Academy (part 1) by Whitish Monkey    Back.

Melvyn stood apprehensively as the imposing woman walked around him.  She examined him from every side with the air of someone performing a disagreeable but necessary task.  He'd never met quite such an intimidating female before and he was more than a little nervous.  It wasn't just that she was at least ten years older than his own 18 years nor the fact that she was a good head taller.  No, it was the way she walked with the air of somebody used to having their orders obeyed (instantly!) that cowed his normally rebellious nature.  The swish of her long, black leather skirt, the sharp click of her heels on the wood floor and the softly threatening slap, slap, slap, of the crop in her right hand against her leather-covered thigh didn't help.
"Well?" asked his stepmother.  "What do you think?"
The woman stopped her pacing to stand in front of Melvyn frowning down upon him.  "Oh, Amanda," she said shaking her  head and making her long, blond curls fall - quite attractively Melvyn couldn't help noticing - across her shoulder.  "It's really a big favour you're asking you know?"
"Yes Catherine but you've known me long enough to know I wouldn't ask lightly", she replied.  "He's always been a little wild and since his father died last year he's been totally uncontrollable - thrown out of three schools already!", Amanda answered.
Melvyn never thought of Amanda as 'his mother'.  His parents had divorced when he was very young, his father's money and lawyers gaining custody.  Melvyn could never figure out why for almost immediately he had been dispatched to a series of boarding schools.  His memories of his father were of fleeting visits with a cold and distant stranger.  He hadn't even been invited to the wedding when his father married Amanda, a woman thirty years his junior, after a holiday romance.  By the time the old man had his heart attack a year later Melvyn could conjure up very little feeling for him. 
His reminiscenece was broken by a sharp crack as Catherine brought the crop against her leg with a decisive whack.
"Very well Amanda.  We'll take him in and see what we can do", she said.
A startled "What!" escaped his lips as Amanda nodded her thanks and made to leave.
She turned back to him and addressed him in a contemptuous tone.
"Miss deSachi runs a very small and elite finishing school.  I have imposed upon an old friendship to ask her to take you in hand", she said.
Anger flooded his voice.  "I'm not going anywhere with this bitch!", he shouted.
Suddenly he felt a stinging pain in his cheek and realised with surprise that Catherine deSachi had struck him with the crop.  He reacted instinctively by balling his fist and drawing back his arm to land a punch on her jaw.  It never connected.  With an unnerving swiftness Miss deSachi's hand lashed out and wrapped itself around his wrist, dragging him off-balance towards her. 
"That", she whispered darkly.  "Would be a very big mistake".
Melvyn tried to tug his arm back but her grip seemed to be made of sprung steel.  Instead of releasing him she increased the pressure and began to force him down.  He fought to prevent an agonised gasp escaping his lips as he felt his wrist bones begin to grind together.
Catherine deSachi spoke to him in  a calm, matter-of-fact tone as he slowly went to his knees before her.
"Listen to me boy.  Right now you are nothing but a foul-mouthed, bad-tempered vandal.  But in a very few years you will have to take over the reins of your father's businesses.  With some careful training I'm sure we can turn you into a passable version of a human being.  You should know I run a very strict school here and one of the prime rules is that you commit no acts of violence of any sort.  Is that clear?"
Melvyn's entire consciousness was focused now around the agony Catherine's elegantly slim fingers were engendering in his wrist and he barely managed a jerky nod to her query.
"Good!", she said suddenly releasing his arm.  He couldn't help himself from sucking in a great, noisy draught of air as the pressure lessened and he stayed on his knees, gently massaging his bruised skin as she continued speaking.
"I'll think of an appropriate discipline later for you but now you can get on your feet and follow me boy".
Melvyn scrambled to his feet quickly as Catherine spoke to Amanda.
"You can leave him in my care.  I'll let you know when I'm satisfied with his progress".
Amanda nodded with a smile and just as he turned to follow Catherine through a rear door, Melvyn could have sworn he saw the two women exchange a knowing wink.

The interview had taken place in a bare room of large and very remote mansion.  Amanda had driven them for several hours from the city along deserted country roads to get here.  As Catherine led him down a long corridor, white walls and bare floor echoing their footsteps loudly, Melvyn realised he hadn't been following the route so he had no idea where the big, old house actually was!  He didn't have much time to think about his predicament though before Catherine stopped at a door no different from the many others they'd passed, turned the handle and said; "In here".
