The Marcott Academy I By: Jackie
PREFACE:
This is another dusted off relic from 2008. Originally written for and posted on a site that catered more to the Sapphic community. Alas it no longer exists so if you missed it before here's the reboot. The tale is told in six segments. Comments always encouraged.
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I
Chantel was preparing to leave her home and she didn't know when she'd be back. She`d been told all she needed to pack was underwear and pajamas, her other clothes would be supplied. She would be attending the Marcott Academy for girls, the most exclusive girl's school in the tri-state area. It was her stepmother's idea.
The thirteen year old emptied her underwear and nightwear drawers into one of her dad's suitcases. It wasn't half full. She thought about taking Mister Muggs her beloved teddy but decided that since she was going to become a refined young woman, that stuffed animals were no longer acceptable companions. She left him looking as forlorn as she did up against the pillows of her neatly made bed. The suitcase was heavy but it didn't feel any heavier than when she'd hauled it into her room this morning.
Darnell Williams stood at the front door as his daughter reached the top of the stairs. "Oh honey let me bring that down for you," he said as he athletically bounded up the stairs and took the unwieldy piece of luggage out of the teenager's hand. She loved her dad with all her heart and she wished him nothing but happiness, but the woman he had chosen as a mate following her mother's death three years ago made her wonder what price SHE would have to pay for it. Roberta Lee was as fine an example of African American beauty as you could hope to find. It was easy to see how her father had fallen head over heels for the milk chocolate skinned woman. Chantel thought the phrase `drop dead gorgeous' was written while looking at her. Her father was no slouch. As a matter of fact if you saw Darnell and Roberta walking down the street you might think you'd stumbled on Halle and Danzel walking arm in arm. The teenager's real mother had been no less lovely Chantel always thought she bore a striking resemblance to Whitney Houston, before... well you know.
The BMW X5 that the suitcase had just been thrown into was Roberta's idea too. Chantel's dad had grown up on the mean streets. He dragged himself out of poverty by working hard and being blessed with the rare combination of athletic ability and intelligence. The athletic prowess had earned him a full ride football scholarship. When a senior season injury ended his chances in the pros his 3.8 grade average in sales and marketing made him a heavily recruited prospect to the corporate world. Not content to rest on his laurels he earned his MBA the hard way. Now it was all paying off. With his appointment a year ago to Vice President, still shy of his fortieth birthday, he became the first person of color to achieve that lofty position with his firm—not to mention the youngest.
Chantel's stepmother was another story altogether. She became the third generation of her family to enter the legal profession. It was manifest destiny. She`d lived in affluence all her life and for her the best MIGHT be good enough. That's sort of how she connected to vice president Williams—he was the hottest young executive around. Roberta was the legal counsel assigned to her dad's firm and they worked closely on contracts in his new position. Long hours in the office soon turned into intimate dinners and well... Three months after her dad got his promotion the couple announced their engagement. It was a New Year's Eve revelation. Surprisingly a huge magnificent wedding was not a priority for the gorgeous lawyer—speed was. They were married in a small ceremony with just close friends on the island of Aruba in March.
Chantel's life changed that day in ways she couldn't have imagined. Roberta tried to get close to her teenaged step daughter but Chantel saw her as trying to replace her mother and that of course was not only impossible; it was unacceptable. The first thing she did when she moved in was to go through all my clothes' the teenager recalled. She especially didn't seem to like my underwear. That day she came home with all new stuff and made me try it all on and model it for her made me feel really funny... uh, but kinda sexy too. The way she touched and poked to see if it fit right... but I still don't like her' the teen thought. `To make matters worse she also takes all of her my dad's time.'
Time that had belonged to Chantel until last fall.
The Beemer rocketed down the interstate toward the secluded site of the Marcott Academy. Chantel sat in the back feeling deserted—replaced. Roberta had convinced her father that the only place for his... their daughter to get her secondary education was the prestigious facility opened thirty years ago by the renegade educator Miranda Marcott. The school guaranteed admission on graduation to the Ivy League school of your choice and they delivered. The additional attraction was that they accelerated the four year high school program completing the state sanctioned requirements in three years. It was enormously expensive but for the well heeled lawyer and her rising star husband money was no object.
