The voice belonged to what was quite possibly the most powerful figure at Davinci: Tanja K. Always impeccably dressed, and with a permenant look on her face usually described to be worn by vicious and bloodthirsty queens, when Tanja walked down the hall, the students parted. Hers was a presence of respect brought on by fear, lust and jealousy – she embodied everything that was so damn appealing about The K Group. Girls wanted to be her, boys wanted to fuck her, and nobody would realize these desires.
The other two girls in the bathroom rushed towards the door. I made a move to do the same, but Tanja put a hand on my shoulder.
“Not you, slut.” She said to me. “You’re staying.”
She stared at me for a few seconds, I assume assuring herself that the bathroom was indeed clear, and then spoke again.
“I’m going to say these two things, and you’re going to listen to them very carefully. First, you tell nobody. You tell nobody anything. Second, you only get one shot at this. Tomorrow could be the first day of your new life, or it could be just another in a series of experiences in mediocrity. Impress us.”
Wide eyed, I responded. “Uh huh.”
“Hands on the sink.” She said to me.
I immediately turned around and placed my hands on the bathroom sink, in the position of getting frisked by a cop.
I felt her grabbing the hem of my slightly-longer-than-knee-length skirt. “You didn’t hesitate.” She told me. “That’s good.”
She tossed the skirt up over my lower back, and gave a single severe spanking to my right butt cheek. Then she grabbed the skirt again, threw it back down over my legs, and spent a moment’s care smoothing it.
“Wear different panties tomorrow.” She instructed me. “I want to be able to see that ass if I so choose.”
Again, I responded “Uh huh.”
Putting her mouth next to my ear, she gave me my last instruction. “Now leave.” |