He surprised himself with the swiftness with which he moved to comply with her order but the dull resentment that began to build in him was washed away almost immediately as he found himself standing in a high-ceilinged classroom before an attentive audience of beautiful young women.  He counted twenty five girls, each around his own age he estimated, seated primly at high, old-fashioned wooden desks.  Catherine's crop in the small of his back encouraged him to cross to the top of the room where another attractive woman was just putting a book down on a desk.  She was just as imposing a figure as Catherine though in a different way.  As he came up beside her at Catherine's urging he discovered she was equally tall but her clothes consisted of a striking contrast of polished black calf boots, skin-tight white trousers and an equally clinging high-neck black jumper that stretched revealingly over the swell of firm, high breasts.  Where Catherine was a pale blond in complexion this woman was dusky-skinned with a mane of jet black hair that fell well past her shoulders.  She returned his stare with a quick up-and-down look that clearly consigned him to the class of 'repulsive insect'.  Catherine began introducing him.
"Miss Acciaio.  Class.  This is Melvyn Warner.  He will be attending our academy for a while". 
The class of young women exchanged glances and tittering whispers at this until Miss Acciaio clapped her hands for silence. 
"I realise", Catherine went on.  "That accepting a boy into an all-girl school is a somewhat unusual step but I'm sure you will treat him as...", she smiled thinly, "...just one of the girls".
A gamut of emotions cascaded through Melvyn's head as Catherine continued speaking, outlining the classes he would be taking.  An all-girl school!  What the hell sort of set-up had Amanda landed him in?  He scanned the amused faces of the class of girls, a flush rising to his cheeks, for what teenage boy can stand the undivided attention of a couple of dozen beautiful young women with equanimity?  Embarrassment gave way to a calculating anticipation as he began to realise the carnal possibilities of being the only male among his classmates and by the time Catherine had finished speaking and ushered him out of the room he was almost smiling to himself with expectation.  As she had a few final whispered words with Miss Acciaio, who nodded briskly, he began to plan his first conquests.  He didn't know it but his fantasies of endless erotic escapades were about to be put, very securely, on ice.

Catherine marched him along some corridors, up one flight of stairs, along more hallways, then down two flights of stairs.  He felt sure they were going in circles.  Eventually they came to a door which she opened and ordered him inside.  He found himself in a long, white-tiled shower and changing room.  To his surprise he found Miss Acciaio and another woman were waiting there.  Miss Acciaio had changed out of her jumper and trousers into a snug halter top and even snugger, cut-off denim shorts which revealed the shapely length of her superbly formed legs.  He couldn't help noticing, with a small shiver, the long, slim shape of a riding crop held casually  in one hand.  The second woman wore a loose white T-shirt which she started to pull over her blond, pageboy cut as they entered.  Revealed underneath was the most fantastically muscled body Melvyn had ever seen on anyone, man or woman.  A silver, one-piece  swimsuit emphasised her deep tan and did nothing to hide the muscles that rippled along her limbs with every slight movement. 
Catherine spoke to the two women.  "I'll leave him in your care for now ladies.  Return him to my study when you're done".  She strode regally out of the room without a word to Melvyn.
"Strip", said Miss Acciaio without any further ado.
"You what", Melvyn asked in surprise.
The women exchanged a glance then the muscular blond stepped close to Melvyn so that he had to crane back a little to meet her gaze.  She was not quite as tall as Catherine but her sheer muscular bulk was incredibly intimidating.  Melvyn got the impression that she was only waiting for an excuse to snap his body in half.
"You're new here boy so listen carefully", she began and the suppressed fury in her tone made Melvyn's spine shiver.  "You will obey any and all orders given you by an instructor instantly, fully and with enthusiasm!  Failure to do so will, in future, be met with the severest discipline.  Am I making myself quite clear?"
"Yes, very clear", he answered in a neutral tone.
"That's 'Yes Madam' and 'No Madam' boy", she snapped.
"Yes...Madam", he reluctantly uttered.
She stepped back and Melvyn breathed a little easier.  "I am Miss Kearn and I teach physical education, sport and self defence.  Miss Acciaio, to whom you have already been introduced, teaches English and history.  Later on you will be presented to Miss Sekia and Miss Anglique who teach Arts & Crafts and Sex Education & First Aid respectively.  Now.  You will strip yourself or we will do it for you".
