Step-Daughter Slut School #1
You're going to Slut School, my girl.
Hi reader, welcome to Chapter One of the rewrite of my novel, Stepdaughter Slut School. I will churn out a new chapter every couple of days. I hope you enjoy the story.
I knew a big lump of shit had hit the fan even before descending the staircase. My stepdad, Keith, was furious about my recent general behavior, specifically a spate of drunken nights out. As I sat on the top step, I heard Mom yell at him from the kitchen, saying the most vicious things while they argued about me.
"You can't send her to Fanbury Hall, Keith. It's not a fucking finishing school; it’s a place where parents send their slutty daughters to be rewired. My daughter isn't going there, and that's final."
"Hannah is behaving like a slut, and it won’t be long before she’s taken advantage of if that hasn't already happened. She dresses in skirts far too short and often wears no panties. In case you didn't notice, our daughter escapes this house most nights, coming back excessively drunk in the early hours of the morning with no clue what happened to her."
"She's my daughter, not yours, Keith, and Hannah is eighteen now, which means she can do whatever she pleases."
"Eighteen is still a kid, and anyway, I thought we agreed to raise Hannah together?"
"Yes, but that's all changed now. You're not managing my daughter like she's an asset at your company to be moved around some fucking playbook."
"Is this about our shitty marriage Cindy, or are we focused on Hannah and her problems?"
"Keith, I don't want to hear it. You are not controlling, Hannah. Our marriage is only shitty because you can't turn the page and move on."
"That's a bit rich. Let me get this straight, please. You're saying your biological daughter is no longer my daughter to love and support as I have done since she was a baby because you fucked another guy last year?"
"I don't care how you describe what I did; just leave my daughter alone. She's not going to Fanbury Hall, and that's all there is to it."
"Okay, well, since it’s none of my business and she’s eighteen, Hannah must stop this behavior if she wants to keep an allowance from me. She can come to the office, learn, and earn like everyone else in her situation before college starts."
"You shouldn't threaten Hannah with money."
"I'm not threatening anymore. It's either Fanbury Hall and a change of her behavior or no fucking allowance. If she's your daughter but not mine, you can pay for her lifestyle, but I'm not helping until Hannah's life is back on the rails."
My Dad had a point, and I leaned far more to his side than Mom's, but he was wrong about me being a slut. I was out far too late at night, drinking excessively and hanging with the wrong crowd, but my virginity was intact because I was saving it for a very special recipient.
Keith had been kind by taking my mom and me in when I was too young to know any other father. In the beginning and for years after they married, our lives were extraordinary, and he was every bit the father I needed and loved. When the quarreling came, it was Mom to blame, not my Dad.
My fucked-in-the-head Mom messed everything up by having a six-month affair a year ago that almost broke my stepdad's heart.
Then I went loco and started drinking and acting out.
I sat upstairs on the landing, disheartened that I'd caused so much pain between two people I loved very much. I didn't want to become a slut, and the booze was making me feel sluggish and sick most mornings.
I listened to their quarreling, knowing it was all my fault on this occasion. When I could take no more, I ran downstairs, gate-crashing their argument, waving my hands like a crazy person, shouting.
"Can you two stop squabbling, please? Mom, I'll go to Fanbury Hall if that's what it takes to get sober and straightened out."
My step-father looked stunned. I was usually very confrontational by nature, but this time, I caved in, no longer willing to be the source of their unpleasantness. I had an alcohol problem combined with a rebellious nature and wanted to solve that before something terrible happened during one of my all-night benders.
Dad placed his hands on my shoulders, staring straight into my eyes. I saw love, concern, and a seriousness that scared me a bit.
"Are you being serious about going to Fanbury Hall, Hannah?"
"Does it matter what I say right now, Dad? Would you believe me anyway?"
"I think this will be good for you."
"I'll pack now, and we can leave right away."
Keith was already on the phone when I set off back upstairs, dismissing my mother with a slightly insolent wave. I would not become a pawn in her game of spite with a husband who had been nothing but decent to both of us.
