Swiss College - Ordinary Morning

What was this? In the middle of a happy, sexy dream... what is this feeling? Jeanne snuggled closer to Aisha's warm back and tried to go back to sleep. She slipped back into soft, silky sleep clouds for a few seconds but the feeling was back again. Not unpleasant, but very clear. There was no way to deny reality; it was time to wake up. She slowly opened one eye and looked at the clock.

The wooden clock, a 19th century piece from Germany that fit in well with the generally old fashioned decor, struck a single muted note. 7 o'clock, the right time for her corvèe. Jeanne rolled out of the bed carelessly, since her room mates where such good sleepers that they were not going to wake up anyway. Aisha mumbled something and turned over, towards Pat and Charles who were sleeping in the usual tangle of limbs. Pat's floppy cock was resting comfortably on Charles' thigh, and they showed no sign of waking.

Those two - they were not a couple anymore, but they certainly spent a lot of time within one millimeter of each other, she thought. And they did not have other stable lovers, but this was their own business, and they certainly never denied themselves to _her_.

Jeanne stretched and looked out of the window. The Northern sky was still dark blue, practically dawn time, she thought, but it was only one day out of four. And she did not mind a bit of quiet in the morning. It was her little fragment of time for herself, when she could enjoy freedom of body and mind, before subjecting herself to the strict disciplines of the school and to the continual scrutiny of the school's faculty.

She put on her slippers because of her morbid fear of splinters. The room's wooden floor was impeccable, but morbid fears accept no reasonable objections. And the slippers were very cute, particularly so on the light feet of a blond thin girl.

She walked to the bathroom and closed the door behind herself. There was nothing old fashioned about the bathroom, high tech and impeccably clean. On the far wall of the room, four hoses stuck out of the wall. They were long, thin black hoses, tipped with a metal nozzle. The nozzles rested on a low, tile-covered bench that flowed out of the wall and into the floor. Like the bench, the whole room was very clean, as it was easy to see in the golden light that shone in through the high ribbon window and bounced off the sparkling white tiles of the walls. Showerheads had been integrated into the ceiling on the right, ready right above discrete granite shower pans. There were no flower curtains or other concessions to modesty.

Jeanne, now barefoot, walked up to the bench and dipped her left hand in a low basin full of transparent gel. Slippery, thick and water-based, this was the most commonly used lubricant in the College. It had no smell and only a vague, indefinable taste, which was not particularly important now as Jeanne smeared a generous coating on the nozzle in her right hand. She was thinking of the day's classes as her hands did the customary work. Another day, another dildo, she thought with a little secret smile.

She kneeled on the bench on all fours and spread the leftover lubricant on her anus, making sure to use her fingers to push some inside. Hmmm, slippery and warming up to her body heat. She twisted her flexible back slightly and pushed the nozzle inside her ass, feeling the morning chill on the metal shaft. Her sphincter dilated on the bulbous base and then settled comfortably in the rounded groove just before the connection to the rubber hose. Almost there now. She pushed the button on the wall that started the enema cycle and relaxed, waiting for the flood of body temperature water that was soon delivered into her abbreviated bowels. The system knew her capacity, that was less than most girls her size, and adjusted accordingly. When she felt full, she walked with some clumsiness to a toilet and voided herself, thinking precisely about nothing. The water that she pushed out was perfectly clear, but she knew that she had to have another one, just because. Because she had been told to, because she knew what she was supposed to do, because -ultimately- she was a good student that did what she was told.

So she kneeled again and accepted dutifully her second irrigation. On all four, she accepted the slow flow of water into her bowels and reached for her pussy. No need to be bored - besides it was good to get in one good orgasm in the morning before that evil little slut Luisa got again to work on her. She brought herself to the edge and then the machine in the wall beeped. Her hand did not leave her sex as she waddled to the toilet and she came just as she voided the water. Refreshing.

She dried herself and opened one of the large bathroom closets. The sharp smell of rubber hit her, loaded with intense, pleasant associations. She felt herself getting horny again, despite the recent orgasm, and despite the fact these were just service bodysuits, not the heavy and constrictive suits that she was frequently made to wear. Still, it was enclosure, and it was rubber. "I can do it now, or I can do it later, so better now" she said to herself as she grabbed her chastity belt from her shelf.