Slowly and reluctantly Melvyn began to disrobe.  As he removed each item the women threw it into a small, wooden chest.  When, after a little further encouragement in the form of a painfully hard slap across his buttocks from Miss Acciaio's crop, he had removed his underwear, Miss Kearn closed the lid and slipped a large padlock through the clasps.  "You won't be needing those for a while I think", she said.  "Now, stand to attention".
Melvyn stood mute and miserable.  Despite his best efforts, his manhood had swollen to embarrassing proportions in the presence of the two beautiful and revealingly clad women.  He tried to conceal his organ by cupping his hands in front of himself but Miss Kearn moved behind him and, reaching round his torso to grasp his wrists had yanked his arms firmly to his sides.  Still holding his wrists she lent forward until her lips were almost brushing his ear. "Stay!", she whispered.  The warmth and pressure of her brests pressed against the naked skin of his back caused him to swell further but he didn't think of disobeying her quiet order for even a moment.  Releasing her grip she walked around to face him where the two women examined his slim form with distaste. 
"He's not much to look at is he?", commented Miss Kearn.
"No, they never are", answered Miss Acciaio.
"And I'm sure his mind is just as unimpressive", Miss Kearn added.
"He'll just have to work hard to improve then", said Miss Acciaio.  "And speaking of unimpressive, we'll have to get rid of this", she added, sliding the tip of her crop slowly back and forth along the underside of Melvyn's engorged member.  With those words, and the touch of cold leather, Melvyn's skin crawled.
"Oh look", Miss Acciaio laughed.  "It seems to be vanishing of its own accord!" 
Miss Kearn stepped closer to look.  "But not nearly enough".  She strode to one of the open shower stalls against the far wall and spun the dial all the way over.  The room was filled with the hiss and splash of  the stream of high-pressure water.
"Get in", she ordered Melvyn.
He approached timorously and reached out a hand to the gushing jet.  No sooner had the water touched his skin than he snatched his hand back.  "That's freezing!", he complained.
The two women exchanged a knowing look then suddenly each grabbed one of Melvyn's arms, pulling it back and up then used the leverage they gained to thrust him forward into the icy spray. 
The shock of the water suddenly drenching him almost stopped Melvyn's heart.  He gasped for breath, a shrill whistling screech escaping his lips as goosebumps erupted all over his body.  He tried to struggle, to push himself out of the freezing deluge but the women simply twisted harder until he almost fainted from the pain, sure his shoulders were just about to pop out of their sockets.
"Stand still, boy!", Miss Kearn admonished.  "A little water never hurt anyone".
Needless to say, at the first touch of the chill water, his erection rapidly subsided.  Miss Acciaio nodded in satisfaction but they still kept him under the shower for several more minutes until his skin was a pasty white and his cock had shrunk almost to invisibility.  Finally they yanked him out of the cubicle and Miss Kearn took over holding back both of his arms - her muscular grip quite unbreakable to Melvyn's puny form -  while Miss Acciaio padded damply over to the second case.  The sight of the soaking, halter top and shorts clinging to her leith form as she bent over the case was enough to return a mild tingle to Melvyn's abused organ.
"Hurry up", Miss Kearn called.  "I do believe the little worm is becoming aroused again".
Miss Acciaio returned swiftly with a small, metallic silver device.  As Miss Kearn pulled him backward, arching his back and thrusting his hips forward, Miss Acciaio's strong hands deftly slipped the device around his genitals.  A wide, ratcheted chrome ring was clipped around the base of his scrotal sac by her slim fingers.  Watching his face intently she slowly tightened it, one mechanical 'snick' at a time, until she could see his eyes fairly bulge out of his head.  She then closed the ring one, final, satisfying further notch - engendering a gasp from Melvyn - before slipping his flaccid penis through a short, slim tube attached to the first ring via a small hinge.  The hinge allowed the penis to move up and down but only until Miss Acciaio threaded a slim silver chain attached to the end of the tube up, behind and between Melvyn's balls to clip securely onto the back of the ratcheted ring.  Melvyn felt Miss Kearn released his arms in a renewed flare of agony and the two women stood back to survey their handiwork.
