he entered her.   He felt around her inner
vagina for a moment, then pulled his finger out.  Getting a small
speculum out of his bag, he slowly inserted the two plastic tongues into
Anne, and spread her hole open a bit.  He shined a penlight up into
her red tunnel, then removed the equipment from her damp, young pussy.
He packed his things as he spoke.

   "What age did you lose your virginity, young lady?"  He asked as
casually as one might ask the time of day.  Anne looked up at him, her
eyes a still a bit glazed. A part of her was wishing that the exam could
go on, that he would continue to gently poke and prod her.

   "I've never been with a man.  Really."  She looked over at the
Headmistress.  The Headmistress met her gaze.

   "Excuse us, doctor.  I would like to speak with Miss Ward."  The
doctor left.  Anne felt a little ridiculous with her naked body splayed
out as the Headmistress rolled a chair over to her side and sat down.
She began to remove her ankles from the stirrups.  Headmistress Welch put
a hand on her thigh.

   "Relax.  Did you know, Miss Ward, that having your legs elevated
increases oxygen flow to the brain, allowing you think more clearly?
Now, tell me, how is it that you have never had intercourse and yet your
hymen is no longer intact."  She rolled towards the pillow that Anne's
head was resting on,  sliding her hand down Anne's raised thigh and to
her tummy as she spoke, resting it on the girl's abdomen.

   "I used a toy that one of my friends gave me."  Anne stared at the
hand on her mid-section.

   "Really? A toy?  You mean a doll? Perhaps a little red wagon with a
black handle?  Miss Ward, I am used to treating my students as if they
were young adults, so do me the honor of speaking in adult terms.  What
kind of toy?"  Her voice was stern, but the hand on Anne's belly was
moving gently, back and forth, warm fingertips stroking over her navel.

   "It was a vibrator, my friend got it from her mom's room."

   "Describe it to me.  What did it look like, what did you do with it?"

   "It was purple, and skinny.  That's why I wanted it, because it wasn't
very big around.  I let it vibrate up into me until I felt
....hot....and...uh...really wet.  Then I pushed it all the way in."
Anne closed her eyes as she spoke.

   "Did it hurt?"

   "A little, but in a good way, like...like picking a scab over a wound
that has almost healed."

   "Tell me now, who were you hoping would be the first man, the first
penis to enter you?  Your brother, perhaps?" The Headmistress let her
fingers stray downward, toward the soft, brown triangle between Anne's
legs.

   "Sometimes I think about that.  He is so big, though, I can tell when
he gets...when he gets hard.  Sometimes we will be playing, or just
talking, and I can see his...bulge."

   "I see.  Have you ever had an orgasm?  Many girls your age haven't."
The Headmistress's hand crept lower, and she buried her fingers into
Anne's downy pubic hair, stroking the womanly mound, letting her
fingernails play above the cleft that Anne's large clitoris sat in.

  "Yes...I...oh, Headmistress, that feels good. I..I have never had an
orgasm from someone else, but I can give myself one."

   "Well, I hope that won't be necessary today.  I like to get to know
the girls here, to help them grow and learn about their bodies.  We may
need a little help, though."  The Headmistress stood and pushed an
intercom button on the wall, leaving her hand between Anne's legs.
"Gretchen,  Maggie, you may join us now."

   The door opened a moment later. The two girls that entered looked to
be in their late teens.   They wordlessly smiled at Anne, and began to
adjust the bed she was lying on, raising her upper body until she was
sitting almost all the way up, legs still splayed apart in the stirrups.
The Headmistress introduced them while they worked.

   "The shorter brunette to your right is Gretchen.  The strawberry
blonde is Maggie.  They are Seniors here."  Maggie leaned forward.  Her
oxford shirt was unbuttoned halfway to her waist, and Anne could clearly
see the girl's small breasts and her hard, wrinkled, brown nipples hard
as she kissed Anne's cheek.  "You have a beautiful body, Anne. May I
touch you?"  Maggie's hand was reaching forward before the question was
out of her mouth, stroking Anne's face, her neck, and then her breasts,
taking time to teasingly pinch her aching nipples.  Gretchen was removing
her shirt, and Anne stared, mesmerized by the older girl's full breasts.
The areolae was the size of a silver dollar, and her nipples looked as
big as the tip of a pinky finger.  Gretchen smiled at her, and slipped
out of her shirt.

    "Headmistress Welch tells me that I have the best nipples she has
ever seen, but I think your's might be even bigger, Anne. Would you like
to compare?  Close up?"

    Gretchen leaned over Anne, stroking a hard, pink nipple against
Anne's lips.  It was nearly an inch long, turgid and warm against her
mouth, and she involuntarily opened her mouth, separating her lips as
Anne pushed her breast gently forward.

     Headmistress Welch had moved her chair down to the end of the
examination table, between Anne's legs.  As Gretchen toyed her nipple
over Anne's lips, the Headmistress softly kissed Anne's inner thigh.
Anne felt her inhibitions melting.  She wanted these women to rub and
lick and kiss every private part of her, to pleasure her as she had only
fantasized about.  She felt the Headmistress's lips, wet and warm,
kissing here and there on her thigh, moving closer to her hot, moist
hole.  The hard nub of Gretchen's nipple rubbed against her teeth, and
she opened her mouth, sucking it, licking it.

