Melody Smith's Schooldays
by Eve Adorer
Chapter 11 - My Third Week - Tuesday
As I dressed for class the next morning, I was newly girl-woman. I had
experienced sexual pleasure and lost some of my sweet innocence. I knew I could
please sexually. I had the confidence now that I lacked on my arrival, the
confidence in my astounding outstanding attractiveness.
The clothing I was to wear that day seemed to have been chosen with this in the
mind of others than myself alone.
I was naked as I looked in the mirror to ensure I aligned properly the
bright-crimson velvet choker I was fastening around my gorgeously long slim neck
struggling to get my hands behind the cascading waterfall of my superb
dazzlingly shining almost unbelievably long blonde hair.
I had already painted my exquisite mouth with crimson-red lipstick and I was
admiring the light freckles on my face and forehead that a late summer sunburst
had brought to the fore.
I was a fantastically pretty girl and I knew it. I knew it not in any swollen
headed way. I knew it in the way that counts it as a gift: an honour. I was, I
knew now for certain, beautiful, and I wanted to give pleasure to the world
through my beauty.
I was a golden-girl. I was more precious in my loveliness than mere gold though.
I was a woman with the power to devastate by my body, my face, my hair, my eyes,
a glance, a smile, even the merest sigh.
I knew now that I had power. I had woman's power. I also had a woman's
vulnerability. I needed the confirmation of my beauty that the other young women
at the school gave me by their unrestrained admiration.
I knew I had power because I saw the look on the faces of the girls who wanted
to please me and failed to win my smile. And I knew I had power because I saw
the look on the faces of the girls who wanted to please me and won my smile or,
even more so, a smile and a thank you from me.
I was putting livid-scarlet suspenders around my superb hips as I recalled the
passion with which I had been taken the night before and how I had caressed
Marion's hair as she had licked the cream in my eclair and nibbled my clit with
her lips and tongue.
Onto my stupendous legs I rolled the brilliant-scarlet rose-patterned stockings
that had been put out for me, and up onto my left thigh I took, and carefully
placed at stocking top, the bright-crimson velvet garter with huge bright livid
scarlet velvet artificial rose adorning it.
And what a dress they had laid out for me. Brilliantly bright-crimson velvet:
clinging figure-hugging bright-crimson velvet. I put my long slim blonde-downed
forearms through (it was sleeveless), and lowered it over my delectable body,
taking its hem down as far as it would go, and then lifted out the never-ending
abundance of my tumbling blonde locks.
I looked in the mirror to check my dress was on straight and looked also down at
myself.
This was the first time I had shown cleavage. My firm virgin-girl's breasts
poked out the front of the material in delightful round hidden pinnacled
hillocks. My breasts were well covered but a slim vent ran from my breastbone to
my neck: a cleavage-revealing vent: coy, shy, virginal; but cleavage-flashing
nonetheless.
But that was nothing compared with the hemline. Could this hemline be meant? It
surely was: yet is surely was not.
At the back of the dress my bum was only three-quarters covered, and delicious
quarter-moons of my gorgeous firm buttocks peeked brightly-whitely out,
contrasting so with the bright-crimson velvet of the dress as to make them look
whiter and even more innocent of the delight they gave.
And in the middle at the back where it displayed my bummy quarter-bare to the
world, the hem formed itself into a long round tail in pitch black velvet now
that ran down to coil on the ground behind me, and finished in a bright-red
crimson-red arrowhead. It was the tail of a devil, a devil, a deviless, and I
was the deviless it adorned.
If the hem of my bright-crimson velvet dress did not cover all of my delicious
bum at the back, at the front it covered nothing at all.
Was I to walk around all day with my naughty, my totally smooth fresh shaven
shiny soft-skinned super-sensitive virgin schoolgirl's slit on display for the
entire world to see? And how was I to sit with my dress so very short and tight
that it must rise completely off my bummy and show my all and everything
blatantly and shamelessly shamefully shamingly?