She'd never tried to protect me from myself as Keith always did, and now reasonable boundaries had been stretched too far. I knew it; Mom probably did, too, but she fought Dad on every issue because he wouldn’t forgive her slutty indiscretion. I’d agreed years ago to a no-drinking rule until I was twenty-one, per the law in our state. I hadn't stuck by that and was proud enough to own my shit.
My step-father helped me carry two suitcases downstairs while mom fumed silently, waiting at the front door, annoyingly tapping her foot on a highly polished parquet wooden floor. I'd packed for a month-long stay at the renowned boot camp run by what my friends called the slut retraining school.
Mom barred my way through the front door and eyeballed me.
"Are you sure this is what you want, Hannah? Keith has no say in what you do unless you allow it."
I squinted at her, disappointed and angered she would draw me into her beef with my stepdad.
"He's the only father I've ever known. Why would you take him away from me, mom?"
"Keith's an asshole."
"No, Mom. You're the one who cheated. Keith did nothing wrong. You’re a slutty woman who doesn’t know when she’s onto a good thing.”
“Okay… maybe you should leave.”
“I will.”
I felt sad hugging and kissing her before we left because she was so filled with hate that I felt nothing but her negative emotions. Maybe we could have had a calmer discussion and agreed on me going later, but I couldn't blame Keith for wanting to be on the way quickly. He was a problem solver, and I was the problem.
I felt uncomfortable in the car with just two of us because Dad seemed deeply upset. Who could blame him? His life had become an episodic nightmare of arguing with a woman I doubted loved him anymore. I smiled at him, then leaned my head onto his shoulder without distracting his eyes from the road.
"I consider you to be my Dad. Don't worry what Mom says."
"Do you, though, sweetheart?"
"Yeah. You are right about me needing to change. You haven't got all the facts, but my alcohol consumption has reached dangerous levels, I am doing dumb things, and the people I'm hanging out with are nasty."
"Why not stop it all, then?"
"It's not easy to resist when everyone else is partying, and I'm not."
"I can understand that Hannah, but I'm terrified for your safety."
"I know, and that's why I'm agreeing to spend a month at Fanbury Hall for rewiring."
He chuckled, and I did, too. Neither of us believed the rumors, which I was sure were fomented by idle gossipers. Girls went there and never returned; some said they were incarcerated in the basement, where they remain today, and others claim the girls graduated and went on to new, beautiful lives.
"The rumors about Fanbury Hall can't be true, Hannah."
"I know. Will you be alright at home alone with Cindy?"
“Cindy, now?”
“She can’t be my Mom if she’s stealing my Dad. I don’t want to lose you from my life. It’s her choice to walk away from me, not mine.”
"I'll manage at home. You just focus on getting yourself healthy."
My problem was that I'd matured too quickly, got my period young, rebelled before I was fourteen, and was firmly off the rails by seventeen. Mom’s excursion off the marital reservation into a life of cheating tipped me right over the edge.
With college beckoning and a bright future after working at Dad's company, I knew my biggest obstacle was an untimely and frequent bad attitude that descended like a red mist over my eyes, taking control - usually alcohol induced.
I searched the school website on my iPad and scrolled through their standard prospectus material. The website made me feel unenthused because Fanbury Hall seemed like a boarding school where girls read poetry while gazing wistfully out of old sash windows, dreaming of their Mr. Darcy, or they learned to play croquet on a dull, flat lawn.
I found a secure portal at the bottom of their home page and clicked it.
"Did the school send any login and password details for their website with the booking confirmation you made?”
"Yeah, it's on an email I got ten minutes ago, Hannah. Here, check my phone."
I clicked the login link from an email on Keith's phone, keyed in a password they'd provided, and entered the school’s secure network. What I saw on the site was jaw-dropping. I had to flick through several pages, checking that the URL was genuine before I mentioned anything to Dad.
"Have you heard of pony play, Dad?"
"No. Is that horse riding?"
"Nope... what about paddling for obedience?"
"Sounds like kayaking. I expect this whole month will be physically challenging, Hannah, because that's how they instill personal discipline."
"Umm, Dad… do you know that every girl staying at Fanbury Hall must always have a guardian with her?”
"Do you mean someone like me?"
