Summer's Early Tribulations

The weird expression of her mother’s ringing in her ears, Summer looked more closely at the imposing stone frontage of the building, some ominous feelings creeping into her normally assured mind. What kind of remark had it been from her outwardly patrician mother? A frank admission that she was wise to the slutty exploits of her daughter? A premonitory wish about the way she hoped she might turn out? Some kind of overt foreshadowing of what was to await her inside the school?

Summer’s immaculate brow creased in momentary irritation. All seemed plausible; and yet why just fire off that remark and then accelerate away in a cloud of dust? Her mother’s limo even now was just receding out of the long driveway between the manicured grounds of the house. There was of course the delicious apprehension for Summer that her indiscretions had made some kind of impression on her mother. That much was satisfying. Summer wondered which escapade had given it away. The delicious recollections of her teenage sexual derelictions were innumerable, quite an astonishing feat for a mere eighteen year old and an attribute of which she was inordinately proud.

There had been the incident where she had fucked the local school football team into collective exhaustion and her mother had come home from a weekend away to discover eleven near-comatose athletes arrayed all around the living room, fully naked, speckled with perspiration and fatigue, barely able to lift their limbs to crawl away from the site of awesome erotic debauch, cum splattered on just about every surface of the room. Summer hadn’t actually been caught red-handed at the scene of the crime, though she had wondered if a silhouetted profile of her face captured in a particularly thick batch of cum against one of the walls hadn’t been incriminating.

That might have been a teensy giveaway as to her sluttish tendencies, Summer reflected, although equally, the time when her mother’s friend Thorbert Engleson – someone apparently quite successful in digital films of some type or other who had come around to court her mother for a business meeting – made the mistake of bumping into Summer in the hallway of the house while her mother was busy in the kitchen, and, less than ten seconds later had been discovered with his trousers round his ankles and a horny, stacked, blonde teenage slut slurping on his meatstick like a lollipop.

‘It’s not what it looks like,’ Thorbert offered to Summer’s mother, as she stood framed in the doorway she had just opened with a bottle of champagne and two glasses on a tray.

‘It really is,’ Summer corrected Thorbert, casually taking the fat, veiny cock from her slurping mouth long enough to spit out the rejoinder, without bothering to look at her mother, before engulfing his cock once more.

Well, thought Summer, those incidents might have led her to her current situation. It had added up as far as the journey in the limo, where Summer presumed that she was being punished by being squirrelled away in god damn convent school or suchlike, made to study under lock and key and far away from the temptations of the flesh. Surely, she had reasoned to herself all the way through the car journey to this awful place – surely that was the reason that she was here?

Nonetheless, now, her mother’s odd, tantalising parting shot had disallowed that assumption, and now Summer was completely thrown, not knowing what to expect, not really knowing why she was here. The thrumming of the vibrating objects inside her ass and pussy, previously a comfort to her, now seemed strangely awkward, as if she were afraid to assert her personality.

In any case there was nothing to be gained from lingering on the steps of the institution, so Summer stepped up the long stone staircase, her thoughts still somewhat occupied by the past carnal triumphs of what she now ruefully thought of as her old life, one that seemed a million miles away from her present scenario. A particularly pleasing memory of a simultaneous quadruple facial cumshot passed through her mind, the delicious sensation of a hot, sticky dousing from four hot cocksmiths she’d met in a club two weeks ago coming vividly into her mind, a stark mental image of four toned, muscular bodies and thick cocks being jerked directly in her face as she hung her mouth open, winked up at them and waggled her tongue before four jets of hot semen cascaded into her face –

THUMP!!!!!

The busty blonde teen’s reverie was interrupted by a thick, fat, wet sound that came from her left. Summer looked, stunned by the concussive sound. One of the large bay windows to a downstairs room nearest the entrance hall as she was approaching it appeared to be vibrating. Peering further, she saw that one pane of glass in that whole window section appeared to have been whitewashed out. This was the one that appeared to be reverberating.

THUMP!!! WHUMPPPPP!!!!

In a couple of instants, two further panes, adjacent to each other, appeared instantaneously whited out, almost as if some emulsified liquid had been projected onto it. It happened so fast and with such **** that Summer still couldn’t fathom what was happening. She hesitated, poised between two steps on her platform heels.

‘It won’t stop!!!!’ came a shout from inside the room, ‘Oh my God it won’t stop!!!!’

Alarmed at the voice, Summer’s eyes widened as the transparent glass of another three windows were blotted out into white opacity.

