Chapter 6
The next afternoon Karen was summoned from her math class by a messenger sent by Headmistress Mollingford. When her teacher called her name and told her where she was to go, Karen was instantly filled with a sense of apprehension. Betty was also in her class and as Karen gathered her books and belongings for the trip to the Headmistress's office, she glanced at Betty, who also had a look of fear on her face. Karen felt her legs trembling as she walked out of the classroom and walked down the hallway on her way out of the building.
Headmistress Mollingford had her office in another smaller building across the compound. Karen had never been in the building before, which most girls said was good luck. Usually only girls who were disciplinary problems, either scholastically or otherwise, were summoned to her office.
As Karen slowly strode towards the building she knew very well why she had been summoned and she was becoming more fearful with each step of what was going to happen to her when she got there.
She remembered last night, although only with a fogged memory, even though she was ashamed when it happened. She remembered Miss Weaver standing over them after she had turned the room lights on and how she looked at them with a disgusted and defiant look on her face.
There was no hiding what had just gone on between them. Miss Weaver had entered the room just as they had all finished cuming. The room smelled of their sex and sweat and they were all piled in a tangled heap. Mary was lying there with the brush handle still firmly implanted in her hole, and Betty still had had middle finger shoved in Karen's ass-hole, even though they were no longer moving.
As the three of them slowly returned to reality from their sexual rocket ride, they began to grasp the situation. That their noise and moaning had alerted their strict dorm supervisor, Miss Weaver. She has passkeys to every room in the dorm and she entered just as they were completing their frenzied daisy-chain of sex.
But even though they had been discovered in this humiliating position, they could still not fully respond to the gravity of it because of the effects of the pills. They were not only sexually and physically exhausted, they were stoned.
Miss Weaver then flicked on the light switch and illuminated the room for a clearer view of the girls. She had closed the door behind her immediately so that no one else had seen her enter. When the three girls were finally aware enough and scared enough to regain some of their composure Miss Weaver ordered them the stand up in front of her. " Even as stoned and scared as she was Karen could still remember most of what she had said.
"What is going on here?! " she demanded, looking down at them with a rierce look. "You stand up this instant and explain yourselves." And as the three girls began to slowly respond to her command she said to Mary, "take that brush out of your cunt young lady and hand it to me."
Karen remembered how humiliated and confused Mary looked as she slowly removed the long handle from her oozing cunt, and how her hole made a loud farting noise as she removed it. In the deadly serious silence of the room the juicy, burping noise sounded magnified to her a hundred times.
Mary stood up with the other two and sheepishly handed the brush to Miss Weaver, the handle still smeared with her cunt juice and soaking Miss Weaver's palm when she took it from her.
"Just what have you three little sluts been doing in here?" she demanded. Karen remembered being shocked to hear Miss Weaver use a phrase like that. She always looked so prim and proper and official acting. She was very authoritative, and the street slang word, slut coming from her mouth alarmed Karen. She sensed that Miss Weaver must be extremely upset and angry.
Before any one of them had a chance to say anything in return she said, "You don't have to tell me what you were doing, because I saw it for myself. And this brush handle is evidence enough! The three of you are disgusting, little pigs! If you think you can act like little tramps in this dormitory you are mistaken! Now the three of you little perverts get into your beds and you will be dealt with tomorrow!"
Now, as Karen entered, Headmistress Mollingford's office she was frightened because she knew there would be no way to explain the situation to the Headmistress, or lie her way out of it.
When Karen finally reported to the office superintendent she was told to go not to Headmistress Mollingford's office, but to the one next to it. The disciplinary office.
When she entered, her legs were shaking and her stomach felt so queasy that she thought she would throw up soon, she saw no one in the room at all. She felt suddenly a little bit better and gazed around the office somewhat in surprise. It was a very nice, very comfortable looking office and she suddenly wondered why they called it the disciplinary office. But then she remembered that Headmistress Mollingford's office was right next door and she was afraid again.
There were two doors on opposite sides of the office and when the one on the far wall opened Miss Weaver strode in wearing her usual business-like attire, Karen felt a sweep of humiliation come over her.
She remembered Miss Weaver's face as she stared at her lying on the floor and watched
Betty remove her finger from her ass-hole. And she remembered Miss Weaver defiantly telling her to wipe Mary's cum off her face. The memory of being discovered like that, and the humiliation it caused her now overwhelmed any of the fear she was feeling. She couldn't look Miss Weaver in the eye as she closed the door behind her and walked to her desk Sitting down behind it she looked disgustedly at Karen and said, "Put your books down and sit in that chair you little slut."
There again was that word. For some reason, coming from Miss Weaver made her feel the most totally ashamed of herself that she ever had.
She quickly obeyed Miss Weaver's command and sat opposite her desk on a straight backed wooden chair that looked out of place in this office.
