Date: Fri, 20 Nov 2015 13:17:36 -0500
From: J W <jw1137@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Marcott Academy 1

The Marcott Academy I
By: Jackie

PREFACE:

This is another dusted off relic from 2008. Originally written for and
posted on a site that catered more to the Sapphic community. Alas it no
longer exists so if you missed it before here's the reboot. The tale is
told in six segments. Comments always encouraged.

Don't for get to pay your dues. Please contribute what you can.
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

I

Chantel was preparing to leave her home and she didn't know when she'd be
back. She`d been told all she needed to pack was underwear and pajamas, her
other clothes would be supplied. She would be attending the Marcott Academy
for girls, the most exclusive girl's school in the tri-state area. It was
her stepmother's idea.

The thirteen year old emptied her underwear and nightwear drawers into one
of her dad's suitcases. It wasn't half full. She thought about taking
Mister Muggs her beloved teddy but decided that since she was going to
become a refined young woman, that stuffed animals were no longer
acceptable companions. She left him looking as forlorn as she did up
against the pillows of her neatly made bed. The suitcase was heavy but it
didn't feel any heavier than when she'd hauled it into her room this
morning.

Darnell Williams stood at the front door as his daughter reached the top of
the stairs. "Oh honey let me bring that down for you," he said as he
athletically bounded up the stairs and took the unwieldy piece of luggage
out of the teenager's hand. She loved her dad with all her heart and she
wished him nothing but happiness, but the woman he had chosen as a mate
following her mother's death three years ago made her wonder what price SHE
would have to pay for it. Roberta Lee was as fine an example of African
American beauty as you could hope to find. It was easy to see how her
father had fallen head over heels for the milk chocolate skinned
woman. Chantel thought the phrase `drop dead gorgeous' was written while
looking at her. Her father was no slouch. As a matter of fact if you saw
Darnell and Roberta walking down the street you might think you'd stumbled
on Halle and Danzel walking arm in arm. The teenager's real mother had been
no less lovely Chantel always thought she bore a striking resemblance to
Whitney Houston, before... well you know.

The BMW X5 that the suitcase had just been thrown into was Roberta's idea
too. Chantel's dad had grown up on the mean streets. He dragged himself out
of poverty by working hard and being blessed with the rare combination of
athletic ability and intelligence. The athletic prowess had earned him a
full ride football scholarship. When a senior season injury ended his
chances in the pros his 3.8 grade average in sales and marketing made him a
heavily recruited prospect to the corporate world. Not content to rest on
his laurels he earned his MBA the hard way. Now it was all paying off. With
his appointment a year ago to Vice President, still shy of his fortieth
birthday, he became the first person of color to achieve that lofty
position with his firm—not to mention the youngest.

Chantel's stepmother was another story altogether. She became the third
generation of her family to enter the legal profession. It was manifest
destiny. She`d lived in affluence all her life and for her the best MIGHT
be good enough. That's sort of how she connected to vice president
Williams—he was the hottest young executive around. Roberta was the
legal counsel assigned to her dad's firm and they worked closely on
contracts in his new position. Long hours in the office soon turned into
intimate dinners and well... Three months after her dad got his promotion
the couple announced their engagement. It was a New Year's Eve
revelation. Surprisingly a huge magnificent wedding was not a priority for
the gorgeous lawyer—speed was. They were married in a small ceremony
with just close friends on the island of Aruba in March.

Chantel's life changed that day in ways she couldn't have imagined. Roberta
tried to get close to her teenaged step daughter but Chantel saw her as
trying to replace her mother and that of course was not only impossible; it
was unacceptable. `The first thing she did when she moved in was to go
through all my clothes' the teenager recalled. `She especially didn't seem
to like my underwear. That day she came home with all new stuff and made me
try it all on and model it for her made me feel really funny... uh, but
kinda sexy too. The way she touched and poked to see if it fit right... but
I still don't like her' the teen thought.  `To make matters worse she also
takes all of her my dad's time.'

Time that had belonged to Chantel until last fall.

