Continue tour

‘We, let’s carry on the tour I think,’ said Poppy. She had plans to keep her ass from being fucked for as long as possible. She really couldn’t stay at this school, she’d been tied up, spanked, made to give head and was walking around with no panties on - and the Head girl had just said she would probably be fucked in the ass before the day was out. She formed a plan - as soon as everyone was in their classrooms for next lesson and they were somewhere quiet on this tour, she would simply run away, maybe ask to go to the toilet and then get into the grounds and escape.

She was introduced to the French teacher, Monsieur Grande, who seemed to have his eyes glued on her skirt and ass. And when the bell went and girls started entering his classroom, Maisy playfully showed him her ass by bending over the desk. The teacher teased her ass by pulling on her plug, yet never actually letting it stretch the sphincter enough to release. She giggled and the other girls just watched as if it were completely normal.

She asked where the nearest toilets were and was directed down a corridor, Maisy saying she’d meet her at the stairs. She walked round the corner as directed and straight passed the lavatories, breaking into a run. Down a flight of stairs onto the ground floor she saw a door into the gardens and practically ran through it, escaping down some steps and across the lawn.

The fresh morning air felt deliciously cool on her bare pussy as she sprinted across the manicured front lawn towards the high perimeter wall. She’d done it, beaten another school.

Then as she rounded a privet hedge she saw the Head Teacher. He was talking to a gardener, naked from the waist up, wheeling a wheelbarrow. She was running so fast she couldn’t stop and cannoned into the surprised Head teacher, who held her. She immediately tried to wriggle free.

‘Poppy? Well, well, well. Trying to escape are we? You really are most disobedient. We haven’t had a new girl try to escape during the tour for some years.’

Maisy appeared round the hedge at this point, ‘sorry Sir, she did a runner after asking for a lavatory,’ she said breathlessly.

Poppy was squirming and trying to pull free from the Head Teacher’s grasp. Her hands, not for the first time today, we’re pinned behind her back.

‘Maisy, it’s not your fault. Poppy obviously needs a lot of training. She doesn’t seemed to have grasped how we do things here. An attempted escape requires a very high level of punishment. Could you please go and visit all the classrooms and inform teachers that I need all staff and students in the school hall immediately.’

Ten minutes later she’d been frogmarched into a small theatre, with raised seating on which all the girls were sat. At the front was a stage with a few chairs & stools, a table, and a lectern. She guessed that the ten or so men sat on stage were the teachers. There was silence as she was led onto stage.

The Head explained to the crowd that Poppy had tried to escape, at which there was a huge gasp, and therefore needed to be punished in front of the whole school. Poppy had been stunned into silence, having spent most of the journey from the garden crying. It all felt like it was happening to someone else. She zoned out and just looked down at the floor.

‘Poppy - you have three choices. Suggest your own punishment and if we, the teachers, deem it sufficiently serious, it will be carried out. Or you could let our Head Girl Maisy decide on the punishment. Or, even though I’m not sure you’ve met him properly yet, Mr Footlong, our Maths teacher, is your personal tutor; he could decide your fate. Which is it to be?’