[I wanted to add that this book has a concrete storyline and isn't as cliche as you might think. Thx babe]

Welcome to Berkshire's School for troubled young ladies. Here your daughter will be taught discipline, obedience and will be led down a mature path of guidance as the life of womanhood is ahead of her. All of the following will be directed by the head of our school; Mr. Harold Styles.

If you have any questions or would like following information please contact us.

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"I'll show you filthy sluts what it really means to be punished."

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The girl is on her knees. She is naked and covered in perspiration. A silk mat separates her from the hardwood floor. Several red stripes decorate her back and ass. Slick moisture is collecting on her warm crotch. Her hands are behind her, bound at the wrists with purple silk ribbon. Her arms strain as she yearns to touch herself.

The room is large and mostly empty. At the four corners of the ceiling, surveillance cameras are watching her. Near her is a tall, little table with items on it that she dare not think about. There is one window to her left.

Some time ago she wondered what a man might try to do to her, even if she was isolated. With her thoughts fogged by lust, now she can think only of the sexual release she craves.

Behind her a door opens. She hears footsteps as the man approaches. His boots make loud sounds on the hardwood floor. She starts to turn her head to him. She gasps as the riding crop he carries makes another red stripe on her back.

"Eyes front!" The accent commands.

She looks forward. She can barely form words.

"Please," She says with a gasp. "Please let me-"

"Silence. I had come to tell you that your punishment is almost over. But you just spoke four words. That means your punishment is now extended by twenty minutes."

"But-"

"Twenty-five."

"Oh God..."

"Thirty-five. So now, you have more time left than I had originally given you. You need an additional incentive. So I will start again. Tsk-tsk. You really should learn to listen." He smirks, showing a dimple. He walks over to the small table and picks up a vibrating wand. He places the toy between her dripping thighs. The large head of the wand rests against her wetness.

She whimpers as she bites her lip to stop herself from speaking. Yet as he turns on the wand, and the hard vibrations against her womanhood turn her will to mush.

"Ohmygod!" She looks up at him. She feels a confusion of fear and lust and adoration and need.

"Fifty extra minutes." His smirk turns into a mischievous smile. "Will you try for a full hour?"

She bites her lip and shakes her head.

"Good choice. You can learn. There may be hope for you yet." He pats her head gently. "I will be back in ten minutes to check on you," he says as he walks out.

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Coming Valentine's Day

How was it?

xoxo

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