The belt was a heavy rubber garment that looked like a pair of panties, if your taste in panties inclines towards black, rubbery, high-waist and lock-on. Inside the belt the night gnomes had thoughtfully installed her current dildo and butt plug. A brief glance confirmed that the sizes had not increased yet, although she had a feeling that this week she would be due for a bigger plug. She dutifully lubricated the toys and slipped on the belt. If this had been Pat dressing her, the dildos would have been the instruments for extended teasing and exciting little tricks. The dickgirl never lost any occasion to add some play to duty. But since this was just herself, she pushed the toys inside of herself with a utilitarian shove.

She tightened the belt straps, whose ratcheting mechanism could be loosened only by one of the teachers or Luisa, for her own nasty purposes. Then she slipped into her bodysuit, a white slightly nurse-like tight garment that had to be worn with a hood, a ball gag and high heels. She remembered how intimidated she had been when she had had her first corvée, and how Charles had walked her through it in his methodical and calm manner. She was just a little 12-years old girl, fresh out of the big dorm where all the little kids were, and very nervous at the idea of moving to one of the grownup rooms. It was only later that she realized how lucky she had been to end up in the Blue Room.

She adjusted her ball gag and used a silicone cloth to give a brief, perfunctory shine to the bodysuit. While she was working on her knees, she heard the clock strike half past seven in the bedroom. She stood at attention next to the door and waited for her charges to enter the room. Charles and Aisha walked in naked, still yawning and barely able to say "good morning". Pat entered the room while taking off her frilly nightshirt and kissed Jeanne on the cheek. "Good morning, darling, good night of sleep? And look what I got here for you!" Pat was obviously hinting at her dick and its predictable morning hard on. This was all strictly joshing of course, first because Jeanne was gagged, plugged and tightly locked inside her belt, and second because they all had things to do right now and could not be distracted by horny dickgirls.

Jeanne stepped in front of her friends and tied up their hands with light Velcro restraints.

Her roommates followed the usual morning routine. They all assumed the proper position and offered their asses to her. So individual! Aisha’s ass was brown, perfectly round and bouncy. Everybody enjoyed giving her a good spanking every now and then, and she was usually a good sport about it. Pat had muscular, tight but feminine buttocks, while Charles had a typical male butt, well exercised, squarish and with a hint of concavity. He had a habit of clenching unconsciously when he was on all four. Jeanne caressed his lower back and he immediately relaxed after realizing how tense he had been.

The girl, now fully immersed in her role of morning nurse, lubricated the nozzles and pushed them inside her friend's asses. Normally she would finish first, but since the morning she was on corvèe it was Aisha’s unit that beeped first. Then Pat finished and then Charles, whose big body could take in so much more fluid than the others. Aisha was soon back for the second enema just as Pat waddled over to the toilet. Each one got the regulation three that were mandatory for everybody except honeylickers like Jeanne, for whom two were enough.

Jeanne managed the traffic between enema tubes and toilet, washed tenderly each ass that was presented to her, dried and lubed them and made sure that everybody got the right set of sex toys. By coincidence they were all wearing butt plugs today, but Pat had to be fitted with an Arab strap, a heavy, shiny metal implement that kept her cock and balls under control. Jeanne was a naturally affectionate, loving girl and her nature shone through all the time: she was very mindful of details and made sure that all her friends got their first orgasm of the day. This was not one of the mandatory duties of the morning nurse, but it was certainly appreciated, particularly so by Pat.

Her friends were untied, showered and walked out of the bathroom while she had a hurried shower. Oh, relief! According to the little note pinned to her section of the corkboard, today she was supposed to dress in kinky rubber but not a in a full bodysuit. This was at the same time good and bad: good, because she was going to be able to move rather more freely than yesterday, and bad, because this meant that some strenuous activity was going to take place. But she had learned to accept the school program as it came, sometimes violently, sometimes sweetly, but always as a surprise.

She completed her dress with high heel boots that reached above her knees and kissed the hem of her shirt rubber skirt. The clock struck a quarter past eight as Jeanne closed the door to her room and hurried down the corridor to the stairs. She passed mostly empty rooms and saw only Jasmine, who was walking as if in a daze. As a matter of fact, she was in a daze most of the time, completely submerged in the advanced mathematics that were her hobby and perhaps the most remarkable interest she had. Late for breakfast, as usual.

