Belle Unbound Pt. 08

The lodge is more than a retreat--it's a playground of desire, where girls like Belle are shaped into irresistible fantasies, tools of seduction for the Circle's hidden games. But amid the lessons in pleasure and power, one thing is real--Red. Seeing her again is electric, their connection undeniable. As Belle falls deeper into this world, she must decide: is she playing the game, or is it playing her?

If you're just joining Belle's story, here's what you need to know:

Somewhere out past the dusty roads of 1990s Mississippi, far from curious neighbors or the safety of town, Billy's life was quietly stolen and replaced with someone new--Belle. The change wasn't his choice, but over time, resistance gave way to survival, and survival began to feel a lot like desire. Now, Belle isn't just a pawn in her twisted neighbor Mr. Carver's game. She's learning to play along, using his obsession to carve out small freedoms wherever she can.

Through Carver, she was drawn into the Circle--a secretive criminal network of powerful men who collect and control girls like her. That's where she met Red: bold, sharp-tongued, and owned by the local police chief.

Red is more than just another trapped girl. She's vibrant, rebellious--someone who makes Belle feel seen. In just one day together, they found something Belle thought she'd lost: friendship, understanding, and maybe even something more. The deeper she sinks into this world, the blurrier the line becomes between pretending and becoming. But if there's any way out, Belle knows one thing for sure--she won't take it alone.

But escape won't be easy. Carver still holds the reins, and if Belle wants to survive, she'll have to keep playing his game. The difference now? She's done being his helpless doll. She's learning how to win.

And maybe her old friend from school Tyler can help her? But how will he feel about her transformation?

In the last episode, Belle arrived at the Lodge, where she was subjected to a rough inspection by the fearsome Matron--a woman who rules over the girls with an iron fist. But it wasn't all bad: she was reunited with Red, the lively and beautiful t-girl she's been longing to see. Belle was also introduced to Red's three close friends--Tia, Vanessa, and Maya.

However, not all the attention Belle received was welcome. The stunning yet cold Natalie, known as the "ice queen," has taken an interest in her. Red, ever protective, has already warned Belle to be cautious of Natalie's intentions.

This is an ongoing thriller, so it will have dark twists and turns. But Belle is our heroine, and is determined she wont be a victim of the circle for ever.

All characters are over 18 and this is a complete work of fantasy and nothing more.

------------------------------------------

The Training

------------------------------------------

The next morning, the lodge's sunlight filtered through gauzy white curtains as I stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the uniform Red and I had been given.

It was simple but undeniably girly: a fitted white blouse with short, puffed sleeves and a rounded collar, paired with a pleated pink skirt that barely reached mid-thigh.

White socks stretched just above my ankles, and on my feet were glossy black patent heels that clicked when I moved. Even the underwear we wore was regulated. Simple pink cotton panties with a matching bra. I hadn't worn a bra much, but the one they had given me fitted like a glove and gave me some shape..

I shifted uncomfortably, tugging the hem a bit lower, feeling both exposed and absurdly prim. Red watched me with a smirk as she adjusted her own blouse.

"You'll get used to it," she teased, stepping up behind me and planting a quick kiss on my cheek. "Besides Belle, why would you want to hide that cute lil' tushy."

I couldnt help but giggle.

Red's uniform hung on her in just the right way--effortlessly sexy, with her blouse hugging her figure like it was made for her. Tight on those perfect pert breasts. She winked at me. "We're supposed to look irresistible. Like dolls you can't put down."

I swallowed hard, heart racing as I tried to still my nerves. The day ahead felt like a door into the unknown.

Matron was waiting for us when we arrived at the training hall. The room was vast, with glossy hardwood floors, tall windows that let in shafts of golden light, and heavy drapes tied back with tassels. A long mirror-lined wall reflected our group as we filed in, our heels clacking against the floor in unison.