‘Jesus Christ!!!!’ Came the voice once more. It couldn’t be called a voice in distress, however. If anything the shrieking male sounded… pleased, excited? Summer was nonplussed, but now not surprised at all to see more of the window panes succumb to a quick, thumping, plastering whitewash in succession.

THUMP!!! THUMPPPPP!!!

If Summer hadn’t known better she might have assumed that something was going on in that room, since the sexually excited tone in the voice did betray a certain lewdness. Finally, whoever was proclaiming their really quite individual difficulties released a final baritone cry that petered off into nothingness:

‘RRRRRROOOOOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRuuuuuuunnnngggggggggmhh…’

At which point all of the windows finally went explosively white and everything was quiet inside the room.

‘O….kay…’ Summer said to herself, her brow furrowed for the second time in quick succession, this time quizzically as she made her way up the steps, through the large front doors and into a cool marble atrium. There was a sweeping staircase in front of her, corridors to the left and right and a number of doors in the hallway. The room from which the odd commotion had been occurring was to the left, though the door was closed and there were no more sounds emanating from it.

There was no-one about. Summer thought for a moment about what to do. The instinct to investigate the door on her left tantalised her, and for a moment she thought that she would tiptoe over to it to see if she could glean any information, either by listening at it or opening it a crack.

The sound of heels clicking on the marble floor abruptly dissuaded Summer of that. Quickly she shook her head to clear it and stood upright to meet whoever was coming. Dolled up as she was as a blonde teenage fucktoy in transparent stripper heels, fishnet stockings, her underwear-clad pussy on show as it peeked out of her minuscule plaid microskirt, she felt the amount of flesh she had on show would give her the edge no matter who she was meeting. With a swift jiggle she slightly realigned her enormous knockers within her white blouse so that the bronzed cleavage of her massive jugs was better exposed.

‘Fuck…’ was Summer’s first words at who came into the hallway.

It was a luscious brunette girl bout her own age. One side of her hair was shaved and the other cascaded in a long waterfall of straight, inky dark hair down her back and the other side of her face. Summer was shocked to see six or seven ropes of thick white fluid stand out on her hair, clinging to the thick tresses. I couldn’t be cum, could it? But what other explanation was there?

The girl was dressed in an oversexed approximation of a French Maid’s outfit, except while it was notionally black it was made from some kind of transparent gauze material that meant that it was completely see-through, a one-piece dress with a tiny white frock-pinny on the front of it emblazoned with the word ‘SLUT’ on it. Unlike Summer, the brunette wasn’t wearing any underwear, and so her shaved pussy was lusciously on display, as were the colossal protruding mounds of her monumental tits, a pair of knockers that stuck out from her chest in two awesome, spherical peaks and had the effect of tenting out the wispy material of the costume and lifting the lower hem of the dress up above her pussy. Like Summer she was also wearing fishnet stockings on her long slender legs and also wore black shiny platform stripper shoe with transparent soles.

The maid advanced upon Summer, holding a tray in her hands. She was wearing white, fingerless, elbow length latex gloves. On the tray was a card. As the girl stopped a couple of paces away from Summer, the young blonde could see that the card has the words ‘Summer Cane’ on it.

‘I’m not really a maid, I’m just fucking with you,’ was the first thing that the brunette said. ‘It’s just a sort of… fancy dress. My name’s Lana Lay, but everyone calls me Easy.’

‘Please to meet you, Easy,’ Summer said, not sure about whether to look at the obvious rope of jizz that clung in the new arrival’s hair or not.

‘I’ve been serving drinks upstairs for some of the legacy parents. Sometimes they get a bit excited. I’m actually a final year student. What do they call it… a student ambassador. Anyway, here, take the card.’

Summer picked up the card from the tray and read the other side. On the other side it said ‘B12’.

‘It just says B12,’ Summer said.

‘That’s the room you’re to go to,’ Easy said, ‘it’s right over there,’ she pointed down a corridor.

Easy waited, a smile playing on her lips. She looked as if she were going to say something. Then she didn’t. But the smile was irresistible as she turned and then Summer saw, as she were walking away, a an implement sticking out of the middle of girl’s delectable and shapely posterior. Between Easy’s smooth buttocks the handle of a fat black latex dildo could be seen, with a plume of black coming out of it making it look like a horse’s tail. Summer gulped. That was hot.

After the clicking of Easy’s heels receded down the hall, Summer got herself together and headed in the direction that the note had indicated. It took her down a corridor bedecked with old paintings and the odd suit of armour with the windows of one side of the corridor looking out over the lawns. The other side of the corridor had rooms, each with a ‘B’ number on it, and as she counted her way down, Summer found she could look into the window of one of them. Another odd commotion seemed to be taking place inside.

