Allison's Education, Part 7 - Discipline

Allison's Education, Part 7 - Discipline

Story by All These Roadworks (2025).

Author's Note: Every chapter of "Allison's Education" will come to CHYOA in time - but you can skip ahead (and support its creation) by buying the premium e-book right now at AllTheseRoadworks.com for only $7.99 USD! (Click here to view in store.)

Also - my kinks aren't my politics. Please support positive, enthusiastic consent, and check out my content policy for more on how I engage with gender-degradation kinks in ethical ways. (Click here to view.)

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In first period at school the next day, the public announcement system blared to life.

“Paging the big-titted whore in Class 3. Please report to the office of Principal Smith immediately.”

Everyone turned to look at Allison. There was no doubt who the announcement referred to.

Blushing, Allison left the class and made her way to the principal’s office.

When she arrived, Principal Smith was sitting behind his desk. He indicated that Allison should close the door behind her, and she did.

“First, take off that ridiculous prostitute top you’re wearing,” snapped the principal. He stared at her with cold grey eyes from behind his spectacles, and his moustache quivered with contempt.

Allison wasn’t wearing a “prostitute top” – she was wearing the same white button-up shirt as every other girl in the school – but she knew that he meant. It was too small for her, and stretched lewdly across her large tits, and revealed some of her midriff. She didn’t want to strip in front of the principal, but she knew she had little choice, so she reluctantly unbuttoned her shirt and removed it.

“And the bra,” said the principal.

The bra was her spiked-cup bra. Ordinarily she would have been glad to be rid of it, but she didn’t want to show the principal her tits. But again, she had little choice. She stripped it off, and stood, arms crossed across her oversized fuckbags.

“Mr Crestin says you cockteased him yesterday,” said the principal. “Is that true?”

It was not, strictly speaking, true, and Allison wanted to say that. What had happened was that Mr Crestin had tried to **** her. But her parents had made it clear that this school was her last chance, and that if she were to be expelled, she would be expected to work in brothel. And arguing with the principal didn’t seem conducive to her chances of remaining at the school.

So she said, “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

“How precisely did you cocktease him, Allison?” asked the principal.

Allison blushed. She didn’t want to have this conversation – not here, with an older man, desperately trying to cover her giant breasts with her hands.

“I gave a speech in class on how big-titted girls like me deserved to be ****,” Allison whispered. “And… because my breast are so big… they’re always teasing boys, just naturally. And then Mr Crestin just wanted to do what I told him I deserved – but my pussy was locked, and he couldn’t.”

“Your pussy was locked?” asked the principal, archly.

Allison nodded.

“Show me,” said the principal.

Allison dithered. She didn’t want to show her cunt to the principal. And worse yet, to raise her skirt, she would have to uncover her boobs.

“That wasn’t a request, Allison,” said the principal, in a cold voice.

Making a little moan of distress, Allison lowered her hands – exposing the full expanse of her bulging rapemelons to his gaze – and lifted the front of her skirt, to show her panty-less cunt.

The principal stared at it, noting how her labia were pierced, and then piercings joined together by a padlock – and how a cowbell hung from a chain connected to her clitoris.

“Come here,” he told her.

She awkwardly approached him.

He opened a drawer of his desk, and extracted a tiny key. He inserted this into the padlock on Allison’s cunt, and the lock sprang open. The principal took the padlock, and placed it back in the drawer with the key.

“This is not the first chastity lock I have seen, Allison,” he said, “and I simply do not allow them in this school.”

“But…” said Allison, “… my father wants me to wear it. So I don’t get pregnant.”

“If you don’t want to get pregnant, then simply avoid being such a whorish cocktease,” said the principal. “From now on, every morning before class, come to me, and I will remove your lock. Then visit me before you go home, and I will replace it. Your father will never know.”

Allison blushed. After more than a week with her cunt locked shut, having it open and accessible felt… slutty. She felt more nude than she had been with the padlock in place.

“And then there is the matter of you teasing Mr Crestin,” said the principal. “Look at my computer screen, Allison.”

Allison looked – and was surprised to find it covered in porn. There were multiple images and videos open. In one, a woman was having her tits crushed painfully in some kind of vice. In another, a woman was being fucked by a dog. In a third, a man was urinating on a woman’s naked breasts.

“This is the life that big-titted cockteases, lead, Allison,” said the principal. “This is the life they deserve. Big-titted cockteases exactly like you. I want you to understand that there is no difference between you, and the women in these videos.”