She stood at the front like a sentinel, wearing a sharply tailored black suit with a crisp white blouse buttoned all the way up to her throat. Her skirt, straight and narrow, reached mid-calf, and her black heels were polished to a mirror shine. Her graying hair was pulled into a severe bun, and thin spectacles perched on her nose. The air around her felt tight, as though her very presence wound the space like a coiled spring.

"Ladies," she greeted us, her voice sharp as the crack of a whip, "you are here to be transformed.

When you leave, you will embody poise, allure, and sophistication. There will be no room for sloppiness or laziness. We expect perfection."

My stomach twisted as she stalked the rows of girls, her eyes keen and predatory.

"Miss Vanessa." She stopped suddenly, eyes narrowing at one of Red's friends. Vanessa stiffened.

"Your skirt," Matron said coldly, "is wrinkled. Did you roll out of bed and forget how to iron?"

Vanessa flushed, her usual calm confidence shaken. "No, ma'am. I--"

"Enough," Matron snapped. "We do not tolerate carelessness here. Return to your room, fix yourself, and when you are flawless, you may rejoin us. There will be consequences later."

Vanessa lowered her head and hurried out. My heart thudded, and a hush fell over the room as Matron's gaze swept the rest of us.

"Immaculate. That is the standard." She adjusted her spectacles, her lips a thin, disapproving line.

"Today, you will be taught how to present yourselves as visions of beauty. You will learn advanced grooming techniques, makeup artistry, and how to highlight your best features."

Her eyes glinted with something cold. "Later this week, you will study the art of conversation, social etiquette, and the subtlety of seduction. Everything you need to know to become a perfect hostess. On the final night, you will host a party for a special guest. It will be your moment to showcase everything you have learned. Failure is not an option."

A shiver ran down my spine.

Matron's voice lowered, each word deliberate. "You are forbidden from fraternizing with the guards. They are here for your protection, not your amusement. Anyone caught stepping out of line will be dealt with harshly. Am I understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," we all murmured.

I felt a hand slide over mine and glanced sideways to see Natalie Carmichael leaning closer, her smile sweet as honey.

"Isn't this all just so exciting?" she whispered.

I forced a polite smile. "Something like that."

Red shifted beside me, her posture stiffening. I could feel her irritation without even looking. Natalie's smile widened.

"Stick with me, Belle," she purred. "I know all the tricks to impress Matron."

"Thanks," I said, keeping my tone even. "But I think I'm in good hands."

Her eyes flicked to Red before she pulled away, her laughter soft and knowing.

When Matron turned her back, Red's hand found mine, squeezing gently. Her touch was my anchor. This place, this training--it was all a game of control and appearances.

Our first appointment was a beauty lesson, something I felt I had a lot to learn about, compared the polish the other girls had. I could do a fair job, but nothing as convincing as they could. We were told to head to the salon.

The salon felt like a place where dreams were reshaped into something artificial and exacting. The marble floors glowed under fluorescent lights, the polished mirrors reflecting every insecurity and shadow of doubt. Rows of gleaming tools sat like surgical instruments, cold and sharp.

The man in charge--tall, angular, his expression as impassive as stone--stood with his arms behind his back. He looked at us like an artist surveying blocks of marble, already calculating where to carve. His voice was low and clinical.

"You are not here to be yourselves," he said flatly. "You are here to become what you must be. Perfection is not a gift. It is a choice. My choice."

His gaze landed on me, sharp as a blade. He approached, lifting a strand of my sandy hair between his fingers as though it were something unsightly. "This is..." He paused, a faint sneer curving his lips. "Unmanaged. Sentimental. Untamed hair is a sign of an undisciplined mind."

I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening as he motioned me into the chair.

I could feel Red's eyes on me, a silent presence of comfort and worry.

He began cutting without ceremony, shearing away pieces of my old self. "You've been left wild far too long," he muttered as sandy-blonde strands pooled around my feet. His scissors moved with cold precision, each snip a small surrender.