The Beemer rocketed down the interstate toward the secluded site of the
Marcott Academy. Chantel sat in the back feeling
deserted—replaced. Roberta had convinced her father that the only place
for his... their daughter to get her secondary education was the
prestigious facility opened thirty years ago by the renegade educator
Miranda Marcott. The school guaranteed admission on graduation to the Ivy
League school of your choice and they delivered. The additional attraction
was that they accelerated the four year high school program completing the
state sanctioned requirements in three years. It was enormously expensive
but for the well heeled lawyer and her rising star husband money was no
object.

Miranda Marcott was an academic prodigy. She acquired her first university
degree at sixteen. Her doctorate in education came at the tender age of
twenty two. Her innovative and sometimes radical ideas on teaching put her
at odds with most of the education community. There was only one solution
and that was to start her own school. At the age of thirty she was able,
with her academic credentials, to get the financial backing she needed. The
quality of graduate was not of course evident for five years but by the
time the Academy celebrated the end of its first decade word had begun to
spread far and wide. In the subsequent twenty years the Academy's
reputation continued to grow to near legendary proportions. Alumnae
included bank presidents and CEOs, successful lawyers, renowned educators
and physicians. Doctor Marcott's favorite achievement was that her staff
was now comprised solely of past graduates.

Many analyses of the Academy's graduates had been done by different
organizations for a multitude of reasons. A study that had not been done,
and would have doubtless surprised many learned minds, was the rate of
marriages. Less than twenty percent of Marcott graduates ever
married. Stacked against a national average considerably over seventy
percent the disparity was startling and might have been cause for further
investigation had anyone noticed—but they didn't.

The X5 glided silently up the tree lined drive to the main
building. Roberta had been here once before. Neither Chantel nor her father
had ever laid eyes on the stately thirty year old building. They were
suitably impressed. Darnel Williams stepped down from his SUV and stretched
mightily after the two hour drive. Roberta got out the other side and
smoothed her skirt and straightened her blouse. Chantel did not move. She
sat looking out the window at what was to be her home likely for the next
three years. She felt like crying.

She sniffled, took a deep breath and angrily wiped a stray tear. She could
hear her step-monster already `Oh don't be such a baby!'—then her father
would come to her defense and the newlyweds would argue in private. The
teenager had already played that scene and in her opinion the monster
always won so there really was no point in causing the friction. The wise
beyond her years girl finally stepped out of the Beemer when she was
confident she had her emotions in check. She stood looking up at the
classic architecture of the three story academy in her cute but way too
expensive little dress. Roberta was saying "Isn't it magnificent!"

"Very impressive," her husband agreed and then turned to his daughter "What
do you think so far honey?" The look on his face told it all. His eyes
pleaded for a positive response but the rest of his face was
anguished. `How can I leave her here... not see her for months?' He almost
scooped the adorable little creature up and jumped back in the BMW. He
could see himself peeling rubber down the damn stately drive—but he
didn't. Roberta had convinced him that this was best for Chantel and he
would put his own feelings aside, swallow the massive lump in his throat,
and find a way to smile. Chantel simply looked at her dad and her
expression also said all that needed to be said. Darnell took his
daughter's hand and together the three of them mounted the steps.

Mister Williams pressed the front door buzzer noticing the surveillance
cameras trained on the entrance. The pretty blonde teenager who answered
the door looked to be no more than sixteen. "You must be the Williams,
we've been expecting you," she said opening the door invited the family
inside with a grandiose arm gesture.

As soon as she'd closed the door she turned to the teenager and said "Hi
Chantel, I'm Barbara, but everybody calls me Barbie." The dark skinned girl
was thinking what an apt name it was for the well developed tall
blonde. "If you`d be so kind as to have a seat I'll summon miz Millie for
you." She disappeared down a hallway and Darnell could not help watching
the sway of the pert ass and the short plaid skirt. He was married not
dead. Roberta took note of the thrilling spectacle as well. Mister and
missus Williams seated themselves in the burgundy leather wing backed
chairs that were interspaced with small mahogany tables along one
wall. Chantel remained standing.

Each member of the African American family did their own appraisal of the
opulent lobby. They all wound up looking at the dominant feature, a life
sized portrait of a beautiful woman in a cream colored suit. The grey
streaks in the shoulder length auburn hair must surely be highlights as the
woman appeared to be no more than forty.