"What you young sluts did last night was disgusting," she said immediately. Karen's eyes were lowered in total subjugation, but Miss Weaver ordered her to raise them and look at her when she was speaking.
Karen did so but already her vision was hampered by the beginnings of tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She wanted to say something that would make Miss Weaver understand that what had happened last night between the three of them was not something disgusting and perverted, but something that was done out of affection and need, and impulse. But she knew it was not her place to speak yet, and she doubted that she could anyway. She knew her voice would be too choked with emotion to say anything meaningful.
"Headmistress Mollingford will be in her office shortly," Miss Weaver said coldly while folding her hands together on the top of her desk. She doesn't know about this incident yet, but I intend to inform her of it as soon as she arrives. When she's told about it, you and your two slutty roommates will be expelled from this school forever and the fact that you are sexual deviates will go down on your permanent record here and any other school which requests your records.
Karen sat in dumbfounded silence. She hadn't really considered what the consequences of what happened last night would be. She had been too consumed with shame and humiliation to be much concerned with punishment And when she had thought of it briefly she hadn't imagined expulsion from the school. After all, her parents had paid a large amount of money to this school, she didn't think they could expel her.
Almost as if reading her mind, Miss Weaver continued, "the money that your parents have paid for tuition is non-refundable, as they agreed to when signing your tuition contract. They will lose every penny."
The thought of her parents finding out she had been thrown out of school for being caught having sex with girls, and on top of that, not getting their money back suddenly filled Karen with a feeling of dismal helplessness. She couldn't even imagine what her parents would do to her next.
Suddenly Karen wanted to plead with Miss Weaver, try to explain what had happened, beg her not to report the incident to Headmistress Mollingford , and Miss Weaver sensed it because she said, "is there something you wanted to say Miss Karen Tramp?"
Again the humiliation of her tone of voice and the impending doom it carried with it made Karen grimace with a painful expression. But she knew she had to say something in her defense, something to try and work herself out of this situation.
But when she finally had collected her emotions to the point where she could speak, the only thing that came blurting out of her mouth was "Oh, please Miss Weaver, please don't have me thrown out of school!" And as soon as she started speaking, tears began rolling down her cheeks as testament to her frightened state.
"I'm not having you thrown out of school," Miss Weaver said back calmly, Headmistress Mollingford will be the one who expels you when I tell her.
The words that came out next were blurted as an instinct to save herself without even having to think about it. "Then please don't tell Headmistress Mollingford," she begged with an urgent tone.
Miss Weaver sat and coolly appraised Karen, who was trying to stop crying and retain her composure. A small, wicked twist came to the corners of her mouth as she waited a few seconds and then said, "It is my job and my responsibility to report this incident to Headmistress Mollingford. Besides being your dormitory supervisor I am also in charge of the disciplinary committee directly under Headmistress Mollingford.
Karen's only hope began to fade more and more as Miss Weaver continued to speak. "What you did last night was disgusting. We don't want little sluts attending this fine, educational institution. For infractions of most rules at this school you are disciplined according to strict standards, but for what you were involved in last night I don't think mere discipline will be adequate to Headmistress Mollingford."
Karen sat as still as she had when she first sat down except for the slight heaving of her chest and rippling in her throat as she struggled to keep herself from crying.
"Please," she asked again pathetically, "please don't tell the Headmistress. Well never do anything like that again," she promised. "Can't I just be disciplined for breaking some other rule?"
Miss Weaver leaning closer to the edge of her desk so that she was a little closer to Karen and said, "You mean for some other rule like ... taking drugs?" Almost in a flash Karen remembered the downs that Betty had given them. With everything else she was worried about she hadn't even though about them. And now that she did she wondered quickly how Miss Weaver even knew about them.
Again, as if she were reading Karen's mind, Miss Weaver said, "Betty left the bottle on the desk. I have them right here." And as proof she pulled out the bottle of pills from the drawer and sat them on top of the desk for Karen to see.
She lowered her eyes quickly in defeat, but was told to raise them again, which she did. Then Miss Weaver pulled out Karen's hairbrush, with the long thick wooden handle that Mary had ashamedly pulled out of her hole and handed to her the night before.
"I think this is all the evidence we'll need to show the Headmistress and your parents," she added with a cruel tone.
"Oh, please, no" Karen blurted out. The sudden thought of her mother and father that she had fucked herself and another girl with her brush was terrifying to her."
To embarrass and humiliate Karen even further, to exert her power over the frightened young girl Miss Weaver handed Karen the brush and made her take it. Karen did so, her hand trembling, wondering what the purpose of it was.
"I want you to smell the handle and tell me what you smell," ordered Miss Weaver without the slightest faltering. She was dead serious and Karen knew it.
Raising the handle of the hairbrush to her nose she lightly smelled it, but could immediately identify the odor of her pussy juice. Even if she had not know what had happened with that brush, the odor was unmistakable.