As he cut away and styled my locks, Vanessa re-appeared. I could tell she had been crying, she was walking stiffly as well. I felt like reaching out to her, but I was trapped in the chair for now.

The sharp bob took shape quickly--short and razor-edged. Then came the bleach. The acrid smell filled the air, stinging my eyes. He painted away the last of my natural color, stripping me bare before crafting a gleaming, silvery blonde that looked like a crown of sunlight.

When he finally spun me toward the mirror, my breath caught.

I looked... stunning. The bob framed my face with perfect symmetry, and the brightness of my hair made my eyes glow like stars. My cheeks, flushed from the tension, were sharp and striking.

But something in me twisted. The reflection didn't feel like mine. It was beautiful, but it belonged to someone else.

"You see?" His voice was devoid of warmth. "Perfection is not natural. It is made."

I turned to Red. She smiled, her eyes softening with approval, but I could feel the weight behind it.

She had been changed, too. Her beauty had been sculpted into something polished, every rough edge removed.

"Beautiful, darlin'," she whispered.

Natalie appeared at my side, a cool hand brushing against my arm. "They've made you even prettier," she murmured, her smile sincere, almost gentle. Her voice held no malice, no barbs. "You should feel lucky."

I flinched at her kindness.

"I remember my first time," she continued. "It's strange, isn't it? Seeing a stranger in the mirror and knowing she'll become the only version of you that matters." Her smile softened, her eyes scanning mine as though sharing a secret.

I wanted to pull away, but I didn't. For a moment, I felt myself leaning into her warmth, a fleeting sense that maybe--just maybe--there was a kindred spirit hidden beneath her perfect, polished mask.

When she left, Red stood quietly by my side, her hand brushing mine.

"How does it feel?" she asked softly.

"Beautiful," I whispered. "But not really mine."

Her expression darkened just a little. She squeezed my hand, but neither of us spoke the fear aloud--the Circle's grip was tightening, and soon, there might be no pieces of ourselves left to claim.

------------------------------------------

The practice machine

------------------------------------------

Red looked at her watch "Oh shit, c'mon Belle. We need to get moving for the next test."

Before I could ask Red grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me down the corridor, our heels clicking loudly on the concrete floor of the hallway, finally back to our dorm. We hurried me back to our room. I was slightly confused as to what the rush was about.

She pointed over to the mirror on the wall. There was a small desk in front of it, and two chairs. It was where we made ourselves up of a morning. I couldn't see what she was fretting over?

And then I noticed two circular holes on the mirror. I'd not really noticed them, thinking they were a power outlet or something.

Red took a swig of water, handing it to me to do the same. "You're gonna need this."

I took a swig, still wondering and worrying what she meant. Then I heard a long loud beep. It seemed to echo down the hall. Red hurried to the chair in front of the mirror, I followed.

"Belle, in a minute a cock is going to appear out of this hole. It's a machine designed to test our sucking skills. We need to suck on it for a good five minutes. If we are successful it cums. If not we get a demerit. Once you start you can't stop."

For a moment I thought she was joking, one of her gags, but she was deadly serious.

"Go as deep as you can with it. It's there to train you to deep throat and it's the only way you'll be successful."

I looked at the hole in the mirror with trepidation. Today had been quite a pleasant introduction to life at the lodge, but of course the Circle had to end the day degrading the girls. Making them feel pathetic sex objects. To know our places.

A second beep sounded. I could see Red lean forward, so I did the same. I heard a whirring noise and sure enough a pink dildo, lifelike in its appearance popped out.

It was about the same length as Carver's, which I was thankful for, but slightly thicker. There were molded veins down the shaft and the end was sculpted into a realistic head.

Red spat a large amount of saliva on her hand and rubbed it around the cock. She then slid her mouth over it. I followed her lead, doing the same.