"That's Miranda Marcott," Roberta whispered needlessly. They would have all
been surprised to learn that the school's founder was over fifty when the
ten year old portrait had been done. All three of them were gazing up at
the painting when they heard, "Isn't she wonderful?" the question drew
their attention to the tall slender woman in a navy Marcott Academy blazer
and a charcoal grey skirt. "Hello, I'm Mildred Brown the Head Mistress of
the Academy," the elegant brown haired woman introduced herself and
extended her hand, interestingly toward Roberta first. "If you'll accompany
me to my office there are a few papers to sign to make everything
official."

Miz Brown explained the documents one by one and made copies for the
Williams to take with them. She also handed Darnell a `Parent's Guide' that
set forth rules for parents.

Returning to the lobby missus Williams gave her step daughter a peck on the
cheek and said, "Study hard sweetheart."

Mister Williams hugged his only child ferociously fighting back tears. He
wanted to say something but he couldn't trust his voice so he simply
conveyed his love and sorrow in a look from his dark water filled
eyes. Chantel returned the moist gaze and after all no words were
necessary. Mildred Brown and the newest student of the Marcott Academy
watched the BMW disappear down the drive from the front steps of the
institute.

After a respectful moment the Head Mistress said "Come along dear; let's
get you settled." Wrapping her arm around the tiny shoulders she guided the
teenager back inside.

As they climbed the wide staircase the head mistress explained that most of
the classrooms were on the first floor. The second floor she told her
charge, as they rounded the hallway to the next level, was dorm rooms for
second and third year students. They made the final turn to the last flight
of stairs when Mildred informed the child that the third floor was the
instructor's apartments and the freshman dorm rooms. There wasn't another
soul in sight.

"Am I the only one here?" Chantel asked.

"Actually sweetheart right now it's just you, me and Barbie". We like to
have the freshmen arrive one by one so we can give them very personal
attention. The other first year girls will be arriving three a day for the
next few days. When they're all here there'll be twelve of you... Here we
are" the older woman opened the door to a spacious little room about ten by
ten feet. The two dominant pieces of furniture were the three quarter bed
in one corner and a desk with a hutch in another. With the desk chair
pushed under the desk there was still plenty of room to walk around in the
center. Chantel was appraising her new home when Barbie arrived with her
suitcase.

`Wow she's strong' the dark skinned girl marveled `she lugged that
monstrosity up three flights of stairs all by herself?' the blonde teenager
set the bag down in the doorway.

"If you don't need me right now mam I'm going to go down to the second
floor common room."

"That's fine, thank you Barbie." Mildred agreed.

The new student studied the wardrobe she'd be wearing for the next three
years before her fellow student disappeared back down the stairs. It wasn't
all that bad. The head mistress opened the closet door recessed into the
wall beside the desk. Hanging neatly were ten white blouses, three plaid
skirts and two blazers.

`Well it'll save a lot of time wasted deciding what to wear,' the teenager
thought and it amused her.

"I'll explain laundry procedures and so on to you tomorrow," miz Brown
announced as she selected one of each of the uniform components from the
closet. "Right now I'll show you to the washroom where you can freshen up
after your long journey and change into your uniform. Do you want to take
fresh undies?" Chantel thought there was really no reason to change her
underwear or even shower, if that's what her instructor was
suggesting. Never the less she hoisted the behemoth suitcase onto the bed
and extracted white cotton bra and panty set.

A half a mile away in the specially constructed "viewing room" off her bed
room Miranda Marcott sat at the console manipulating a joy stick. The
little lever positioned one of the two cameras in the bedroom, in every
bedroom, cleverly disguised in the wall sconces. The strategically placed
spy tools allowed her to see every square inch of the room; in most cases
from two angles. She had merely to enter the room number and the twin
twenty inch monitors displayed camera A and camera B. right now she was
zooming in on the young black girl leaning over her suit case, appreciating
what a fine ass she seemed to have under the patterned silk dress. She was
thinking how fortunate it had been that the class of '97 had produced an
M.I.T.  Graduate. It made it so much easier to upgrade the old system to
this state of the art technology. It had been very expensive, but worth
every penny to the quintessential voyeur.

