Miss Hannah's Girls

Chapter Three-1

Chapter Three

Hannah was sitting on the sofa reading a book. Rachel came in, bearing an enormous bouquet of flowers. “Goodness,” Hannah said. “Who are those from?”

“It’s the Abused Women’s Refuge,” Rachel said. “Thanking us for our generous donation this month.”

“That’s nice,” said Hannah. “I guess we gave them a lot this time. The girls have been working hard.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Enter,” she said.

The door opened and two girls came in. They closed the door behind them.

“Come here,” said Hannah, pointing to a spot just in front of her. The girls shuffled forwards and stood, waiting awkwardly.

“Names?” asked Hannah.

“I’m Penelope,” said one.

“I’m Phoebe,” said the other.

“Two peas in a pod,” said Hannah. In fact the girls weren’t much alike. Penelope was slim, leggy, with long blonde hair. She was a beauty, no question: blue eyes, a wide mouth, small breasts high and pointed. Phoebe’s body was compact, her breasts pushing against her tight sweater; she had short, dark hair and a turned-up nose. Not a classical beauty, thought Hannah, but cute.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Hannah said.

“Yes,” said Penelope. “We’re here to start our training.”

“Quite right,” said Hannah. “My assistant, Miss Rachel, has judged that you are suitable for membership of our little group, or the Circle, as we call it. Are you both lesbians?”

“I am,” said Penelope.

“I guess I’m more bi,” said Phoebe.

“Boys have f****d you?’

“Some, yes.”

“Well, not any more. Our training is thorough and rigorous. Occasionally girls drop out. But if you get through, you will become a professional lesbian w***e. You understand that?”

“Yes, Miss Hannah,” they said in unison.

“Please, Miss Hannah,” said Phoebe, “does that mean we get paid for our services?”

“Yes,” said Hannah. “But you don’t keep the money. It is all donated to good causes. Except you may get a little pocket money if you are good girls.”

Phoebe looked a little disappointed.

“Let me see your cunts,” Hannah said. Penelope was wearing jeans. She undid them and pulled them down to her knees, then pulled her knickers down too. Phoebe was wearing a skirt, which she pulled up, then eased her knickers down.

“Penelope, come closer,” Hannah said. She put her hand between the girl’s legs, prodding and probing. “Have you never had a man in there?”

“No, Miss Hannah,” Penelope said.

“But you’ve had dildos and things. Strap-ons, for example?”

Penelope was a little embarrassed by the line of questioning. “Yes, Miss Hannah,” she said shyly.

“Come forward, Phoebe,” Hannah said. She thrust her hand between Phoebe’s legs and pushed a finger up inside her. “How many boys?” she demanded.

“Only two or three, Miss Hannah.”

“But lots of girls?”

“I don’t know about lots,” said Phoebe. “Some, anyway.”

“In future these cunts will be exclusively at the service of our clients,” said Hannah. “Though undoubtedly some of what you will do will be enjoyable, your main purpose henceforth will be to service the p*****s of those ladies who are prepared to pay for it, and pay well. You will be trained how to give pleasure, and how to take pain if you are sent to a client who enjoys that sort of thing.”

Both girls looked a little worried at that.

“There are a few rules you need to absorb right from the beginning. Firstly, as to your attire. We have a standard uniform: white blouse, short navy-blue pleated skirt. White cotton socks, thigh-high. White cotton underwear. And on your feet Mary-Janes. The styling of your hair will be closely supervised. We like it long, either in a pony-tail or in a single braid or in pigtails. Of course when you go out on an appointment you will be dressed as the client wishes. In general, not too much make-up. You may be trained as whores, but in public you will be demure. Next, your demeanour. You are to be respectful to myself and to Miss Rachel. And you are to be compliant and submissive with clients. You will never answer back, nor hesitate to perform any service they request. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss Hannah,” they said.

“Lastly, for the moment, though there will be other instructions from time to time, you will speak of this to no one outside our Circle, on pain of instant dismissal. Now take off all your clothes.”

When the girls were naked, Hannah ordered them to turn around so that she could assess their bottoms. Then they turned back.

“The next thing is some protocol. Kneel down on the floor.”

Both girls got down.

“Now press your face to the floor. Put your arms straight out in front, palms to the floor. Open your legs till there is approximately a foot between your knees. Arch your back and push up your bottom.”

The girls did as she said. “This is the ‘position’,” said Hannah. “This is what you assume the instant it is commanded. And you stay there until you are told to move.”

Hannah walked around the room as the girls knelt, presenting their bottoms. They both felt very shy, knowing that Hannah must have a good view of what was between their legs.

“All the girls in our Circle are referred to as cunts,” Hannah said. “Because that is what you are now, a cunt, no more, no less. It is the duty of cunts like you to serve p***y, which is what we call women whose status is above yours. p***y has power, it has privileges, it has pleasures. Cunts have none of these things. They are common, they are coarse, they are crude. They need control and correction. That is why, incidentally, m**********n is regulated, not freely permitted. Do you masturbate, Penelope? You must answer truthfully.”

“Yes, I do,” Miss Hannah,” Penelope said.

“How often?”

“Most days, I guess.”