As our heads were bobbing up and down on the cock I couldn't resist a glance to my left to watch red. Her luscious lips plump as they pulled back on the cock, her cheeks sucked in. She looked so sexy in her tight uniform, her short pink skirt riding high up her long lovely legs.

She saw me looking, seemed to try and smile, best she could, and pulled up her skirt even higher so I could see her pink panties. Having a luscious sight like that helped my sucking skills no end. I pushed deeper than I'd ever gone with Carver. The regular practice he'd been making me have helped no end.

The room was filled with the gagging noises we made. Drool was dripping down both of our mouths, our mascara running from tears from the choking.

'Gluk, gluk, gluk' we both went as we sucked as good as we could do.

I turned my attention to the mirror. My visage changed today, my make up perfect, hair fresh and sharp and newly blonder than ever. I looked so damn sexy, a hot young bimbo, as I sucked on the fake cock. I wanted to be two people at once, the girl in the mirror and the owner of the cock getting sucked.

I don't know how long I'd been sucking at this fake penis, but I started to fantasise about Tyler again.

He'd been in my dreams more and more. I imagined he was standing in front of me, demanding I pleasure him. I was only too glad to do so. To submit willingly to such a wonderful man. The only person who'd ever really cared for me until Red.

I was now filthy horny. Seeing Red sucking in her skimpy uniform, seeing myself looking like the perfect cum slut, imagining Tyler's cock was there. I could feel cum seeping out of my small cocklet, sill trapped in its steel cage.

I was now almost choking, my throat taking more than ever. It was painful, but somehow the pain was sexy, if I imagined it was the right person I was suffering for. My eyes were bulging, tears running down my face, my throat almost dry, having coughed up so much drool. My blouse was soaking wet and see-through.

Suddenly I felt the cock move in my mouth, up and down slightly, then suddenly without warning it burst cum into my mouth. It wasn't the real thing, but it was close. It pumped the cum continuously, as I struggled to swallow it all, most of it dribbling down my chin, making a mess of the once pristine uniform.

The cock suddenly retracted, I gasped free air once it was gone. It disappeared behind its hole, done with me.

But Red was still going.

I crawled on the floor below her, my tongue licking what free flesh the infernal cock cage allowed me too access, my finger's rubbing her thighs. She lifted her butt off the seat, I took that as in invitation slide my hand under, pushing a wet finger into her hole.

I heard her moan, then gag as she choked down on her practice cock. Finally I felt the cum dribbling down her chin onto the table top. Once she was done, I pulled myself up, straddling her on the chair to kiss, our faces covered in the fake cum.

Once we had stopped Red looked at me. "God damn Belle, I think you were done in under three minutes. I've never succeeded that fast. I should have known you were a good good lil' cock-sucker."

We both giggled. "Oh I don't know, I experienced one girl who was better."

I leaned in, kissing her passionately.

We stripped off our clothes, cleaned up our faces then showered each other.

I was beginning to delight in showering with Red. We played around with each other, but nothing like the day before.

Once dry we slipped into our bed clothes. These were as strict as the uniforms. We bikini style satin tie-side panties with glass-silk ruffles on the rear. Over the top (which was the right word for this outfit) we wore a pink see-through babydoll nightie. The babydoll had pink ruffled wide straps, and the hem, which ended just above our panties, ended with a ruffled frill.

It looked super cute on Red, I could see her nipples through the thin transparent material, but it was also probably the silliest outfit I'd ever worn.

We both laughed at each other. "Whose idea were these?"

"Oh one of the Daddies with a big sissy fetish requested it."

Red jumped into bed, she pulled the cover to one side, rubbing the empty space next to her. The beds were singles, but I didn't mind a bit of discomfort if I was going to spend the night holding on to Red. I snuggled in beside her.

We spent some time kissing and feeling each other, and whispering sweet nothings to each other, before drifting off to sleep in each others' arms.

