worthless lil painslut

my submissive life
2005-06-14 23:59:06 (UTC)

Sorority School

My sorority sisters have enrolled all us pledges in a very
tough sorority course. The class is difficult, the
Professor strict, and punishment for breaking the rules is –
corporal. The dress code requires us to wear tight white
blouses, short pleated skirts, shoes 2 sizes too small, and
nametags. My name, for purposes of the course, is “ugly
whore.”

I knew before I walked in the door that today was going to
suck. I was late and I had forgotten my nametag. This was
the third time this month I had arrived late and the
Professor was pissed. Since I had no nametag, the
Professor took a red magic marker and wrote “ugly whore”
across my forehead. Then, as punishment for coming late,
he gave me the knuckle cracker – that is a whipping on my
knuckles by a thin and stinging baton. I got 30 hard
lashes, three times the normal 10 because, well, that
should be obvious. The other students giggled as I shook
out my hands and walk to my seat.

The Professor is quizzing us today on a variety of random
subjects. Of course we are punished for getting a question
wrong. I am called on for “what year did Alexander the
Great found the city of Alexandria?” Are you kidding? I’m
not an archeology major! I guess wrong. Punishment for
being wrong is 5 with the paddle. Up to the front of the
room I am marched by the ear, bent over the Professor’s
desk, skirt lifted and my bare ass paddled hard. Before
being allowed to return to my desk, the dunce cap is placed
on my head. I ease myself into my hard, wooden seat and
look at the clock, 45 minutes to go.

The Professor passes out last weeks quiz. My fellow
pledge, “little tits,” got the highest score. Her prize is
to be allowed to penalize anyone who scored in the bottom
half of the class. Myself and the other bottom 50% are
lined up in the front of the room. I can see ‘little tits’
grinning at me. She was always jealous of my larger tits,
which I guess is why she opt3ed to give them 20 good
strokes with the riding crop. Hands behind my head, blouse
open, counting aloud each lash – what a day.

Next we turn in our homework assignments. Or should I say,
those who were fortunate enough to remember their homework
assignments turn them in, unfortunately, I do not fall into
that category. Crap. The Professor has had enough of me
today. Once again I find myself at the front of the
class. Skirt totally removed, I am bent over the
Professor’s desk for another hard lesson. One by one each
of my homework-doing peers is allowed to come up and give
me 2 hard swats on the ass with the paddle, strap, crop or
cane. That’s about 60 strokes, not counting the earlier
ones from the Professor. I must say “thank you” to each of
my fellow pledges as they deliver my 2 strokes and tell me
what a dumb ugly fuck-up I am.

That takes up most of the remaining class and my classmates
are dismissed. I however spend the next 30 minutes, still
without my skirt, writing, “I will not forget my homework
or my nametag ever again” on the blackboard. I am finally
given back my skirt but still not allowed to leave. The
Professor has me kneel in a corner with the dunce cap still
on my head. There I remain as the next class enters. This
class is outside the sorority and I can hear them laughing.

For the first half-hour the Professor virtually ignores me,
except for the occasional reminder to keep my back straight
and my nose closer to the corner. Then I realize why the
Professor had me stick around. This is a health class and
he wanted to use me as an example of someone who is
overweight. I am not obese mind you, but my sisters have
reminded me daily that I need to lose a good 40 or 50
pounds. The Professor has me stand on a chair and strip in
front of the class. I am mortified ever more as I remember
my name, “ugly whore” is still written on my forehead.

The Professor reads aloud my weight and measurements. He
calculates my body-fat and explains why this is so
unhealthy. He pinches my rolls of fat to emphasize his
point. I step off the chair and am forced to do jumping
jacks so the Professor can demonstrate how my overly fat
tits bounce and my thighs jiggle. The Professor invites
the class up one by one to feel how heavy my sagging tits
are and to grab a handful of my fleshy stomach and ass. I
am not allowed to wipe away the tears rolling down my
face. The students enthusiastically examine any stretch
marks and cellulite they find. They also take note of the
stripes and bruises on my recently spanked ass.

15 minutes remain in the class. The Professor passes out a
quiz to the students. He announces he will do me a favor
and orders me to jog in place, still naked, for the
duration. The Professor paces around looking for cheaters
and smacks me repeatedly with a yardstick for not keeping
my knees up and pumping my arms. I am quickly short of
breath and the Professor interrupts the quiz to explain
this as a sign of how out of shape I am.

When the quiz is complete the class is dismissed. They
laugh and whisper about me as they exit. The Professor
encourages his students to remember my fat jiggling body
next time they order a pizza, and suggests they keep their
eyes out for me in the mess hall and do me a favor by
dumping a bowl of ice-cream on my head if they should see
me eating any. Next the Professor takes the small paddle
out of his desk and smacks my palms a final 10 times each
while reminding me not to be so late or forgetful next
week. I am allowed to dress and walk back to the sorority
house, still wearing my “ugly whore” label.