Allison felt herself blush with shame. She wanted to argue that she was different – that she was a normal teen girl, and these were whores – but honestly some of them looked to be the same age as her, and she could not immediately think of a clear reason that she was different from them. Some of them had visibly smaller breasts than Allison’s own.

“Do you want this, Allison?” asked the principal. “Do you want to be pissed on and fucked by animals?”

“No, sir,” said Allison in a small voice.

“Then I am going to try and help you,” said the principal. He opened another drawer, and extracted a metal ruler. “I am going to beat your tits for you. I am going to beat them until they hurt so much you remember to be ashamed of them, instead of showing them off. And while I do, I want you to look at the screen, and picture the things on the screen happening to you.”

The principal took her right breast in his hand, lifting it up from beneath – and then he brought the ruler down on it, hard.

Allison screamed.

“Oh, a noisy one, are you?” asked the principal. He reached into his drawer again, and this time brought out a pair of white panties.

Where had they come from? Some other student? Had they been worn?

Allison didn’t get an answer to these questions. The principal swiped the panties across the cleft of her cunt – absorbing the juices of arousal that her traitorous pussy was producing – and then he pushed them into Allison’s mouth. With another hand he ripped off a stretch of duct tape from a roll, and used that to tape Allison’s mouth closed.

“Now,” he said, “let’s continue.”

And Allison had **** but to stare at the pictures on the screen, her mouth full of the taste of her own cunt, as Principal Smith began to beat her breasts with the metal ruler. Every hit was agonising. She was sure there would be bruises.

On the screen, one of the videos changed to show a big-breasted girl fucking her cunt with a spiky toilet brush in front of a crowd of men. In another, a buxom girl was twisting and struggling as a muscular man **** her.

Allison’s tits hurt so much – and yet she had learned a way to deal with pain. Experimentally, she wiggled her hips, and found that she could bounce them a little without bothering the principal, or interrupting his **** of her fuckbags. So she began to bounce her hips, as if fucking an imaginary dick – and with each bounce, her cowbell clit weight tugged painfully at her clitoris, stimulating it, and making her pussy buzz with pleasure and arousal. The cowbell jangled, but the principal didn’t seem to care.

She knew that she was training herself to associate breast **** with arousal – but she didn’t care. It was better than feeling the pain with no endorphins in her system. If she was going to feel pain in her fuckbags anyway, it was better to be aroused for it than not.

To her disappointment, she didn’t manage to cum before the principal was done. Instead, she was just left in a confused mix of arousal and agony. She was so wet she could feel her cunt juices trickling down her inner thigh. She looked down at her tits and saw dark purple bruises on them in the shape of the ruler, and they were throbbing in nearly overwhelming pain.

“There you go, Allison,” said the principal. “Let that be a lesson to you. And if I get any further reports of your cockteasing, you’ll be back here for another round of discipline. Now, off you go – and I’ll see you at the end of the school day to replace your lock.”

Allison staggered away from his desk. He hadn’t ungagged her, which was good, because when she put the spiked bra back on her tits, she tried to scream at the sudden overwhelming pain. And then putting the too-tight top back in place over that bra was more agony still. She thought she could hear the principal laughing at her muffled squeals.

And then she almost ran out of his office, still gagged.

But she wasn’t running to get away. She was running to find what she needed. She might have gone to the women’s toilets, but a part of her mind told her that she was a big-titted cockteasing whore, and she didn’t deserve privacy. So instead she went behind the gym building, in a tiny space between two trash-filled dumpsters. She sat against the wall, and pulled her skirt up to her waist, and then began rubbing her pussy.

She was **** to cum. She needed to cum.

She had thought that her cunt being unlocked would let her find normal female sexual release by masturbating in the normal fashion. But as she plunged her fingers into her fuckhole, she began to realise that fingering her cunt wasn’t doing it for her. To her frustration and horror, she couldn’t reach orgasm.

She realised what was missing. She realised what was needed. Instead of finger-fucking her twat, she instead took hold of her cowbell chain, and began to yank it. And with her other hand, she gripped her breast, and squeezed, pushing the sharp tacks on the inside of her bra into her bruised, abused titflesh.

It was almost enough. Almost… something more was needed…

She thought about Mr Crestin trying to **** her. She thought about telling the class that big-titted sluts like her deserved ****. She thought about the women on Principal Smith’s screen, being pissed on, being ****, torturing their cunts in front of an audience.

And with that, she was cumming.

She screamed into her gag as loud as she could, enjoying how muffled it was, how impotent it was, how helpless she was, orgasming here like a whore behind the gym.

Principal Smith was right. This was exactly what she deserved.

(TO BE CONTINUED)