------------------------------------------

The art of seduction

------------------------------------------

The week had passed like a dream, each night spent in Red's arms. We lay tangled together, whispering secrets in the dark and stealing kisses that turned into long, languid embraces. The stolen hours were the sweetest I'd ever known, and with the end of training near, a creeping dread settled in my chest. Soon, we would no longer share a bed, and the thought hollowed me out.

Red, with her laughter like a summer breeze, had become my sanctuary in a world of predators.

The week had been a whirlwind. Every moment had been filled with lessons and practice, refining everything about me--how I walked, talked, and even how I held a glass. It wasn't that I didn't know some of these things already, but the training took it to another level. Every movement was deliberate, a weapon sharpened.

But as the week drew to a close it was one of the final lessons. The art of seduction.

We were to work in pairs for the evening. To my slight shock, I had been paired with the dangerous Natalie. To be fair to her, she had been nothing but pleasant to me all week, flirty at times. I was wondering if I had her all wrong. We would be paired with a target to impress, all our moves watched.

I had dressed to kill, with help from Red. The dress was black, cut daringly short with a plunging neckline. The fabric hugged my body like a second skin, silky and luxurious, making me feel both exposed and empowered. Thin straps crossed at the back, leaving my shoulders bare.

My heels--black patent stilettos--added inches to my height, my legs clad in sheer black stockings with a seam flowing up my leg, teasing more under my skirt. My freshly polished nails, a shade of crimson, glinted like tiny daggers. Every part of me had been curated for maximum impact.

As I examined myself in the mirror, I felt a thrill. I had been dressed by others all week, styled to suit the tastes of powerful men, but tonight was different. This was my choice. I was stepping into my power--or so I wanted to believe. I could feel that switch go in my head, the one that let me do outrageous things. The switch that let me act like a slut.

Red's low whistle from the doorway made me smile.

"Damn, Belle. You'll stop hearts tonight." She slid her arm around my waist, her lips brushing the back of my neck, sending shivers racing down my spine. "You're trouble."

But Natalie's arrival snapped the spell. She wore a slinky silver dress, shimmering like moonlight. It fit her body like it had been poured on, her slender figure radiating grace and cool arrogance. Her blonde waves were perfectly coiffed, her eyes lined with enough kohl to cut glass.

Red shrank away behind me. I felt slightly defensive towards her, but Natalie was nothing but grace.

"It's not going to be too hard paired with such a beauty. Red, I hope you don't mind me borrowing her, just for the evening of course?"

We walked away, leaving Red to get dressed herself.

The bar pulsed with a smoky, languid energy. Junior members of the Circle lounged in plush booths, draped in tailored power suits, their eyes sharp with hunger. They watched us with slow, predatory gazes--wolves basking in luxury as we, the lambs, paraded past in silken temptation.

My assignment was a young man with slicked-back hair and the look of someone not quite comfortable in the club's darkness. He glanced up as Natalie and I approached.

I could feel Natalie's warmth beside me, her hand brushing my back as she whispered, "Let's give him a show, shall we?"

We sank into his booth, a perfect pair of polished temptresses. I ran a hand through my hair and offered a smile that bordered on a dare.

"You look far too serious for a night like this," I teased. "We can help with that." I had switched straight into full slut mode already. I flashed my legs as we sat down.

Natalie leaned forward, her fingers trailing lightly over my wrist as she added, "Belle's right. You work too hard." She laughed, her voice low and sultry.

The man flushed, torn between coy responses and glancing nervously at us both. I played my part well, leaning in just enough to let my perfume surround him, my laughter warm, my eyes never leaving his.

We traded conversation, flirty comments here and there. The young businessman didn't know what to say most of the time, so Natalie and I would take those moments to tease him, looking at each other, almost kissing, our mouths inches away from each other. I could see he was having trouble sitting.

I moved my leg closer to him, touching his thigh. Natalie moved her hand down and stroked my leg, her hand moving the hem of my short skirt to reveal the tops of my stockings.