"Yeah. It says so right here in the school terms and conditions. I think they've assumed you'll be staying at the Hall along with me."
"Fuck, no way! I can't spare that amount of time and... and... I'm sure that can't be right."
"I think it is Daddy."
"Are you sure?"
I was stunned by images of girls bending over their guardian's knees being spanked with a bare hand, others that played naked croquet, and then more ladies wearing ball gowns, taking the hand of the man charged with their care to dance together.
This is so fucking weird.
"Yep, I'm sure, Dad. There's an induction session for both of us on day one, including a medical examination for me that you must attend as a witness."
"Jesus Christ. I can't stay with you for a month."
"Is that because of my poor behavior, Dad?"
"Oh, come on, Hannah, that's not fair. I love spending time with you. We used to be inseparable. I have to work, is all."
"Let's turn around and go home, then. Maybe Mom will join me another time - we can rebook.”
"We're almost there, Hannah. We must take a look around the place and chat with the principal to see if guardianship is a hard and fast rule."
"Okay, but I'll warn you now, Dad. This place isn't what you think it is."
If I showed Keith the images, he’d probably steer us off the road. Not attending Fanbury today meant going home for another confrontation with Mom, so I chose to keep the confusing and sleazy images I had discovered to myself.
I was surprised but also excited by what I’d seen on the website and figured this could be a great deal of fun, especially if my Dad stayed with me. He was a gorgeous and fit man. I’d had a crush on him since my early teenage years, partly because I acted up very young. I wanted and needed a thrashing, and I understood that about myself, but I hadn't secured one because Dad was too decent, and I was terrified to ask.
Watching videos of stepdaughters being spanked by their fathers dominated my online search history.
When he parked our Range Rover on the gravel area in front of an old mansion house, I think the dress code shocked him, too. The girls all wore ultra-short, slutty school skirts that barely covered their ass cheeks. Tight white blouses were tailored with bust darts below the breasts, revealing shape and nipple location perfectly, while white cotton ankle socks and black patent leather shoes finished a classic schoolgirl look.
I smiled at my Dad, enjoying his amazed expression and jaw that dropped wide open. When I nudged him in the ribs to get some attention away from the horny-looking sluts passing by, he smiled and shook his head in disbelief.
"We'd better get inside and buy me a uniform, Dad. Seems you like it here already."
"Umm, I'm still trying to figure out this place, Hannah. The girls are dressed wildly inappropriately."
"We agreed to try fixing me. I need discipline, or my life will get fucked up."
"Can you at least dispense with the potty mouth, Hannah, please? In fact, we both probably should."
"That's my point, Dad. I'm struggling to control myself and acting on pure impulse. Maybe this place can make a positive difference in my life."
He helped me out of the car, ever a gentleman at heart. I noticed other girls holding their guardian's hands, so I slipped mine into Dad’s, remembering happier days when I behaved nicer and more like his little girl.
The spartan feel of the wood-paneled hallway leading to the headmistress’s office matched the sober expressions and demeanor of the staff, girls, and their male guardians who strolled past me. From a snatched glimpse, I noticed one girl bowed her head, surreptitiously winking while flashing me a naughty grin.
I half turned while walking briskly, glancing at my step-father, who smiled back innocently, shrugging.
"Yes, this will be a great place to enjoy some discipline, Dad.”
"Are you sure, Hannah? The dress code seems slutty, but at least everyone is suitably miserable."
"Here's the place to find out, Dad."
We stopped, and I pointed to a small wooden and steel chain swing sign above a mostly glass door. The writing was brilliant white and hand-painted, striking fear into my heart. When Dad gripped my hand tighter, I knew he shared the same anxiety.
Headmistress.
Dad knocked sharply on a frosted glass panel, and we waited outside like a couple of kids in trouble.
"This feels weird, Dad, to be honest. It's almost like we're both in deep shit."
"I know. It's funny. This reminds me of when I was in school."
"Were you in trouble a lot?"
"All the fucking time Hannah, just like you. We're more alike than you realize."
“Potty mouth, Dad - remember?”