Some of the rooms had doors that hinted to the habits of the inhabitants. Black, shiny metal doors, rough weathered wood, mirror finish, a curtain of pearls and even a sort of orifice that looked a bit too alive and biological for comfort. Jeanne walked particularly fast in front of a certain green door, even if she knew that Luisa was probably already in the refectory. There were strange metallic sounds coming out of the Steel Room. They were probably having some sort of ritual. She did not want to know, her relationship with the Steel Bitches was not so fantastic.

After a flight of grand stairs she passed Miss Bamberg and Mr. Wilson, both back from their morning jog. They were followed by Harold the ponyboy, on a leash and still tied up in his running tack. Jeanne curtsied gracefully, avoided the ground floor corridor (a part of the school that was unpleasantly dark because it had no outside windows), detoured around the cloister with no time to smell the abundant roses and burst into the Refectory anteroom. She curtsied to the breakfast monitor chained on her podium and walked into the Refectory proper.

About forty students were busy having breakfast. Some were so immobilized by what they were wearing that they had to be fed by someone else. Others too were being fed, but more as an expression of devotion by their slaves than as a necessity. One big breasted girl had been tied to her chair with black straps around her arms, her chest and her legs. Her head was free and her eyes were closed in bliss, as two younger girls suckled her nipples from either side. The girls were sitting next to her and they caressed her as they fed. They too had their eyes closed and the trio seemed to be in a headspace much more private than a busy refectory in the morning. Every now and then the girls detached their greedy suckling mouths from the cowgirl and exchanged a quick kiss before going back to the fat red nipples in front of them.

Jeanne also glimpsed that the girls' hands were at work between the cowgirl's legs. Open sex was frowned upon in the refectory, but an exception was always made for cowgirls: horniness and feeding were too connected in their minds.

Her quick gaze scanned the room for her closest friends, the other inhabitants of the Blue Room, and found them sitting around a table. She sat, too, and had a small espresso, which was all she could take. Charles was gorging on cereal, and amidst much crunching and popping was describing in detail the effects of a Tantric Yoga session to Aisha, while Pat, who detested yoga and anything that did not come with a bibliography, listened very skeptically and finally proposed his own interpretation:

"The way I see it, it is just a way for not coming for hours and hours and then coming all of a sudden. Any cock ring can do that. You are just putting a lot of words on simple muscles, clenching and releasing. And pressure on nerves."

Charles was trying to inject some mysticism back into the conversation when Jeanne realized that she was very hungry and that she would have to leave the table if she didn't want to eat in a hurry. She excused herself and kissed Charles on the mouth. As she stood up, she noticed that a nice muscular boy from Senegal had joined the cowgirl scene. He had pulled his black cock out of his pants and he was busy fucking her face. The two younger girls were holding her head still as he bucked back and forth, in full view of the room. Of course he would be punished for such lewd behavior in the Refectory, but she could not stay for that - her stomach was now rumbling. She walked at the end of the room, where the three herms were to be found.

They were herms only in an extended sense of the term. The word "torso" would have been more appropriate, but it had an unpleasant forensic ring to it, while "herm" is a nice classical term. Picture a niche, set into the wall for about eight inches. Inside this niche, there is a human torso. As you look closer, you realize that the torso is completely embedded into the niche and that there would be no room for arms, legs or - indeed a head. The torso ends about two inches into his arms, thighs and neck. And it is definitely a male torso.

The center herm, the darkest one, was available. Jeanne kneeled comfortably on a pad in front of it and looked at the fat chubby penis that rested on smooth testicles. Soft, and still moist from the previous service. Just right, she thought, as she took it into her hands and started stroking it lightly, with occasional interruptions for rolling the balls around delicately. In no time at all she had a splendid erection bobbing out of the wall and in front of her face. This moment has always been slightly embarrassing, she thought daintily, and then plunged on the brown cock as elegantly as she could. The cock squirmed slightly as it entered her mouth, and her mind involuntarily reeled off what was happening: a DNA sample from her saliva had been taken by the organ itself, to be analyzed by the herm. Her identity had been recognized and organo-mechanic devices inside the wall had started work on preparing her custom food. The cock, meanwhile, was getting harder inside her mouth. As soon as it touched her palate, her teeth collapsed into their gums, converting the inside of her mouth into a soft velvety cave, full of stimulating ridges and rubbery cheek gills. She sucked on, enjoying the taste of the first drops issuing from the artificial penis inside her mouth. Sweet, creamy and extraordinarily delicious. This was what it tasted to her, because of the specialized taste receptors in her mouth. To any student that was not a honeylicker, it would have tasted foul.