We carried on like that, getting closer to him and each other. Natalie practically hanging off of my shoulder, her arm draped around me, while her other hand teased my legs, stroking my thighs.

The poor man was putty in our hands. It was almost time to go in for the kill. We'd been instructed to push until they ask to take us to bed with them. Then we'd succeeded. A few times the man came close, before backing away from asking.

Just as he seemed completely under my spell, Natalie's hand slid under the table, her nails tracing an invisible path up my thigh. I stiffened, nearly gasping aloud. She pressed her cheek to mine, her lips just shy of my ear as she whispered, "Don't forget, Belle. Even queens fall."

Her hand followed up to the top of my thigh, reaching far under my skirt.

While I had done a lot of things, I didn't think that tonight the object was to give a sex show. This was supposed to be about seduction. Her hand rested on my cock cage, her fingers slowly making circles around my balls.

My nerves were racing. I had to stay calm, keep control of the situation and not let her put me off.

I picked up my champagne glass to take a sip.

As I brought it to my mouth I could see the sweat on the young man. He was stammering to say something, his eyes on my legs below and Natalie's hand up my skirt. We had him.

And then she did it. Her nails dug hard into my balls. The pain was excruciating. I screamed and dropped the drink all over the man. He angrily dabbed the mess on his trousers and stormed off.

Natalie was up and with him in a flash, her arm around him, consoling him and trying to dry him. She looked over at Matron, shaking her head.

Matron's sharp voice sliced through the smoky air. "Miss Belle."

The room fell silent.

I turned slowly, my pulse hammering in my chest.

"You are here to practice artful seduction, not to make a spectacle of yourself." Her eyes raked over me like a blade. "A lady controls her reactions."

Humiliation burned my cheeks as she gestured toward the door. "Out. Now."

Natalie's smirk was a dagger twisting in my side.

The Matron pushed me down the corridor. I tried to explain what had happened, but she wasn't interested. Finally she brought me to a room with a plain door. One I had not seen inside all week.

------------------------------------------

Matron's punishment room

------------------------------------------

She pushed me in. The room inside was nothing like the rest of the compound. It was plain and dull. There was only one piece of furniture, a plain iron bed. It didn't look clean either, the bed clothes were a mess, with stains on them. But the one thing that filled me dread, the ropes on the bed posts.

She unhooked a crop from the wall, there were various other instruments I recognised from when Carver had me in that cellar. Whips, tawses and paddles.

I reminded me of the first time I'd been fucked. How Carver had tortured me with the rope, then let the Chief fuck me on the bed. How he had degraded me, trying to break me.

Matron started to lift off my dress. I was starting to cry, the memory of that basement now strong.

She ripped off my panties, just leaving my in my hold up stockings. Grabbing my by the hair she pushed me to the ground. She was strong and I was too afraid to resist.

Out of a box hidden to one side she pulled out a long metal contraption. It had three holes, one for my neck, and two for each wrist. My arms were now trapped at neck level, to the side. I was unable to defend myself.

I was perpendicular to the bed, my back laying across it's width. She used the ropes to tie my legs. My ankles were tied tight to the bed posts at either end. pulling them up high, causing me to bend my legs. My ass and balls on display and vulnerable. Another set of ropes were tied around my thighs, holding me in place.

I was fully on display. My back flat on the bed, my legs bent and wide. I wondered if what happened next would be a whipping or a fucking. It turned out it was both.

Matron cracked me across the ass with the crop. I screamed in pain as the hit sent sharp pain across the softest part of my body. It was just the beginning as crack after crack hit me. One struck me on the scrotum, sending excruciating pain through me.

After ten strokes I was whimpering, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Matron hung up the crop. For a moment I feared she would reach for another torture implement. Instead she started to undo her skirt. Reaching behind her she unhooked the skirt, then pulling the zip down. It fell to the floor. She was wearing black stockings and an old fashioned wide garter belt. For panties she had a large pair of black satin French knickers. But I could just about see something else. A bulge. Matron was like us!