   Anne felt Maggie take her hand. Her fingertips brushed against
Maggie's thigh she slipped Anne's hand under her skirt.  A moment later,
Anne felt another girl's pussy for the first time.  Her inexperienced
fingers explored the soft flesh of Maggie's labia, searching for the
older girl's clitoris.  She suddenly wanted pussy, needed pussy, she had
been so curious for so long.  Anne felt for Gretchen's leg, and a moment
later, she was feeling both girls, kneading two pussies at the same
time.  Her thoughts ran a mile a minute...

   ' oh, god, they are bald, i love the way they feel, i should shave my
twat,  i am a slut, i 'm a lezzie slut, i want them so bad, i love the
way pussy feels, i want to lick and suck on their wet twats, oh, my god,
i can't believe I'm doing this, i can't believe i'm lezzing out and i
love it...'

   The Headmistress had worked her way to Anne's throbbing clit, a slick,
red finger poking up, begging for attention.  Anne gasped as she felt hot
breath on it, then the warm wetness of a tongue circling it.  She felt
her pussy leaking now, drops of wetness flowing.  She hadn't told the
Headmistress everything, but she knew that she was so close, she was
going to squirt, she was going to coat that cold, beautiful face in love
juice. She was so close.....and the Headmistress lifted her head up, one
hand buried between her own legs, pleasuring herself as she spoke in a
throaty voice.

   "Girls, I want to see little Anne playing with your pussies.  Show
me."

    Gretchen straitened, removing her breast from Anne's mouth.  Both
girls steadied themselves on the bed with one hand.  Maggie  lifted a leg
in the air, fully extended,  her ankle nearly touching her face,
supporting her calf with her free hand.  Gretchen followed suit, standing
on one leg with beauty and grace of a gymnast.  Their skirts rode up,
exposing Anne's hands on their hairless, slick, puffy twats.

   "Very nice, girls.  Anne, please, don't stop playing with them.  Look
how wet they are, they need you."  The Headmistress smiled as Anne began
to toy with Gretchen and Maggie's clits, staring as she did so,
fascinated by her first look at another girls wet, pink folds.  She put
her thumb on Gretchen's clit, and slid a finger into her warm tunnel,
then another, feeling the tight, wet hole, wishing she could kiss it,
wanting to taste another girl.

   The Headmistress bent her head down and, keeping her eyes on the
display in front of her, began to tongue Anne's huge clit.  A wave of
pleasure and more juices flowed from Anne's hole, then an electric jolt
as the Headmistress sucked Anne's girl-cock into her mouth, swirling her
tongue over it as she engulfed it.  Anne spasmed, the pleasure was too
much, and her hips thrust upward, grinding her pussy into the hungry
mouth licking it.

   "Oh...OH....OH, GOD, I'M COMING....AHH....UNGHH...OH, YES..."

   Anne's hips were gyrating now, her firm breasts heaving as she gulped
air, and the Headmistress felt fluid spraying into her mouth, sharp and
bitter.  She recoiled, pulling her head back, and Anne squirted again,
coating the Headmistress's face and chest in juice.  The Headmistress
smiled, lust in her eyes, and bent over Anne's pussy again, sucking and
licking on her sensitive clit.

   "OH, GOD, NO, I CAN'T TAKE IT, UGHHHH!"

   Another spasm racked Anne's body, and again she felt hot liquid spew
from her pussy.  The Headmistress was ready this time, her eyes closed
as she was bathed in it.  She rubbed her face against Anne's pussy,
burying her nose between the girl's pink folds for a moment before
licking them clean.

   Anne's eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed, and a smile of content
satisfaction lit up her face.

   "thank you, headmistress.  thank you...."  She barely breathed the
words.  Her hands still cupped Gretchen and Maggie, holding their slick,
hairless vaginas, massaging them.  The girls lowered their legs and let
Anne bask in the glow of her orgasm, amazed by the display this beautiful
young creature had just put on.

   "You are welcome, Anne.  Would you like to be able to make other girls
feel like that?  Would you like to kiss and lick a girl's pussy until she
comes?"

   "yes, headmistress,  i would love to...give a girl...that..kind of
pleasure..."

    "Gretchen and Maggie will get you settled now.  If you desire, I'm
sure they would teach you some....techniques for pleasing other women."

   "yes, headmistress..."
   Headmistress Welch patted Anne's leg and discreetly exited the exam
room.  Her thighs were wet from her own juices.  She couldn't remember a
time when two such exceptional specimens had entered the academy.  She
hoped that the young lady would be as good at giving pleasure as she was
at receiving it. The thought of having Anne sucking on her clit sent a
new wave of wet heat through her soaked pussy.  She needed release, and
needed it now.  She entered her office and pressed the intercom.

   "I need two volunteers, one male, one female, to bath me.  Send them
to my quarters at once."  She wished for a moment that Anne and Micheal
were ready for such duty.  She longed to bend the rules and allow them
into her bedroom for the evening, but Branthia Academy had a system, and
she knew that it was for the best that she wait until they were fully
initiated before she invited them to sleep with her.

   Soon enough, Jason and Gretchen reported.  As they took turns bringing
their Mistress to orgasm, they wouldn't have been surprised to find out
that she was picturing Michael and Anne every time her eyes closed.
After all, they were doing the same thing.....