I blushed as honey again moistened my slit and my peek-a-boo danced within it at
the thought of this.
But then I noticed a hook sewn into the front of the dress, at centre and just
above the hem. I looked and found an answering loop in the tail that trailed on
the ground behind me, my deviless' tail.
Curiosity caused me to take the tail forward between my thighs and, yes; it was
to hook onto the front of the dress to hide my naughty. I found this incredibly
sexy and fought not to let my honey escape me and anoint my tail.
And yet the tail now hung so strangely. I looked at its arrow-headed-end and
noted that there was a loop attached to it, just behind the arrow itself.
But that was for later: for now, where were my shoes?
I looked high and low around my little side-room, but all I could see was a pair
of bright-crimson ballet shoes.
I could not believe that these were really they. I picked one up and examined
it. It was a ballet shoe, I had danced ballet till I was fifteen, less than a
year since, so I knew a ballet shoe, nobody could deny me that.
And yet this shoe was different. The material was crimson-red-velvet, but there
was more difference than that. As I felt around within it, I soon realised that
it was reinforced with metal. The toe-ends were metal. The soles were made rigid
with steel I assumed: metal too, definitely.
Then I realised what was intended and despite my resolution my slit shot full of
my juice and I let go a tiny fart of arousal.
I cannot deny the eagerness with which I tied on these modified ballet shoes and
ran their laces around my calves and tied them off in double bows, at front of
my legs, just below my knees.
This done, I rose before my mirror. I rose in my ballet-shoe-shod feet. I rose
not just to merely stand. I rose to stand on tiptoe, en pointe. This was the way
I was intended to stand this day. This was the way I was intended to walk this
day: all day.
This and my bright-crimson velvet dress, and my livid-crimson rose-patterned
stockings, and the devils tail coming up between my thighs over my slit, the
loop in the arrow-headed end of which I now put around my right wrist, made me
the complete, the absolutely complete, the totally irresistibly complete
deviless I was to be that day.
As I rose and turned to look at myself dressed-out, no devilled-out, in my
mirror, I saw that the hem of my skirt was now half-off my gorgeous cheeks. I
made no attempt to replace it. I looked at my bum-cheeks as I stood tiptoe
steepled in my ballet shoes and ogled the concave dimples my pirouetted stance
gave my both my cheeks. This was the way it was meant to be. My naughty was
dripping with my honeydew now.
I wiggled out the perfect she-devil, the stupendously sexy deviless half-bared
concaved-cheeked bummy undulating mesmirically, shouts and whistles and cat
calls and "wows" filled the corridors and the school sports ground as I
mince-step-tiptoed along with my divinely long legs looking even longer and more
erotically beautiful than ever before, and that was saying some, as I wiggled
along steeple-legged in constant ballet-dancered pirouette.........
I was in heaven as the adoration of the other girls in the school was poured out
on me. My nipples were hard, my naughty-lips torrenting honey, and my girl-penis
rigid and throbbing as I wiggled and minced along with my long mock-devils tail
trailing from my dainty right wrist, I was but a micro-hairsbreadth from a
public orgasm at the wolf whistles, in my incredibly, incredibly sexy
livid-bright-crimson-red devil's arrow-tailed erotically orgasmic velvet near
non-dress.................
.......and then the head-girl stopped me.
"Smith. You touched Marion's hair last night without permission. You will pay
for that. You will spend tonight on the bitch-wheel before the whole school."
I curtsied, and lowered my head.........
..........And, when I had stood myself up straight once more, a much younger
girl ran up behind me and gave my exposed half-bared dimple-sided firm right
femininely-muscled smackybump a resounding slap: "SMACK". .........And a
split-second later I orgasmed...
.....I orgasmed openly and shamelessly in public, squeezing my thighs on my
devil's tail so that it rubbed on my nude crack, I orgasmed with erotic little
innocent's open-mouthed-closing-eyed-shocked-tiny-girly-gasps, so highly
girl-sexually charged was I...........