"There!", said Miss Acciaio with a considerable degree of satisfaction in her voice.  "I hope you like your new addition.  You can consider it a permanent fixture while you're staying here.  It will assure that any ideas that little piece of worthless flesh gets are held firmly in check.  Now, you can stand at attention while we dry off the water your childish antics soaked us with.  Don't move and don't speak or it will be the worse for you!".
 The women grabbed towels from a nearby rack and began to rub themselves vigorously.  Melvyn stood, dripping and freezing, afraid to twitch in case he aroused the ire of his cruel mistresses.  The women seemed to take forever to dry themselves and after a while Melvyn noticed that their rapid towelling had slowed to a more deliberate pace.  The began to dab and caress at each other's bodies in a slow and lascivious manner.  Melvyn found himself becoming helplessly aroused at the sight of the stunning amazons standing closer and closer together, caressing each others firm, muscular flesh.  As the clean, white cotton was rubbed invitingly over breast and thigh and smooth, flat stomach, Melvyn's cock began to rise to the occasion.  In moments it found the limits of its tiny, new prison and began to hopelessly try to push its way out and up.  As it did so, the achingly tight chrome ring around the base of his balls was dragged agonisingly down and out, the slim chain dragged up until it felt at if it was trying to saw his balls in half.  His muffled whimpers were counterpointed by the low, aroused moans escaping from the women's lips as they stood now, breast to breast, belly to belly, arms encircling each other, caressing back and buttocks while the towels lay discarded at their feet.  Melvyn's body began to arch forward in a fruitless attempt to ease the unending torment in his balls.  He tried desperately to think of something else, anything to distract himself from the sight of the beautiful women embracing tightly in front of him but to no avail.  As their lips touched and they shared a long, lingering kiss he found he couldn't stand it any longer.  "Mmmm.. Ple...Please,  mmm...Please!", he murmured.
The women broke their embrace to grin wickedly at his mewling, twisting form.  "Well", laughed Miss Kearn.  "I hope you've learned that lesson.  The only reason men have balls is so women can crush them!"
"Yes", added Miss Acciaio, laughing along with her friend.  "And we won't hesitate to do so at the slightest opportunity".
He looked up into their faces and through the tears streaming from his eyes he saw only a remorseless, relentless cruelty etched in their beautiful features.
Miss Kearn scooped up one of the damp, discarded towels and threw it at Melvyn.
"Dry yourself off boy.  We have to present you at Miss deSachi's study.  Be on you best behaviour I warn you; she is nowhere near as kind and forgiving as we are!"
   
A short while later he found himself standing before Miss Catherine deSachi again.  For some reason he had expected her study to be a shadowy Victorian den full of old dark furniture.  He was somewhat surprised (enough to distract himself from the remaining ache in his genitals for a few moments) when he'd been marched in to find a light and airy room.  A top-of-the-range computer and flatscreen monitor occupied a wide, bleached-ash desk and several tasteful and expensive items of  casual furniture were scattered about.  The only jarring note was the dozens of dark splash-like stains on the pale wood floor.  He was desperately trying to convince his feverish imagination that they were not blood when Catherine began speaking. 
"Well boy", she began as she stood in front of him, again slapping her crop against her leg in an offhand manner.  "Did you enjoy your shower?"
"Yes Madam", he answered quickly, following carefully the expected formula as his two tormentors had instructed him.
"Good!", she said.  "And I'm sure we can manage to find a more suitable uniform for you tomorrow".
Melvyn didn't think his level of embarrassment could increase any further but he felt a fresh flush rise to his cheeks at the mention of the ridiculous costume the two women had thrown at him and ordered him to dress in after he had dried himself as well as he could on the damp towel.  They'd explained with a laugh that there were no 'boys clothes' in the building as he'd squeezed himself into the tiny, pristine white, girl's gym shorts.  He thought he'd gotten them as far over his hips as he was going to when the women had ordered him to stand with his legs wide apart.  They'd each grabbed a couple of belt loops and yanked savagely upwards several times until Melvyn could feel his testes being crushed up into his body.  Eyes watering, he watched as Miss Kearn then looped a wide, leather belt through the hoops, drawing it as snug as she was able (which, given her tremendous biceps, was breath-stealingly tight) before buckling him up.  On the long walk to Miss deSachi's study he'd found a breathing rythm that allowed him adquet draughts of air but the belt around his waist made his torso's lateral muscles almost useless for balancing.  He'd never realised before how difficult a chore just walking could be as he'd tottered and swayed along the corridors between the two women.