Millie Brown and her newest student left the bedroom. Miranda didn't bother
to switch to the hall cameras, but instead selected the ones in the
bathroom. There were eight of them covering the open area, the toilet
stalls and the showers. The room, of course, was empty. Screen A and B now
displayed the marble interior of the open area. Doctor Marcott had never
been pleased with the sound from the washroom microphones. The acoustics in
the stone room were horrible and she often found she had to use headphones
to hear what was being said. She watched with jaded interest as her Head
Mistress entered carrying the girl's new uniform on three separate hangers
followed immediately by the chocolate skinned teenager.

"Let me help you," the Mistress was saying as soon as they arrived in the
shower area.

Chantel was shocked when the older woman accompanied her into one of the
four shower cubicles, and began to unzip her dress. The small dressing area
in front of the actual shower stall had a towel rack on the right hand
wall, with four big fluffy white towels on it. The short wall beside the
door provided four clothes hooks. On side opposite to the towels was a
small wooden bench attached to the wall. The cubicle had a door but there
was no door blocking the change area from the shower area. When the dress
zipper reached the bottom of its travel at the top of the sumptuously round
teenaged butt, her adult assistant shoved it off her shoulders causing the
thin material to slide down her arms. Chantel automatically clutched the
semi shed top of the dress to her bosom to cover herself.

`Maybe she's was just helping me unzip' the teen thought `and now she'll
give me some privacy.'

When miz Brown stepped around her and gripped the front of her loose dress
she knew she'd been wrong. As the Head Mistress tugged the expensive
material from her clutching fingers the young miz Williams was inclined to
resist but something in the older woman's eyes told her it was
futile. Chantel clung to her modesty for a second and then let the
Academy's Administrator take her dress away. Lowering the fine fabric she
said "OK step out honey." The girl raised each foot in turn and the matron
acquired full possession of her clothes. "It's a lovely dress" she
commented as she hung it on one of the clothes hooks beside the still open
door. "We'll have it cleaned, and you can take it home with you at
Christmas."

The teenager felt the fluttering in her tummy. It was a lot like that day
when her stepmother had her try on the new undies. She was very glad right
now that Roberta had replaced her undergarments with the pretty, and
expensive, lace trimmed sets. They were cotton just like her old ones but
these had style and they matched. In spite of the fact that she was proud
of them she was fighting the urge to try and cover up.

Millie glanced up at the camera to make sure she wasn't obstructing her
boss's view before instructing the girl to turn around. The lace trimmed
white cotton panties fit so perfectly around the prominent chocolate ass
cheeks and provided such a spectacular contrast to the girl's dark skin
that it made the Head Mistress's pussy twitch. Her target was much higher
though. When the older woman slipped the hooks of her bra loose Chantel
felt her stomach drop as though she was on an elevator in free
fall. Suddenly there wasn't enough air in the cubicle despite the fact that
the door was still open.

"Turn back this way," miz Brown instructed. The thirteen year old kept her
cotton top from falling completely off as she turned.

"This is very pretty too" the Head Mistress complimented as she took hold
of the decorative shoulder straps.

Chantel was having such a flood of new feelings that her head was
swimming. She had never been exposed like this since her boobies had
started to grow almost two years ago—except for that time with her
stepmother. At least she knew Roberta—sort of. The woman who was about
to reveal her pubescent chest hardly qualified as an acquaintance yet.

She was familiar with nervous feelings in her tummy. The butterflies she
got when she had a test at school or when she had to go to a dentist or
doctor, but this wasn't like that. Part of her was feeling something very
different, something she couldn't quite identify. `Excitement,' she finally
recognized. `I think I have nice little titties. I wonder if Mistress Brown
will think so too?' when she realized that she actually wanted to show the
older woman her breasts it became much easier.