"Sniff it harder," ordered Miss Weaver, 'and, louder!'
Again Karen obeyed immediately and sniffed at the handle with loud snorting noises.
"Now tell me what you smell," she was ordered again.
Karen struggled to bring herself to say it, but couldn't at first. She was struggling to keep her composure and although tears were again slowly trickling down her cheeks she knew by the look on Miss Weaver's face that she would have to comply with the order. And now. :
"I ... I...," she began to stammer, holding back the sobs that she wanted to cry.
"You what?" taunted Miss Weaver, "You smell what?"
"I smell pussy juice Miss Weaver," she said obediently and trying to please Miss Weaver.
"And how did pussy juice get on the handle of that hairbrush?" she confined to taunt and interrogate Karen.
"This time Karen could not suppress the sob that emanated from her chest. It was a final defeated, humiliating and sorrowful sigh.
"Pussy juice got on the handle," she struggled to explain after she caught her breath again, "from Mary Brewster's pussy."
Attacking her like a cross-examining lawyer, Miss Weaver quickly asked, "Did Mary Brewster stick that handle into her pussy?"
"No," Karen said sadly shaking her head, not even trying to deny it, "I stuck that brush into Mary's pussy."
"And you fucked her with it until she came all over it and that's why it stinks the way it does now. Isn't that right?" Miss Weaver demanded with the satisfaction of someone who knows they're right.
Again Karen nodded her head in the affirmative and barely able to talk between the tears, but saying, "Yes Miss Weaver, I fucked her with it and it's her stink on it."
Karen now felt lost. She knew she would be expelled. But through her own despair she thought of the love she had for her two roommates and the affection she had for them. They were two of the closest friends she'd ever had. She suddenly though that perhaps she could save them from the same fate by taking full responsibility for the incident.
"It wasn't Mary's idea to be fucked with the brush Miss Weaver, it was my idea."
To show Karen that she knew she was trying to cover up for her two friends Miss Weaver retaliated with, "And who's idea was it for Betty to eat your pussy and stick her finger in your ass-hole?"
Even though she knew she had been found that way, the words coming from Miss Weaver were still humiliating her. But she still tried to keep up the front.
"That was my idea too," she told Miss Weaver, "I made Betty finger-fuck my ass-hole. They've never done anything like this before," she said.
"Oh, but you have," Miss Weaver countered again triumphantly.
Karen was sorry she had said it like that because she know felt that Miss Weaver knew even more, and if she was to go on trying to defend her friends and roommates she would have to admit to it.
"Yes, I have," she said, lowering her eyes again. "I've fucked another girl with a hairbrush. It was all my idea."
Miss Weaver sat silent for a moment and appraised Karen. "This is more serious than I thought," she said out loud, but as if she had intended to talk to herself. "If what you say is true, then possibly your two roommates were led astray by your bad influence."
Karen said nothing, but nodded her head as if agreeing with her.
Then, as an afterthought, and attempt to again involve her roommates she said, "But Betty still had pills. Downers, as you young sluts call them. Did you convince her to pass them out too?"
Again Karen said nothing, but slightly moved her head to indicate that she had.
Miss Weaver knew she was lying, but she had her where she wanted her. She sat silent another moment or two eyeing her prey before pouncing.
"I'm going to have to reconsider this for a day or two," she informed a surprised Karen. "This is very serious and I don't want to have to see any girl expelled unless it's absolutely necessary and she deserves it."
Suddenly Karen felt a small ray of hope. Not so much for herself really because she felt that she was lost, but for Mary and Betty. If Miss Weaver would believe her lies than maybe she could keep them from having to face Headmistress Mollingford and being thrown out.
Miss Weaver abruptly changed her tone and manner as though she had just reached a long sought after decision.
"I want you to go back to your classroom and continue on your normal schedule for the rest of the day. Tonight, after you've completed your assigned homework I want you to appear at my room. I want you there no later than ten o.'clock. Do you understand that you little slut?"
Karen was so relieved to be leaving the office without having to face the Headmistress, and the knowledge that Miss Weaver still might not involve Betty and Mary that she didn't even react to the phrase "slut" this time, even though Miss Weaver still said it with the most degrading tone of voice and expression on her face.
"You've got some further explaining to do tonight," she explained, "and depending upon the outcome of our little conversation, I'll decide as to what to tell the Headmistress tomorrow and who I shall tell it about."
Not yet in control of her emotions Karen began to sob lightly again, more as a relief, she thought, than trauma.
"Now get on your way," Miss Weaver said dismissing her, "and remember, be at my room no later than ten O'clock or you'll be punished for that too."
"Yes Ma'am," she replied as she obeyed and left the office.
And as she walked back across the compound to her classroom, she felt a strange sense of somehow she could work her way out of this along with her roommates. Somehow she had to keep from being expelled from school. If only she could find a way to do it. If only Miss Weaver wouldn't tell the Headmistress . ...