The crack of Miss deSachi's crop on his thigh broke his reverie.  "And, of course, you've been fitted with your genital clamp?", she queried.
"Yes Madam", he answered again.
"Good.  Very good", she nodded in satisfaction.  "I'm sure you must think it a terrible device of torture but it's really in everybody's best interests.  Firstly, I have some thirty girls currently resident and they must be protected from any rampant male lusts.  Secondly, the denial of your male, animal nature will free your mind to concentrate on the lessons you are here to learn.  Lastly, it is both the symbol and the cold, hard reality of your current position.  Make no mistake, you are completely in our sway, entirely at our mercy.  Amanda has given us carte blanch as to how we tame you of your errant ways and we intend to make full use of that liberty.  We will do whatever is required to break you of your brutish behaviour patterns and instil more socially acceptable ones.  Nobody but Amanda knows you are here, nobody will come to look for you.  Nobody will rescue you if you feel we are being too harsh.  Your tenure in this establishment will be until I am satisfied with your progress, be that six weeks or sixty years and during that time your manhood will be controlled by me alone".    
Melvyn's heart sank as he heard those fateful words.  He realised he'd been harbouring a tiny hope that this whole thing was some sort of 'short, sharp shock' therapy Amanda had dreamed up.  Hope fled as he began to realise he really was under the thumb of this group of sadistic women.
"Tomorrow you will begin your classes but for now there is the little matter of you inexcusable attempt at violence earlier today.  Let me think, what punishment would be suitable?".
Melvyn's heart sank - he'd totally forgotten he'd tried to punch Catherine at the interview!  His knees turned to jelly at the thought of what a punishment would be like given the severity of the treatment he'd received so far.
Catherine deSachi stood in silent thought for a few moments then clicked her fingers.  "I'll be leient with you since this is your first day.  You will spend the rest of the evening and the night in this study".
Stay in the study, Melvyn thought?  That doesn't sound too bad at all.  He was just wondering which would be the most comftorable couch to sleep on when Catherine strode over to a large footlocker against one wall.  She flipped up the top and motioned Melvyn over.
"Well, what are you waiting for?  Get in", she said.
Melvyn looked from the locker to Catherine in amazement.  The locker was barely three feet by three feet by four!
An edge of steel entered Miss deSachi's voice as she said; "Don't make me order you again!"
Slowly and reluctantly, Melvyn stepped one leg, then the other onto the wooden base.  "Now hunker down", she commanded.
Melvyn did as he was told.  He jammed himself into the cramped space as well as he could.  Catherine stood over his miserable, tightly curled form with one hand on the lid.  "You can spend the next few hours in here thinking on your wrongdoing.  The planks are lose enough to allow you air - probably.  Anyway, I'll send someone to get you out in time for classes tomorrow".  Darkness enclosed Melvyn as she lowered the lid.  He heard a muffled scraping then a very secure 'click' and he realised that a thick padlock had been fastened around the locker's latch - he was here for the night!

When Catherine finished attaching the padlock she walked through into the adjacent office.  She knew that the locker had sufficient holes to allow Melvyn to breath.  Murder wasn't the intention but a night in there would certainly soften him up for the following day!  Humming happily to herself, she dialled Amanda's number.  The old friends greeted each other warmly.
"Well?", asked Amanda.  "How is it going?"
"Pretty good so far", Catherine answered.  "He gave a little trouble at first but we soon took care of that".
"Do you think he will fit in?", asked Amanda.
"Oh, yes", smiled Catherine.  "He'll fit in like a square peg in a round hole.  But we'll soon knock the rough corners off him.  The instructors are just dying to get a boy in their class so they can show the girls just how weak and pathetic a sex they are.  If he thinks he's had a rough time so far just wait till he has his first day of classes!", she chuckled and both women laughed cruelly at the delightful suffering that would be inflected upon their hapless victim.

In his cramped, dark, prison - the ache in his contorted limbs already beginning -  Melvyn heard the faint peal of Catherine's laughter ring from the other room and his soul filled with dread at what the morning might bring.


END (of part 1)

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