Carolyn gasped in shock at the weights depending from Sherry's nipples. “Doesn't that hurt?"
"Of course. That's the point.” Sherry laughed, unconcerned. “'Pain and pleasure will come to you,'” she quoted. Shaking her shoulders gently to make her breasts jiggle, she continued, “I've got a full pound of weights on today, and they'll probably add another after supper. From my nipples again, or from my labia. Makes a good display, don'cha think?"
Carolyn could only gape. Display! Was that to be her future here? She couldn't imagine the pain, the torment, she would feel in Sherry's place. The humiliation was only too clear. At least the plug is inside, she thought, then castigated herself. There is nothing good about that thing. No matter what you might have felt, things are not supposed to go back there! It's unnatural. Disgusting.
It had felt kind of nice, rubbing against her vaginal wall from the other side. Intense. Remembering, she squirmed in her seat, the ache of her ass and the internal caress combining in an odd sort of pleasure-pain. She pushed down into her chair.
"I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to do that,” Sherry remarked. Carolyn looked up. “They usually tell you outright not to masturbate, but even when they don't, you're not allowed to pleasure yourself. ‘Pleasure and pain,’ remember?"
"I-I wasn't…” Carolyn couldn't continue. Wasn't what? Pleasuring herself? Of course she was. No matter what she might feel about the idea, she was enjoying the way the plug felt. But it's not right!
And the whispered thought came, Says who? Her mouth dropped open.
Sherry smiled, shook her head, and reached for a piece of fruit. The rest of the meal passed in silence. Carolyn spent the time trying to convince herself that the anal plug within her didn't exist-in which case, she wouldn't have to decide how she felt about it. As her body kept repositioning itself to accommodate the object, she didn't have much success.
* * * *
Freshman orientation was taught by a man no more than twenty-one; Carolyn had trouble thinking of him as a teacher when she saw him in the halls, but in his classroom, he was perfectly in control. She wondered about that. Was that something that could be taught? Was it taught at the Academy?
Is it something they teach in the outside world? And why didn't anyone ever teach me?
Not that it mattered anymore, but it bothered her to think of it. Would her life have been different if she'd had the right teachers? Well, I have good ones now. Even if I haven't learned how to masturbate yet. She'd sat in on an evening workshop, but been forbidden to participate.
Orientation was concerned largely with The Rules; regulations, commands, litanies. Obedience. Carolyn had no trouble memorizing the rules, but following them was another matter entirely. And drained by her experiences and the constant stimulation of the plug in her ass, she was having difficulty staying awake.
The teacher decided to make her an object lesson for the rest of the class. “Carolyn, over.” By the hand motion, that meant “bend over the table,” so she did. Her skirt raised above her ass, and gasps from behind her told her that her underwear concealed bruising as poorly as it did anything else. “Plugged, I see,” he mused. “Face the class, and describe your transgression."
Turning to obey, Carolyn wondered at the phrasing. Was plugging, then, a punishment? Was she not supposed to enjoy it? A secret thrill ran through her. “Another student used her mouth on me while I slept. My transgression was enjoying the attention; you see the attention my tutor gave me.” Too late, she worried how that might sound. “This was fifty strokes."
"Next time, perhaps you will remember the second rule. Raise your skirt, and display yourself again."
She did, blushing. The teacher began to discuss technique, using her bruises as a teaching aid. “This pattern here shows considerable skill, strike after strike falling in the same location. It provides a longer-lasting pain, sometimes in excess of one week, while causing no scarring, skin-splits, or other permanent damage. Call it a very palpable reminder not to disobey. This single strike here…” Impossible as it seemed, Carolyn fell asleep. The teacher woke her at the end of class with a pinch to the worst-bruised area.
Somehow, she made it through the rest of her schedule without mishap. Sherry sat with her again at dinner, and told jokes and stories to keep her awake until dismissal. She had nowhere to report that evening, and gratefully took to her bed, asleep before her head hit the pillow. She spared no thought for the anal plug still lodged within her; it felt completely natural.
She woke with the bell. Moving to sit up, she froze and gasped. Pain-there was something inside her! A moment later, she remembered the anal plug. Moving gingerly, she gathered her things together to head for the bathroom. She felt swollen around the plug, distended. Had it gotten larger? Waddling, stepping carefully, she entered the shower. As other students jostled for hot water, for soap, she crept along a wall, praying no one would bump into her.
"Ah!” She gasped as someone's elbow brushed her hip.
The woman turned, puzzled, then, seeing her stance, smiled gently. “First time with an overnight, eh? No worries.” She moved off, leaving Carolyn to ponder her remark. Overnights were uncomfortable for everyone, it seemed. And common, to be so soon recognized. Her heart sank.
Dressing was an ordeal; she felt impaled. Natural movement was not possible; her center of gravity seemed to have shifted back a few inches. She was graceless, and knew it, and hated it. Not secret at all, this horrid plug, some part of her sourly observed. She wanted it out, wanted it gone, wanted to feel her sphincter closed, not stretched around a foreign invader. She wanted to be able to slouch, to twist, to bend. And she could not.
Part of her wondered at the shift. It had not seemed so bad the night before. Why had her body not adapted? Not that she wanted to adapt to such an unnatural internal companion, but it seemed strange that it was worse in the morning. With no appetite for breakfast, and neither Sherry nor Jack to be found, she toyed with her meal, exiting the dining hall as soon as possible.
Class served to distract her a bit; they were studying the structure of the male organ in Intro to the Body. While not a virgin, Carolyn had never truly examined a cock before, having been of the lights-out, missionary-only contingent. Or at least, married to a man who was. God, did I ever think about it at all?
Students at the Academy were expected to do more than just think about sex; she was beginning to realize she was expected to do anything and everything. "Sensations beyond belief.” And experiences I'd never have dreamed.
Look at it! It jumped. She nearly managed to forget about her unwanted internal guest until the discussion moved to things anal.
"The prostate,” Grace said, “can trigger orgasm despite the unwillingness of the subject male. Observe.” The subject, spread-eagle on a display frame, bit his lip as the instructor inserted a lubricated finger. His half-erect cock sprung up as the internal massage progressed, orgasm following perhaps a minute later. Spent, he hung from his bonds, panting. His sperm had reached even the back rows. He sobbed.
Grace wiped her finger clean, and continued. “This subject's display results in a punishment he knows well, and despises. Despite this, and despite the fact that he has a personal animus towards me, he was unable to prevent orgasm. You will all learn this technique. In passing, it should be mentioned that while women do not possess the identical anatomy, many women can also be sparked to orgasm by anal stimulation, despite-or, often, because of-distaste for any such action.” The instructor smiled in Carolyn's direction, and she flushed, squirming. The pain of her ass, today several shades of blue and red, served only to inflame her desire. The more she moved, the more welcome the plug became to her, the rubbing within her almost like intercourse. Her juices flowed, soaking her underwear. Her nipples tightened, her breathing quickened. Panting, she forced herself to stillness. Grace paused beside her chair, raised a brow. Leaning close, he whispered, “Because of, in your case."