“Too much,” said Hannah. “You need to be in a state of constant arousal if you are to discharge your duties successfully. I make it a rule that girls in training must report their m**********n activity to me once a week. And don’t think you can do it in secret. I can always tell when a girl has been touching herself. How often do you masturbate, Phoebe?”

“Every night, to help me sleep,” Phoebe said.

“Much too much. Find some other way,” said Hannah. “Right, there are two further things to be attended to this afternoon. Firstly, in our Circle all the girls are clean shaven. Only p***y can choose for itself whether to shave or not.”

Penelope’s pubis was trimmed, mostly clean-shaven but with a line of golden hair down the centre. Phoebe had a full bush, dark and curly.

“The other thing is to establish in your mind what discipline is. But first, to the shaving. Come into the bathroom.”

Phoebe made to stand up. “Did I tell you to stand?” Hannah demanded in a withering voice.

“No, Miss Hannah,” said Phoebe, her face going red.

“You do what you are told. But only what you are told. Now, both of you crawl into the bathroom.”

Hannah took shaving cream and a safety razor from a cupboard. “You will each shave the other,” she said. She handed the cream to Phoebe and told Penelope to lie on the massage table in the corner with her legs spread. Phoebe squirted a good dollop of cream onto Penelope’s mons veneris, then bent over and very carefully began to shave her. She was clearly nervous, afraid she might cut the other girl, and so she worked slowly, using one hand to hold the lips of Penelope’s cunt, shaving every nook and cranny. When it was done she turned to Hannah.

“Should you like to inspect, Miss Hannah?” she said.

Hannah wiped the remaining cream off Penelope, then put her hand between her legs, feeling carefully. There was one little patch that was not quite smooth.

“Hand me the razor, Phoebe,” she said. She slid it over the patch, making it as smooth as the rest. “You did a good job,” she said. “Now your turn.”

Phoebe got up on the table. Penelope had more work to do, given the luxuriant growth of Phoebe’s pubic hair. But gradually she worked away at it, until Phoebe too was smooth. Both girls stood in front of the mirror, staring at themselves. What Penelope saw was not much different from what she was used to. But Phoebe thought her appearance greatly changed. She had never felt so naked, so exposed as she now was. She put her hand there to feel the smoothness, and the bareness, then turned to Hannah. “Do you think other girls will like it, Miss Hannah?” she said.

“Do you like it?” Hannah asked.

“I can’t quite decide. I’m not sure if my cunt is really pretty.” She blushed at using the word.

“You will get used to it. And other girls will love to see your beauty fully revealed.”

Hannah took the girls back into the sitting room. “I expect unquestioning and instant obedience at all times. If you commit to that, your time in training will go well. Over the mantelpiece, as you may have seen, is my cane” she said. “It’s what I use when I wish to discipline girls, although sometimes I will content myself with a flogger or a paddle. The cane is the worst, I think you’ll find. At the beginning I like to give new girls a taste of it so they know what to expect if they go wrong. Later, a chosen few will receive special training as pain-sluts. These are much in demand. But that’s for the future. Phoebe, bend over the table. Grip the sides tightly, breathe deeply. Do not make a sound. Any noise will incur a one-stroke penalty. And do not move, whatever you do. You need to learn how to deal with such things without making a fuss. Each of you will get six.”

Hannah took up the cane and swished it a few times. The sound made Phoebe tremble. She gripped the table edge very tightly. Hannah tapped the cane against her bare bottom, then she raised her arm and brought it down firmly across the centre. Phoebe could not quite suppress a squeal.

“So now you’ll have an extra one,” said Hannah. “You must learn that I mean what I say.”

Somehow Phoebe managed to clench her teeth together and hold in the cry of pain upon the second stroke. But god, it was painful. The cane seemed to cut right into her flesh. When she received the third stroke, it landed almost on top of the first two. The pain was agonising.

Hannah prided herself on her accuracy. Usually she could deliver all six strokes within a narrow grouping of a couple of inches. She knew it hurt more that way, if each stroke landed on top of the rest. She gave Phoebe another stroke. The girl’s body trembled. Already the red welts on her bottom were prominent. The remaining strokes landed in a regular rhythm, and then it was done, seven vivid stripes across the centre of her ass.

“Good girl,” said Hannah. “And a brave one. You can rub your bottom now.”

Penelope had been watching the caning with mounting trepidation. She saw how Phoebe trembled, she saw the great effort she had to make to keep silent and in position, and it was clear that the cane stung badly. She wondered if she would be able to deal with it as well as Phoebe, but she certainly didn’t want extra strokes.

“Your turn, Penelope,” said Hannah. “Over the table, please.”

Penelope clung on tight. She stiffened, then wondered if it was best to take the blows without tensing the muscles. Before she could decide, the first stroke landed. It seemed to knock all the breath out of her. Before she could suck in enough air, she received another one. She trembled as she set herself to endure the rest. This was what she had signed up for. She was curious about pain, the effect of pain on s*x. Maybe she would learn something about herself.

The third and fourth strokes followed quickly. Her ass felt on fire. And it felt hot, not quite in a bad way. She relaxed, deciding it was better to accept the pain than to fight it. The next stroke was hard, but the last one seared into her flesh. She gritted her teeth, though inside she wanted to scream.