We chuckled, probably too loudly, because it echoed through the now-empty hallway. I felt the camaraderie and safety of a kid standing outside the head's office with another victim, even though my hand sat nervously entwined by Dad’s trembling fingers.
"Were both adults and terrified of an office, Dad? What the fuck is that all about?"
"Don't worry, Hannah. I expect she'll be very gentle with us."
The Headmistress's door opened from the inside, and an unexpectedly attractive middle-aged woman stepped out. She smiled with such assurance and friendliness that I was knocked off balance.
"Hello. You must be Hannah and Mr. Rodgers."
"Umm, yes, we are."
"I'm Trixy."
Dad was just as enthralled by the headmistress as I was, taking her handshake when offered. We followed her into the office, which felt like a museum, and I noticed him checking out her ass on the way. I saw sports memorabilia everywhere, with crossed hockey sticks on the wall among all kinds of other bats, balls, and racquets.
I gasped when I spotted a row of paddles pinned to the wall neatly arranged in size order. They ranged from hairbrush size to something more like a two-handed kayak paddle.
Holy fuck! Those must be for spanking.
I prayed Dad would be forced to stay with me at Fanbury Hall, if only for my protection from an overly zealous thrashing delivered by an expert hand. At least if he did it, I'd receive a measured spanking because he was kind and loved me.
Trixy pointed at two seats in front of her desk.
"Have a seat, both of you."
Trixy circled her desk gracefully, floating like an Albatross crossing a vast ocean. Keith was captivated by her beauty, but so was I, incapable of tearing my eyes away from her perfectly symmetrical face, full breasts, tight ass cheeks, and solid nipples pointing at me when she turned to sit.
Her voice was firm, compelling me to obey her whims in a way I'd never experienced before. Dad cleared his throat, and the headmistress smiled like a deadly assassin might when handing her victim a poisoned chalice.
"I think there has been some misunderstanding, Trixy
"What might that be, Mr. Rodgers?"
"Call me Keith, please."
"Umm, perhaps I will one day, Mr. Rodgers, but not today, and certainly never while you are in my office. Familiarity breeds contempt.”
My eyes popped out on stalks, and I choked, wanting to laugh out loud at the sass of a woman who just chastised a man who paid her thirty thousand bucks to correct his daughter's behavior. I gawped at him, then her, but she smiled nonchalantly at Keith like it was no big deal.
He’d been admonished like a child. Trixy stared at me, pointing a finger, moving it vertically.
"Hannah... please close your mouth. A lady only opens her mouth to eat, speak or fellate a worthy gentleman's cock. Are you doing any of those things soon?"
I choked and gasped, noting my Dad did the same.
It was Keith's turn for his chin to hit the floor and spit like a drowning man, but he handled it slightly better than me, recovering quickly. I drew my chin off the floor; Trixy nodded, satisfied, and turned her attention back to Dad.
Did she just say suck cock?
"You were about to explain the problem you believe we have, Mr. Rodgers. Before you do that, I'll say politely that your problem won't ever become mine, but I'm happy to help offer a solution if possible.
"Yes... well, apparently, your terms and conditions suggest Hannah must have a guardian with her for the whole month while she’s here."
"It's not a suggestion, Mr. Rodgers. It's an absolute rule. Was I less than clear on the school’s website?”
"I can't stay here for a month, so I'll have to arrange for Hannah's Mom to arrive later today, possibly tomorrow."
"That's not acceptable, Mr. Rodgers."
"Why not?"
"I would have thought it plainly understood without my explanation. This boot camp is for over eighteen-year-old wayward girls and their stepparents. If Hannah's mother is her biological parent and you are a stepfather, then how can you be swapped out?"
"Well... umm... that's very odd."
"What is?"
"Why must a step-parent accompany their daughter throughout her lessons at all?”
“Fanbury Hall remedies reconciles, or otherwise restructures the relationship between a step-daughter and her step-parent so that it aligns with their desired outcomes using an appropriate framework of discipline, love, and acceptance."
"Remedy, reconcile, or restructure?"
"Yes, Mr. Rodgers. Are you committed to settling Hannah down in your home?"
"Well, yes, of course I am. I just paid thirty grand, hoping to do just that."
