The School of Hard Knocks- Part 4
Now waiting in the classroom with the students, Mistress Prin was brooding about Miss Blake’s only known weakness, a sudden and intense infatuation with someone. Rebecca had got under Miss Blake’s skin and that was dangerous.
But she would be a given a chance, although, regardless of the outcome, the student would be leaving the Slave Institute School. Prin couldn’t risk any further embarrassment to her staff, and more importantly, to her own reputation. Rebecca would be accepted to train under Frau Marlen in Munich. Far enough away, yet still given her opportunity.
Her thoughts were interrupted as the door opened and Miss Blake walked in with Rebecca. They were virtually identical in attire, although Miss Blake’s front zip thigh boots seem to be a new addition, with Rebecca wearing the more traditional style. Both women were wielding thin birch canes and they bowed slightly to the Mistress. She regarded them icily as they entered the classroom.
Minutes passed and there was still no sign of the wretched gimps, Mistress Prin got to her feet. Both Rebecca and Miss Blake stalked around the classroom, the canes swishing with menace.
“What nonsense is this, Miss Blake? What lesson are we supposed to be watching? Both of you swanning around in your domme gear? Playing at being Mistresses? I’ve seen enough of this performative idiocy. You’ll both come to my office in an hour.”
Mistress Prin headed to the door, with Rebecca suddenly in front of her. The girl’s eyes were jet black, her mouth sneered in contempt.
“Get back to your fucking seat.”
The girls gasped and Mistress Prin’s face flushed with fury. Rebecca raised the cane and the Mistress quickly grabbed her arm, painfully bending it back behind her. Rebecca yelped in pain and dropped the weapon. Mistress Prin unleashed a furious right hand, a full slap to the side of Rebecca’s head, knocking the girl against the door. A swift rabbit kick followed and struck her in the gut. Rebecca fell and Mistress Prin reached down, grabbing her throat, the older woman still more than a match for her much younger opponent who was gasping for air.
“If I was even five years younger, cunt, I would cripple you. Only one other person dared put their hands on me, and they ended up in a hospital bed for almost a year. You can join them……. Miss Blake, come to me at once. This little bitch needs to be loaded in the cattle truck.”
Miss Blake stood. Her expression was uncertain, a real conflict of loyalty. Mistress Prin turned and fixed the Miss with a gorgon’s glare. She took a handful of Rebecca’s hair and dragged the girl to her feet, before viciously slamming her head into the wall. Miss Blake moved forward, concerned for her young lover.
Prin picked Rebecca up and went to slam her again, except this time, Miss Blake was now behind the Mistress. Her arm was tightly around the neck of her mentor……Blake spitefully dug her heel into the calf of Mistress Prin, forcing her down to the floor. She kept the chokehold in place and the Mistress faded quickly. Rebecca swayed a little, but she aimed a stinging kick to Mistress Prin’s ribs, her bruised and bleeding face a mask of incendiary anger.
Miss Blake pulled Rebecca away and grabbed some leather straps, comprehensively hogtying the Mistress.
With the weeks passing, Mistress Prin’s station had been reduced dramatically. New Headmistress Blake had now taken the reins of the school, and the former legendary Mistress’s position served as a warning to those who dared challenge the new world order. Prin’s custom made and expensive leather wardrobe was now swapped for simple latex drone attire. She could only grunt her displeasure as she knelt at Headmistress Blake’s boots every day…..
Our savant had now been firmly on the path of Mistress herself. Under the continuous tutelage of Headmistress Blake, the formidable Miss Rebecca Fury was fast cementing her reputation in the Slave Institute. Her particular skill lay in assessing and interviewing slaves and failed students alike.
Mistress Prin often spoke about the importance of succession……now she gets to see it every day.
Months of training had turned Miss Fury into a sleek, cruel machine. Her trademark cuffs were never far from her hand, and her boots were a true extension of her power.
pixelskylines
germansingergirl
yousharknotpass
jacobvanloon
izzy806
gummygunk
2087
dailybridgerton