If she had wanted to, she could have had the herm orgasm in three minutes. But she was not in a hurry, and she believed in being kind to everything, including partly alive machines, so she continued lovingly sucking and caressing. The cock filled her mouth nicely, sliding smoothly in her specially designed mouth. She knew by now that her owner and his family were great lovers of oral sex, and that oral slavery would be one of her major duties after she graduated. Well, nothing wrong with that, she thought: nothing she could not handle there. She swallowed a mouthful of pre-cum mixed with her own saliva and hummed contentedly around the big brown penis. It had really nice balls, she thought, they felt like silk covered plums in her hands.

She glanced at the big clock on the far wall and noticed that she had to be out of here in ten minutes top. As she started sucking harder and swirling her talented, long tongue around the large penis in her mouth, she felt soft hands touching delicately the small of her back. Only Pat would touch her in this way. She didn't even have to look. She straightened her body slightly, which to Pat was as good as a go ahead, and felt that the dickgirl was busy at opening her rubber bra.

Pat started caressing her breasts and playing with her nipples. She rolled them between her fingers and experimentally tugged on them, making Jeanne squirm. She had no doubt that, were it not for her chastity belt and Pat's Arab strap, Pat would be fucking her right now.

The artificial cock suddenly started growing inside her mouth, locking itself in place. With the extraordinarily numerous nerve endings that lined her mouth, she felt the organ lose any similarity with a cock and develop into a rubbery football that filled her mouth completely. She did not have any fear of suffocating, as her respiratory tract had been redesigned with an eye to oral sex.

Pat was now pinching her nipples without much subtlety, which was very good at that moment.

The knot in her mouth was now being stimulated only by the wriggling of her long, muscular tongue that was trapped underneath it, and by the careful movement of her cheek gills. The knot suddenly shot out a long, smooth hose that slithered quickly down her esophagus and reached what passed for her stomach. The tip of the feeder tube poked inside the cavity and inflated, anchoring itself in place. Her eyes were closed, as she felt the feeder tube straighten itself as much as possible. What was being done to her body from the inside had no human name - but she felt the love. She was being cared for; she was being fucked and fed at the same time.

The herm came, and kept coming, filling her with warm, dense food. The thick cream travelled in spurts inside the cock, through her gagged mouth and down the feeder tube, to settle inside her rapidly filling stomach. She felt the rhythmic contractions inside her and her skin tingled all over. Her sex tightened around her daily dildo and she thought how much nicer this would be with a human penis inside her - but this would do. She bore down on it, to squeeze some more millimeters of penetration from the hard rubber. Her ears were buzzing, she was flushed all over and her back broke out in tiny drops of sweat. She grabbed her breasts from below and offered them blindly, which prompted Pat to pull her nipples hard, turning her tits into elongated sensitive cones. The peristaltic pumps inside the wall were close to draining the food bladder when Jeanne came too, under the patient touch of Pat. The dickgirl, in addition to stimulating and tormenting her tits, had discreetly pushed a pointy boot tip under her crotch and was pushing up rhythmically. Despite the heavy rubber chastity belt, the message had reached her pussy.

She felt the feeder tube retract, and the cock in her mouth went back to normal proportions. She reluctantly let it flop out and caressed it like you would caress a pet. Then she dried it carefully with her handkerchief, forgetting its ornamental function and setting herself up for punishment later, at uniform inspection time.

"Ok, it is not alive, but I think that it likes me and anyway it feels nicer if I treat it a bit like a person, and anyway..."

Pat shushed her with a kiss and helped her up to her feet. No need to explain, her smile said, it was all OK.

"Shh, girlfriend, it is only to your credit... Do you have an appointment with Madame Landau later? Yes, I do too. Mine is around three, I wonder what she wants. It is never simple, happy stuff with Madame Landau."

Pat and Jeanne, hand in hand, walked to Mathematics. Jasmine was at the head of the group as they filed inside a ground floor classroom.