Millie had to suppress a gasp when the plump brown cones with their dark,
almost black centers came into view. She'd stripped many teenagers just as
she was doing now but there had only been two or three young women of color
among them, so the smooth milk chocolate cupcakes with their semi sweet
chocolate centers were a novelty.  The Head Mistress's womanhood was now
throbbing as she took hold of the lace around the girl's waist and began to
lower the teenager's last garment. Millie had to pull the panties out at
the back to get them over the developing derriere.

`She's going to have a bubble butt,' the matron decided `why is that so
much more common among people with African blood than in Asians or
Caucasians?' From her crouching position Millie got a close up view of the
lightly haired mound as the white cotton folded out of the way. Suddenly
she had way too much saliva and had to swallow a couple of times to keep
from drooling. The crouching woman was going much slower than necessary to
extend the time she was able to spend this close to the delectable
chocolate bun. Black fuzz covered outer lips that didn't quite close giving
miz Brown a tantalizing view of the crinkly dark inner folds. It looked a
little like a fat pastrami sandwich on a dark rye bun.

Chantel watched her underpants sliding down past her knees. She could feel
the Head Mistress's breath in her sparse pubic hair and it made her coochie
tingle even more. She was recalling the afternoon her step mom brought the
underwear home and made her try on every single one of the ten pairs of
knickers even though they were all basically the same. She recalled how
Roberta had run her hands over the cotton `to make sure they fit right,'
she'd said. Her father's gorgeous partner had run her fingers around the
leg elastic to make sure it wasn't too tight. `I was feeling so... so.... I
don't know... by the time she finished, I humped mister Muggs for an hour
before I could stand the feeling in my coochie. It was all so tingly and
crampy.' She was beginning to get those feelings again and mister Muggs was
over a hundred miles away.

Funny thing, the look on Roberta's face then and the look on miz Brown's
face now were very similar.

`I think she really likes looking at me down there,' the girl decided `it
makes me feel kinda special.'

She remembered how flustered her step mom had been when she left her room
after the underwear fitting session. Roberta was normally so cool and
collected, almost aloof. It was the only time the teen had ever seen her
composure slip. The Head Mistress was looking a little bit like that
now. Something new was stirring in her and it was a pleasant intoxicating
feeling. It would be quite awhile before the perceptive youngster realized
it was a feeling of power—dominance.

"Lift your foot honey," the crouching woman requested but her voice was
different than before. It sounded sort of strained.

Chantel once again lifted one foot after the other to enable Millie to
thread the panties over her feet. She heard a sound from the Head Mistress
and she thought it was a grunt of exertion from crouching for so long, but
it wasn't.

When her dark skinned plaything lifted her foot, the pulpy inner labia
parted just enough to provide Millie with a glimpse of the hot pink
interior. The contrast was so much more startling than with a white girl
that the crouching woman could not suppress a groan. She knew her boss
couldn't have seen the erotic display unless they'd had a camera embedded
in the floor.

`Why not?' she thought, `we've got `em almost everywhere else.'

In the mansion, as her Head Mistress stood up holding the thirteen year
olds underpants, Miranda shifted her hips forward in her chair and flipped
the dressing gown out of the way. At first she just gently ran her finger
tips over the protruding lips. Then she dipped two fingers in just far
enough to collect some of the slippery juice from the interior, returning
to her external caress with the benefit of lubrication. On the screen
Mildred was turning on the water and adjusting the temperature. The naked
teenager stood silently with her hands folded in front of her crotch.

"You're not going to wash your hair... are you?" the matron asked, offering
a shower cap to the naked girl.

"No... uh... I washed it this morning," Chantel replied putting the plastic
bonnet over and around her chin length hair.

When the girl was under the warm spray Millie snatched the opportunity to
give her aching womanhood a firm squeeze followed by a series of light
taps. The dizzy feeling that resulted made her sit on the little bench for
the rest of the show. The white soap suds trickling off the smooth tight
brown skin was spectacular.

The teenager had come to the realization that she was putting on a
show. She didn't know she had an audience of more than one but it wouldn't
have mattered. That unidentified feeling was getting stronger. She was
continuing to see similarities between this situation and the clothes
fitting session with Roberta. She remembered how her step mom had
complimented her on her nipples, saying what a beautiful young woman she
was becoming. Her father's partner seemed especially thrilled when her nips
stuck way out like they did sometimes.