"Then you must support fully here as her guardian for the month."
"Oh, my."
"The alternative is for you both to leave at any time, foregoing all fees already paid."
"Fuck!"
Her face turned stony, and some color drained from both cheeks. I saw displeasure writ subtly in her expression, noting it for future caution when interacting with Trixy.
"You're an American, Mr. Rodgers, and I am British, but I've picked up some of your colloquialisms and slang. Hear me well, please, and understand this. There is to be no more potty mouth while attending Fanbury Hall, and you just had a first and only strike. Since neither of you seems able to read our terms and conditions accurately, am I clear about that, at least?"
She smiled so beautifully at my dad, suggesting she might either sit on his face or offer him a cup of tea. I was gobsmacked, and so was Keith, whose bottom lip trembled like Mom's rabbit vibrator when going flat out.
"Abundantly clear, Trixy, yes... I definitely understand."
"Good boy... why don't you and Hannah run along now, chat in an empty form room, then decide if you'd like to stay.”
She stood and politely ushered us from her office, ensuring we understood that our time with her was up.
“Let the Form Mistress know if you want to stay at Fanbury Hall. She's down the hall and will process you both, offering suitable accommodations based on your relationship choices. If you're not staying with us, meeting you both was a pleasure. Goodbye."
She nodded her head, shaking both of our hands while gently pushing me out of the door, using a firm hand that clenched my ass tightly. When we were alone in the hallway, I had to hold a hand over my mouth to stifle a fit of giggles. Dad's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish until he found the words to speak.
"That's the most polite fuck off, and stop bothering me, I’ve ever heard, Hannah."
"Me too."
"Where is the form room?"
I glanced down the hallway and saw a sign for the nearest form room. Once inside, we laughed out loud while Dad paced around what looked like a registration or standard classroom. The old-style wooden desks had flip-top lids, and inkwells were reamed into the solid wood end pieces.
Two iron grip exercise bike-like handles on the forward edge of the desk looked perfect for a girl to hold on to while someone issued her ass paddling from behind. I said nothing to Dad about it, hoping he wouldn't notice because I really wanted to stay and try out some of the rituals I was sure they had on the curriculum.
He looked worried, took my hands, and I noticed his fingers trembled.
"Is it too weird, Hannah, or would you like to stay here? "
"Yes, please, Dad. I'd really like to stay."
"I'll have to stay here with you, and I'll confess, it's already getting a bit weird for me."
"Don't worry, I'll protect you from Trixy, Dad."
"I doubt either of us is a match for her, sweetheart."
"Can we stay, please?"
"Yes, of course. I guess we'd better go and find the Form Mistress."
We strolled further along the hallway until a sign confirmed where our Form Mistress was. Dad rapped on another door, and a pleasant-looking older woman opened it, bidding us to walk in with a wafting hand.
For some reason, she addressed me rather than Keith.
"You've decided to stay then, Hannah?”
"How do you know who we are?"
"Ahh, the booking was marked as an emergency, and you’re the only new registrant we have today. Everyone else arrived yesterday and is already settled in, trying things out. Now... sit at a desk and fill out the questionnaire I provided. You mustn't confer."
Dad looked suspicious and held up a hand as though wanting permission to use a toilet.
"Why can't we confer?"
"Because each of you is here to establish a fresh start with the other, we need to understand the basis of that relationship dynamic. If you confer, we’ll unlikely get the truth from either of you."
"Okay."
"There is a specific question set for each of you based on your current status and desired outcomes. Please be honest, or you will waste your time and money.”
I sat down at a desk three rows behind my Dad. The whole experience felt naughty and somewhat adventurous - arousing me. My heart thumped loudly as the beat quickened, and I felt a familiar, tawdry warmth in my panties. Keith seemed worried when he read the questions, going to the Form Mistress's desk, where the two had a heated, whispered debate.
I tried to eavesdrop but only caught their parting shots.
“The questionnaire is confidential, Mr. Rodgers; just complete it or leave."
I was intrigued and opened the A3 folded in half question paper to see what had spooked Dad.
Date Of Birth.
