The Schooling of Carolyn

laughed softly, hugging Carolyn from behind, half caress and half containment until Carolyn regained her control.

It wasn't easy. Images of this modern Marilyn half-naked and subdued, not submissive but defeated, glowed before Carolyn's eyes. It had nothing in common with the feelings she'd had in the outside world, and little for what she felt with her tutor, or the various instructors. Even when she was in pain, she never felt any desire for revenge-but this woman she wanted to hurt. And force to enjoy that pain. “What's happening to me?'

'You're learning, silly freshman,” Jack purred into her ear, and followed her words with a half-gentle bite. Carolyn's eyes widened, but Jack gave her no time to truly wonder. “Good cop and bad, and you, my bad girl, had better be bad indeed. It's show time!” And she stepped forward, throwing her shoulders back, leading with her breasts.

Carolyn heard the murmurs of the other students as they crept into the darkened audience section. Poor Jennifer hadn't realized she'd been taken to a stage.

'It might help if you talk about it. We've been through it, too, you know. And maybe there's something we could do?'

'I just … I just want to go home. I didn't think it would be like this, you know?” Starred eyes wide and hopeful, she curled into Jack's offered arm, sobbing prettily. “I thought it'd be fun, like going to boarding school. Parties in the dorms, and dances, and the stuff the sorority girls do, but organized. It looked nice enough, all upper-class and shiny, but the teachers are all monsters and perverts! And I just want to get out of here.'

Carolyn shook her hair back as she stalked onto the stage. For once, she wasn't embarrassed at the thought of the eyes upon her. Short skirt, sheer blouse, shiny shoes-who cared? She felt like a jungle cat, intent upon her prey.

Jack looked up with an inquiring raised eyebrow; Jennifer tried to hide behind the older woman. Carolyn smiled. “You did agree to be here, didn't you? The standard two years, like the rest of us?'

'Yes,” the sobbing, little-girl voice answered, “but I didn't know!'

'Didn't you? Really?” Carolyn loomed over the seated girl, admiring the heaving, jiggling breasts. Not lust, but something darker, moved in her. “You expect us to believe that you came through those gates, toured the hall, read ‘Your Place Is To Obey,’ and didn't know? Little girl, lie to yourself all you wish, but do not lie to us.” She was hissing by the end, her face inches from Jennifer's, watching the blood fade from her cheeks. She looked so fragile, so delicate. Carolyn was tempted to bite her, to watch her bleed. Red blood over that white skin; she shivered.

Jennifer said nothing, just cried her large crystal tears, clutching Jack as though the older woman were her only salvation. Above her head, her two tormentors shared a long, speaking glance; Jack hushed Jennifer, soothing her until she lay back on the couch.

'Listen, you have to know you're stuck here. You made the agreement.” She waited for the slight nod. “So why not try to make the best of it? You said something about sororities? Well, think of me as your sister. Is there anything I can do?'

Jennifer sniffed (delicately, Carolyn noted, and her lips pulling back from her teeth in a shockingly savage smile). “I don't, don't know. I just … everyone's so mean here. They all keep telling me to do things, and not do things, and I just want to feel good.'

Carolyn had to step in. “I'm sure you do.” Jack winked at her, careful not to let Jennifer see. She lifted her chin almost imperceptibly, drawing Carolyn's attention to a form quietly entering the room. Candle, she mouthed, and shrugged.

'This is useless,” Carolyn grated, winking back, “she's not even bright enough to ask for what she wants.” She'd seen the form, too, but was too bound up in her need to care. Her tutor could watch with the rest; she'd worry later. Now there was Jennifer, starry-eyed and hopeful as she looked at Jack, timidly quailing when Carolyn glared.

'Anything,” Jack said again, “just tell me what.'

'I would,” Jennifer rushed to say, “but I don't know! I've never,” she dropped her head, looked up, the very picture of a young woman desperate to be loved, “never, you know?'

Jack's eyes sparked. “Let me help you,” she husked, and pushed Jennifer back onto the couch. Smiling feraly, Carolyn moved to the back of the couch, waiting for the moment her tutor, or the man who had entered seconds later, would interrupt.

And while she waited, she enjoyed the view. Jack was very good at what she did, her hands and mouth drawing responses from Jennifer's body like a master playing a violin. The younger girl never lost her hesitation, even when moaning in pleasure, still somehow innocent. Jack looked like she was in heaven, her face buried in Jennifer's breasts, when the tutor stood. Without saying a word, he drew Carolyn's attention.

Easy enough; her body bent to his like a plant to the sun.

His hand signals were explicit, obscene, and impossible to misunderstand. She nodded, and he sat down to watch the show. Carolyn didn't understand how, but Jack seemed to have seen the commands as well. Her attentions moved lower, and Jennifer began to gasp.

'Oh. Ooh! Jack, I, I…'

Carolyn laughed softly. She even sounds like Marilyn. She sat down on the arm of the couch, surprised to see that Jack had four fingers inside the younger girl, thrusting fast and hard, thumb playing the clit. One last hard stroke and Jennifer came, cooing like a dove.

Jack looked up and nodded, eyes dancing with a pleasure Carolyn shared.

Looks like her, too. Damn!

Her fingers still curled inside, Jack murmured to the girl. “There, that's better, isn't it?'

My turn. “All that fuss, and for what? If you just listened to your tutor…'

Marilyn shook her head, eyes screwed shut. Tears crept free, soaking the couch. “I can't. I just can't. He's so mean!'

'Little girl,” Carolyn purred, “you know nothing about mean. Move over, Jack. You might hold her hands.'

Later, she'd wonder what had happened to her, to make her so yearn to humiliate someone. Later, she'd ask herself if she was “turning gay,” or if it was just the aura of sex that permeated the place. Or if it was something particular to that girl. At the time, she thought nothing like that at all. Her tutor had looked at this woman with lust in his eyes; she'd seen it. And she couldn't even blame him; every man would. Every person. She'd been designed for sex, and she didn't seem to know it, and Carolyn yearned to teach her, as painfully as she could.

She moved between Jennifer's legs, gripped the thighs hard, and where Jack had been a butterfly, Carolyn became a bee. She thrust as hard as she could with her tongue, rubbed it like sandpaper over the tender flesh, scraped her teeth over the clit, pursed her lips and sucked, and when the girl was writhing helplessly, bit down.

She came, sobbing, begging, and Carolyn thrilled to hear the words. And when, seconds later, they were “discovered,” she went smiling to her fate. Jack winked at her, and she whispered back a single word: “candle.'

The game had been worth whatever the cost.

* * * *

She thought that still, later, but her knees shook as she stood before her tutor's desk.

'Tell me,” he invited.

Carolyn shrugged, then sighed, and tried to explain. “She looks like Marilyn Monroe, every man's fantasy. Soft, and unaware, and yearning. And she's annoying, always screaming and crying like that.'

'She hasn't been here all that long. Nor have you, freshman. The new ones are expected to cry a bit. Certainly you still do.'

Carolyn flushed, but smiled nonetheless. Her tutor made a point of punishing her at least every third time they met; she expected to cry when she went to him. And to shake with fear and longing on the way in, longing and exhaustion and pain on the way out again. “I try not to give the others headaches,” she replied.

'So it was revenge?'

'No. Not so simple as that.” She looked away, shame rising higher now, and uncertainty. And a consciousness of her words, having just begun elocution lessons. “I think,” she tried to work out what she was feeling as she spoke, “I think I'm jealous of her. I see the way you look at her, like you wonder what she'd feel like