Peering in, Summer glimpsed a view of a chestnut haired woman on her back, her shoulders contacting the ground with her elbows braced against the floor holding up her waist so that her torso protruded up into the air. Her mile-long legs, with shiny red-stripper heels and white latex stockings, were splayed horizontally wide, and a skintight PVC uniform had slid down her body so that her pussy was thrust upwards at the ceiling.

‘I mean, can I be any more obvious?’ the woman was saying, ‘come and piledrive me, studs!’

From the corner of her eye, Summer saw two large, well-muscled men advance grinning towards the slut on the floor, and pulled her head back quickly to avoid detection. What the hell was going on in there? A fetish nurse was on her back on the floor, offering her pussy and asshole up for men? It was hot but so brazen!

Her mouth open in shock and eyes ablaze, Summer stumbled away from the door and further down the corridor, whereupon she saw that the very next room was B12. She opened it and went in.

This room was slightly different. Oak-panelled and sedate, it was everything you would expect from a classroom in a well-off school, with desks in rows against one desk at the head of the classroom. Entirely conventional, and therefore like nothing she had experienced in the school thus far, there were two men in it, a younger and older one. The younger man, who was totally hot-looking, was in a suit and resting against one of the desks nearer the door, apparently expecting her. Dressed in a suit, he had fair hair and looked well-proportioned. The other man, bald, about forty-five, was dressed in a corduroy jacket and was sitting at the head of the room.

‘You must be Summer,’ said the younger man. He showed apparently no surprise at the blonde teenager’s fuckdoll appearance, and Summer, finally recognising that she could have her way with these men, posed, hand on hip.

‘How do you want me?’ said Summer, licking her lips.

‘Here will be fine,’ said the younger man mildly, indicating a chair, ‘so glad you could join us. Please.’

Summer shrugged, dropped her suggestive pose and sat in the chair, splaying her legs sluttily and chewing noisily. Finally she found it a little easier to be herself.

‘Now do you know why you’re here?’ the younger man asked.

‘I’m supposed to go to this school, I think. I think this is, like, an interview?’ Summer said.

‘Not really an interview, Summer. My name is Ben Ironwood, and this is Professor Schutzen-Schlong. This is sort of… appraisal. You’re meant to be coming here as a legacy student, meaning that there’s no formal interview process. This is more... to acclimatise you?’

‘Acclimatise me?’ Summer scoffed, and looked at each man in turn. She kicked her legs upwards and rested them on the desks to either side of her, one hand pulling her soaked v-string away from her slippery pussy. ‘Don’t you mean break me? Try and make me conform to your rules?’

The Professor peered over at her and spoke for the first time, his words tinged with a German accent.

‘Young lady, I must tell you in all candour, if this were an interview process, you would already have undoubtedly failed. And failed miserably without any redeeming attributes. You have already been given ample opportunity to demonstrate what kind of a person you are and have signally failed to do so.’

Summer gulped, her mouth going dry.

‘In fact you have had three clear situations where we have been testing your mettle, seeing what you are made of, so to speak,’ continued the professor, standing and walking to the end of the dias at the front of the classroom while he continued his exposition, ‘you were given the opportunity to investigate an extremely interesting situation occurring in one of the rooms adjacent to the entrance hall: “it won’t stop”, and so on? And yet you did not do so, perhaps because you are inhibited perhaps?’

Summer swallowed. This wasn’t going exactly to plan. The professor continued his advance towards her, coming down the middle row of desks.

‘And then you met Easy, did you not. Such a nice girl, such a good opportunity to meet someone in a meaningful way. And yet you did not take advantage of the opportunity to meet that nice girl, did you?’

Summer looked up at the two men, who were now standing over her.

‘And then the third trial,’ the Professor Schutzen-Schlong continued, ‘the easiest of them all, the simple opportunity that was given to you next door, to meet the school nurse and her two friends. It was all there for you. And yet you didn’t avail yourself of it. Why not, I wonder?’

Summer scrutinised both the faces peering at her, then looked down, where it was apparent that both men’s right hands were wandering to their trousers.

‘So yes, I’m afraid you would have failed. It’s a rare student that doesn’t fully express themselves when they come here on interview day. In fact, quite a good example of a good applicant is one that doesn’t make it to their interview at all, as they are already having… adventures. You’ve shown no such inclination. So the question is…’

There was the unmistakable sound of two zippers being pulled down.

‘Why should we let you into this school at all?’