Name.
Marital Status.
Are you a virgin? Y/N.
Have you ever been finger banged? Y/N.
Have you sucked a man's cock? Y/N.
Have you licked a woman's pussy? Y/N.
Have you helped anyone masturbate? Y/N.
How frequently do you masturbate? Daily/Weekly/Monthly.
What are the dates for your next period? __/__/____
What relationship would you like to build with your stepfather?
More friendly and agreeable.
A stricter father/daughter dynamic within usual constraints.
Discipline that entails regular spanking/paddling/thrashing
Romantic.
Pure Fuck Buddy.
I just want to fuck him once to get it out of my system before moving on.
12 Are your step-father and biological mother - happily married/estranged/is he widowed/is either party cheating?
13 Has your stepfather already fucked you? Y/N.
14 Would you like your stepfather to fuck you? Y/N/DK.
I stood up, panicked, and waved my paper to attract the Form Mistress's attention.
"What the fuck is all this about, Miss?”
She strode down an aisle separating columns of desks, sweeping past my dad like a lioness hunting down her prey, stopping abruptly at the end of my desk. When she leaned forward into my face to whisper, I smelled carbolic soap and saw an expression with zero tolerance for sass.
"What is your problem, Hannah?"
"Umm... this! These! And oh yeah, this too!"
I pointed to the questions about sexual activity, which shocked me. When my quivering finger hovered over question eleven, she must have recognized the terror in my eyes because hers squinted at me while both lips pursed tightly.
"These questions are only a dilemma for step-daughters who don’t know what they want, and you’ll see that is also an option. This questionnaire never elicits such a rude retort as yours. I’ll assume it is because your application was made at the last minute.”
“These are the oddest questions. I wasn’t expecting them.”
“Hannah, don’t be tedious. Just get on with answering the questions, be a good girl, and exercise some responsibility for the life you want. Select don’t know or multiple options if you wish, but don't create any more of a spectacle of yourself."
"Okay, sorry, but seeing some of those options was just a little surprising.”
“Remember that Fanbury Hall is about informed consent and fixing problems between parents and daughters. Even after completing this questionnaire, you are not committed to any recommended activities."
"I can refuse or walk away anytime I want?"
"Of course, Hannah. Your stepdad can do the same, too."
As she passed by my dad, he handed over his completed paper. I was desperate to see his answers, but I was denied when the Form Mistress checked it over and nodded approvingly before sliding his paper inside an envelope, licking and sealing its flap.
"Hannah, hurry up. Trixy will meet with the curriculum committee in an hour to study these papers and set specific lessons that will meet your criteria. I need to review your answers to allocate accommodation."
"Okay, Miss."
"I'm Annabella, by the way."
I hurriedly ticked, crossed out, and filled in the questionnaire, deciding that honesty was the best possibility while praying my answers would be compatible with my Dad’s. I felt surprised by the trembling tickle inside my pussy and by how damp my French knickers had become.
When I handed my paper to Annabella, she smiled warmly before carefully reviewing and then tucking my answers into a buff envelope like my Dad’s. She looked up and smiled confidently at us, pointing toward the door.
"You'll attend a medical examination together once Trixy has decided its format. You really should not discuss the answers you gave and trust the process to deliver both of you positive outcomes."
"Okay. Where do we go now?"
"Collect your luggage and follow the yellow wall signs. You're looking for our third-floor apartment 4a. When a decision is made, someone will fetch you to the doctor’s clinic.”
We chose to find and check out the apartment before collecting our luggage. It also gave us a chance to discuss the oddities of our questionnaires.
"That was very weird, Dad."
“I feel relieved.”
“Why relieved?”
“Because I got something off my chest.”
“Can you be more specific, Dad?”
“I think we got different questions, but some were strange. I figured different relationships and expectations are being managed here. I'm very clear about what I want for us and answered the questions honestly."
"Yeah, me too."
I felt slightly nervous, with uncomfortable knots in my stomach, because it didn't sound like my dad was entirely on the same page as me. I couldn’t believe he was asked if he wanted to fuck me and remained calm, having answered.