`I think miz Brown would like that too,' she reasoned. As she soaped her
chest she was careful to give her boobs the stimulation needed to get the
dark centers standing at full attention, sneaking a peak at the Head
Mistress as she did so. The only problem was that it made the tingly achy
feeling between her legs so much worse. There were two other pussies that
were tingling and aching and only one was getting any relief.

Doctor Marcott's fingers now penetrated the outer barriers and stroked
slowly and deliberately up and down her steaming crease working their way
slowly toward the magic button with each successive stroke. Her left hand
operated the camera zoom to zero in on the teenager playing with her
breasts. When Chantel's thumbs bumped over her slippery taught pegs Miranda
felt a sudden surge and knew she was a `goner'. Several rapid flicks over
her pounding clit sent those marvelous waves of warmth and euphoria washing
over her.

Mildred Brown knew this had to end soon. Grinding her hips against the
hardness of the wooden bench was just not sufficient. She needed fingers on
her cunt, in her cunt, and soon. The way the nymph was stroking herself in
the shower was so provocative that the Head Mistress was convinced that the
teenager had Sapphic experience or that she was actively trying to get
it. Doctor Marcott was totally inflexible when I came to how new students
were to be initiated. Deviating from the process would bring the wrath of
God, but oh Lord she could almost feel that sweet little tongue on her
aching clit right now.

"Chantel, I have something I need to attend to right now so I'm going to
leave you for a while."

The girl in the shower turned as the matron spoke from the doorway to the
shower cubicle. The strain on the older woman's face was quite evident
`just like Roberta' she thought.

"When you're ready you can stay in your room or join Barbie down in the
second floor common room. There's a TV and games and lots of books and
magazines down there... you two can get to know each other." The last
thought she expressed in her parting instructions sent a shiver down her
spine. Picturing the color contrast of the blonde senior devouring the
black freshman's pussy was a high impact visual. "I'll find you later," miz
Brown assured her as she disappeared from the marble room.

The school's founder licked her own juices off her fingers as she saw her
attractive administrator leave the room. The chocolate delicacy in the
shower was rinsing off. When the girl began drying herself Miranda got up
and went into her bathroom to freshen up. A new show would be starting
momentarily in the Head Mistress's quarters and if she was lucky in the
newest student's dorm room.

Deprived of her audience Chantel was disappointed. She wrapped the bath
sheet around her, collected all her clothes and returned to her assigned
room. Once inside she stowed her uniform back in the closet and tossed the
other clothes on the desk. Flopping on the bed she stuffed the pillow
between her legs and began to rock her hips. The reduction of the ache and
the pleasant sensations started almost immediately. `I wish I had mister
Muggs,' the girl lamented. The pillow was nice but her teddy had this firm
little nose that she always thought was his best feature. Feelings of
contentment rolled over her as she rocked and she found herself comparing
the experience with her step mom to the one a few minutes ago with the Head
Mistress. It was so soothing and relaxing she drifted off.

Doctor Marcott was disappointed that the brown skinned teenager didn't
remove the towel when she started her adolescent sex play. After about a
minute she decided the show was boring and switched to Millie Brown's
bedroom cams. The school's administrator had not taken the time to
undress. She lay on her bed with her skirt flipped up, legs spread wide,
stuffing a large black dildo in her sopping snatch with her left hand while
fingering her clit furiously with her right. The erotic spectacle sent a
new series of pulses through the electronic voyeur's womanhood. Miranda
decided not to diddle this time. She contented herself with reaching inside
her robe and stroking her sensitive nipples while watching her subordinate
shudder and shake in what appeared to be a pretty powerful orgasm.

Chantel snoozed only briefly. She woke from her cat nap feeling incomplete.
It was the same when she hugged mister Muggs with her legs. It felt really
nice but it was like something was missing. Reusing the underwear she'd
arrived in she put her brand new uniform on for the first time. It didn't
surprise her that it fit perfectly. Time to see what the second floor
common room had to offer.

Next:

Chantel learns more about the Academy (among other things) from a real life
Barbie.

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