She pulled down her knickers to reveal her cock. It was huge. Bigger than Carver's or the Chiefs. I could see a look of relish on her face as she stroked it, she licked her thin lips and walked towards me.

I was slightly relieved to see her apply some lube to her cock and then to my ass hole. But I still waited for the cock with fear in my stomach. I felt the tip push against my thighs, then she pushed in harder.

I groaned, my breath faster. She carried on pushing, not stopping. The groan turned into a scream, I felt like she was ripping me apart. I couldn't take this, but I was trapped with no way to defend myself or get away.

"Please Matron, no. You are just too big for me!"

She said nothing, slapping me on the thigh to keep quiet, while she pushed deeper.

"Ow, ow, ow, owwww!" My voice turned into a scream again. Suddenly when the pain seemed unbearable, she was inside. She was soon filling me up. Her cock felt hot inside, hotter than Carver's cold dick ever did. She pushed until I could feel her nylons rub against mine.

The switch flicked inside my head. My defence mechanism turned the fear and humiliation into something erotic. My slut mode was back in charge, helping me put aside those thoughts and enjoy it.

Her cock was soon probing against my prostate, I could feel the orgasm building. I started to turn the tables on her.

"Oh god, fuck me you old slut. Give that cock to me. Slap me and fuck me like the whore I am!" I shouted back at her, defying her to do her worst.

There was an odd look on her face, surprise perhaps. Then it turned to lust as she fucked faster and harder than ever before. I started to feel I couldn't take it again, but I didn't care.

"That's it! Fuck my boi pussy. Give me all your cum. Fill me up, make me your cum whore. I want it now miss. Give it to me!"

It was working. I could feel her cock twitch, building up to an orgasm. I was sure she wanted the fucking to last longer, but my words were working on her.

I could feel my own orgasm on edge. I was nearly there.

"Oh god, is that the best you can do? I'm fuck meat, show me how a slut should be treated!"

I was saying things I'd never said before. Daring her further than I could probably take, but now I needed that orgasm. And I was angry. An anger that was making me say things I'd never said before.

Suddenly I came. My caged cock spurting out cum. In seconds the Matron came inside of me. It was bigger and larger dump of cum than I'd ever had. She stayed in me for a second, her eyes looking at me with surprise and a slight smile.

As she slide out of my ass, I felt the cum ooze out, dripping down the edge of the bed onto the floor.

Matron was breathless. I was exhausted, in pain and still tied up. My ass exposed, dipping with cum. But I had won.

"Well, Miss Belle. I had wanted to fuck you all week. I'd heard great things, and I have to say I'm very pleased. No one has made me cum like that in ages. What a little slut we have on our hands. The masters will be pleased."

She un-cuffed me and undid the ropes around my ankles and thighs. Once I was free a wicked thought crossed my mind.

"Ma'am, would you like me to clean your penis for you?"

The Matron nodded, I knelt on the floor and slowly licked her cock clean. Taking it in my mouth for soothing sucks here and there. I was learning how to play this game.

I looked up at her, eyes wide and innocent as I could make them.

"Ma'am, it really wasn't my fault. Natalie put her nails into me, in my private area. I laid back on the floor, spreading my stocking clad legs, showing her the nail marks where Natalie had drawn blood.

I could see she was getting turned on again. The horny old cow. I leaned back in, sucking her cock more, teasing it with my tongue. She leaned back against the wall, her eyes closed as she enjoyed my teasing. Her cock getting stiffer and stiffer inside my mouth.

"Perhaps I could have a word with young Miss Natalie tomorrow.

I smiled. I'd beaten the cock sucking machine time almost every night this week. If she thought fucking me was good, wait till she felt my blowjob skills.

I looked up one more time. The Matron stroked my hair. I winked at her, before bobbing my head faster and faster, gagging almost straight away as I pushed her into my throat.

I was going to give her the best blowjob of her life.