The training of three petites

The heavy double doors of the special lessons room swing open as you step inside, the smell of sweat and sex hitting you instantly. Mr Harrison has Channy’s limp body bouncing on his cock, her blonde hair swinging, her eyes rolled back, a thin line of drool trailing from her slack lips. He’s got her by the handle of that special collar, lifting her up and slamming her down onto his shaft with brutal, steady rhythm. Her schoolgirl skirt is bunched around her waist, her tiny tits bouncing free from her unbuttoned blouse.

“Headmaster,” he grunts, not breaking stride. “Just in time. The new ones are about ready for inspection.”

He nods toward the corner where Sandra and Hallie hang from ropes tied to ceiling hooks, the ropes looped around their necks, their bodies limp and twitching from the latest choke-release cycle. The vibrators strapped to their cunts hum softly, and the shock plates between their thighs glisten with wetness. Their eyes flutter open as the monitor releases the tension, and they gasp, sucking in air, their bodies trembling.

Mr Harrison gives Channy one last hard thrust, holds her there, and then pulls out, letting her slide off his cock onto the floor. She lands in a heap, moaning faintly, her legs twitching. He steps over her, wiping his dick on her skirt, and walks to the two hanging girls. He hits the release mechanism on the ropes, and they drop to their knees, gasping, the ropes slithering away from their necks.

“On your feet,” he barks. “Stand still. Master wants to see what he’s bought.”

Sandra and Hallie scramble up, their schoolgirl uniforms rumpled, their blouses hanging open, revealing small, firm C cups with hard nipples. Their skirts barely cover the tops of their thighs. They stand at attention, hands clasped behind their backs, eyes downcast.

You walk around them slowly, your boots echoing on the linoleum. Mr Harrison steps beside you, matching your pace. You stop in front of Sandra, reach out, and hook your fingers under the hem of her skirt. She flinches but doesn’t pull away. You lift the fabric, exposing her bare cunt—completely shaved, smooth, the lips slightly parted, glistening with arousal from the shock training. She’s trembling, her breath shallow.

“Good,” you say, your voice low. “Very clean. No hair at all.”

You slide your hand between her thighs, cupping her mound. She lets out a soft whimper. You press a finger between her labia, finding her clit, hard and swollen. She gasps, her hips twitching forward. You circle it once, twice, then withdraw, leaving her shuddering.

“Turn around,” you order.

She obeys, presenting her pert ass. The skirt lifts easily, revealing the tight curve of her cheeks. Mr Harrison reaches out and parts them, exposing her rosebud. It’s a tiny, pink pucker, untouched. You smile, step closer, and press your thumb against it. She tenses, a sharp intake of breath.

“You’ve been saving this one,” you say to Mr Harrison.

“Only the best for your games night, Headmaster. She’s never been breached. That tightness will drive the teachers wild.”

You apply pressure, and the ring of muscle gives slightly, allowing your thumb to sink in to the first knuckle. Sandra cries out, a high, thin sound, but she doesn’t move. Her body shakes, but she holds her position. You twist your thumb, feeling the hot, velvet grip of her insides, then pull out slowly. She’s slick with her own juices.

“Beautiful,” you murmur.

You move to Hallie. She’s slightly taller, but just as petite. You repeat the inspection, lifting her skirt, finding the same bald cunt, the same neat slit. She’s wetter than Sandra, her arousal running down her inner thigh. You slide two fingers into her pussy without warning, and she moans, her knees buckling slightly. Her walls clamp down, greedy and hot.

“This one’s eager,” you say, pumping your fingers in and out, watching her face contort with need. “She’ll be a favorite.”

You withdraw, bring your fingers to your mouth, and taste her. She’s sweet, with a hint of salt. Mr Harrison grins.

“Shall I have them bend over the desk for a proper demonstration?”

You glance at Channy, still lying on the floor, slowly coming around, her eyes unfocused. Then back at the two trembling girls.

“No,” you say, stepping back. “I want to imagine them at the games night. Being passed from teacher to teacher. Each one taking a turn with those tight little holes. Choked until they’re limp, then fucked until they wake up begging for more.”

You reach out and cup Sandra’s chin, tilting her face up. Her eyes are wide, scared, but there’s a flicker of something else—a desperate need to please.

“You’re going to be the star of the show, little one. Every teacher will want a piece of you. And you’ll take it, won’t you?”

“Yes, Master,” she whispers.

“Good girl.”

You let her go, turn to Mr Harrison. “Keep training them. I want them ready by Friday. And keep Channy in rotation—she’s still the best demonstration of the choking technique.”

“Of course, Headmaster.”

You take one last look at the three girls—Channy stirring on the floor, Sandra and Hallie standing at attention, their cunts wet and ready—and then you turn and walk out, your cock already hard again, thinking about the games night ahead.