We arrived at our apartment, an innocuous wood door with intricate carvings. Inside was a gorgeous haven of tranquility with an enormous combined living/kitchen/dining room carpeted in deep pile lime green with matching curtains hung at five massive floor-to-ceiling windows with fantastic views over a vast estate.
Oak paneling on the walls felt reassuring and relaxing, and a highly polished alabaster dining table with carved wooden chairs and deep cushions was luxuriant.
I dove onto one of two long, dark brown leather sofas that must have been delivered straight from a Milan furniture show, flicking off my heels while scrunching myself down into the deep cushions.
"This will do nicely for a month, Dad."
"We have three bedrooms, Hannah. Two have en-suite bathrooms with rain showers; the third is locked."
"It might be a store cupboard."
"Maybe."
He strolled around our apartment, checking drawers, cupboards, and a gigantic fridge crammed with soft drinks, fruits, and other treats. I connected my phone to a Bang & Olufson Bluetooth music speaker and streamed a playlist of my favorite beats, the same as Dad's.
A knock at our door disrupted my enjoyment of the music and halted Keith's exploration. He glanced quizzically at me, but I could only shrug.
"You're the parent. I guess that makes you boss.”
"I'll answer the door then."
"Yeah, you should, Dad."
It was Trixy and what seemed to be a young female nurse, judging by her gown. They strode in confidently and for unfathomable reasons; I instantly leaped off the sofa, standing almost to attention. The headmistress smiled at us and opened a large, flat wooden box of the style where a man might store his cigars.
"It's time we fit Hannah for a ponytail and select her first paddle. Come, girl.”
"Umm... what's that now?"
"You'll need to undress for this, or at least remove your panties and lift the skirt while your step-father sizes your anal whorl for a tail."
"My fucking what, now?”
"Then we'll use the paddle immediately to correct your sustained potty mouth. I did warn you, Hannah.”
I stared at Keith in utter terror. He was as open-mouthed as I was. My heart pounded, and adrenaline surged through every fiber of my body, preparing it for flight. With the box in Trixy's hands open, I saw a row of various-sized stainless steel butt plugs with a gorgeous red horsehair plume that obviously screwed into the one that would fit inside my back passage.
“This is called pony play, my dear. I expect you and Mr. Rodgers might want to enjoy evenings together in front of the fire with this anal joy plug inserted inside you.”
She approached me, obviously concerned because I was terrified. Trixy led me away from Dad into one of the bedrooms, where we could chat quietly. She looked genuinely concerned.
"Isn't this what you want, Hannah?"
"Christ, I don't know, Trixy. Is it?"
"Were you being honest with your answers to the questionnaire?"
"Yes."
"Have you changed your mind at all?"
"No."
"Then please trust the process, and let's get you fitted with a pony plug. You'll be much happier once crawling around on the carpet on your hands and knees with your stepdad holding the reins."
“Are you saying he’s going to see me naked and play with my butthole?”
"You'll make a fine show pony, and the horsehair plume can be unscrewed most of the time, leaving you plugged beautifully to enjoy its stimulation while you and Mr. Rodgers spend quality time in the evening. It even vibrates and won't seriously affect your anal v-card, which can be taken in time.”
"Keith will know about my choices."
"You'll figure out how to ease him in, Hannah. You are a smart girl."
"Okay. If I get naked, does he have to as well?"
"Not here for this fitting, but during the medical exam; yes, he does."
"Okay. I'll take the risk."
"Get undressed now and join us in the living room. You'll need to lean over the sofa while your stepdad tests and fits your anal plug."
"Jesus, this is just so weird."
"Do you like that exciting feeling, Hannah?"
She eyeballed me as though challenging for the truth. I was getting tired and needed a drink that I knew wouldn't be offered, and, to be honest, we were beyond the point of no return.
"Yes. I kinda do. It feels exciting to have a fresh start with Keith."
"Then put your best foot forward and impress him."
Next Chapter:
KATE I lived thus chapter. I think I understand this is your re-write I read the original. It will take time but I'm pretty sure I'll love ❤️ it. What a great start 👏 👌 🙌.
Loved the first version. Can't wait to see what you do with it😁