Miranda Marcott was an academic prodigy. She acquired her first university degree at sixteen. Her doctorate in education came at the tender age of twenty two. Her innovative and sometimes radical ideas on teaching put her at odds with most of the education community. There was only one solution and that was to start her own school. At the age of thirty she was able, with her academic credentials, to get the financial backing she needed. The quality of graduate was not of course evident for five years but by the time the Academy celebrated the end of its first decade word had begun to spread far and wide. In the subsequent twenty years the Academy's reputation continued to grow to near legendary proportions. Alumnae included bank presidents and CEOs, successful lawyers, renowned educators and physicians. Doctor Marcott's favorite achievement was that her staff was now comprised solely of past graduates.
Many analyses of the Academy's graduates had been done by different organizations for a multitude of reasons. A study that had not been done, and would have doubtless surprised many learned minds, was the rate of marriages. Less than twenty percent of Marcott graduates ever married. Stacked against a national average considerably over seventy percent the disparity was startling and might have been cause for further investigation had anyone noticed—but they didn't.
The X5 glided silently up the tree lined drive to the main building. Roberta had been here once before. Neither Chantel nor her father had ever laid eyes on the stately thirty year old building. They were suitably impressed. Darnel Williams stepped down from his SUV and stretched mightily after the two hour drive. Roberta got out the other side and smoothed her skirt and straightened her blouse. Chantel did not move. She sat looking out the window at what was to be her home likely for the next three years. She felt like crying.
She sniffled, took a deep breath and angrily wiped a stray tear. She could hear her step-monster already `Oh don't be such a baby!'—then her father would come to her defense and the newlyweds would argue in private. The teenager had already played that scene and in her opinion the monster always won so there really was no point in causing the friction. The wise beyond her years girl finally stepped out of the Beemer when she was confident she had her emotions in check. She stood looking up at the classic architecture of the three story academy in her cute but way too expensive little dress. Roberta was saying "Isn't it magnificent!"
"Very impressive," her husband agreed and then turned to his daughter "What do you think so far honey?" The look on his face told it all. His eyes pleaded for a positive response but the rest of his face was anguished. `How can I leave her here... not see her for months?' He almost scooped the adorable little creature up and jumped back in the BMW. He could see himself peeling rubber down the damn stately drive—but he didn't. Roberta had convinced him that this was best for Chantel and he would put his own feelings aside, swallow the massive lump in his throat, and find a way to smile. Chantel simply looked at her dad and her expression also said all that needed to be said. Darnell took his daughter's hand and together the three of them mounted the steps.
Mister Williams pressed the front door buzzer noticing the surveillance cameras trained on the entrance. The pretty blonde teenager who answered the door looked to be no more than sixteen. "You must be the Williams, we've been expecting you," she said opening the door invited the family inside with a grandiose arm gesture.
As soon as she'd closed the door she turned to the teenager and said "Hi Chantel, I'm Barbara, but everybody calls me Barbie." The dark skinned girl was thinking what an apt name it was for the well developed tall blonde. "If you`d be so kind as to have a seat I'll summon miz Millie for you." She disappeared down a hallway and Darnell could not help watching the sway of the pert ass and the short plaid skirt. He was married not dead. Roberta took note of the thrilling spectacle as well. Mister and missus Williams seated themselves in the burgundy leather wing backed chairs that were interspaced with small mahogany tables along one wall. Chantel remained standing.
Each member of the African American family did their own appraisal of the opulent lobby. They all wound up looking at the dominant feature, a life sized portrait of a beautiful woman in a cream colored suit. The grey streaks in the shoulder length auburn hair must surely be highlights as the woman appeared to be no more than forty.
"That's Miranda Marcott," Roberta whispered needlessly. They would have all been surprised to learn that the school's founder was over fifty when the ten year old portrait had been done. All three of them were gazing up at the painting when they heard, "Isn't she wonderful?" the question drew their attention to the tall slender woman in a navy Marcott Academy blazer and a charcoal grey skirt. "Hello, I'm Mildred Brown the Head Mistress of the Academy," the elegant brown haired woman introduced herself and extended her hand, interestingly toward Roberta first. "If you'll accompany me to my office there are a few papers to sign to make everything official."
Miz Brown explained the documents one by one and made copies for the Williams to take with them. She also handed Darnell a `Parent's Guide' that set forth rules for parents.
Returning to the lobby missus Williams gave her step daughter a peck on the cheek and said, "Study hard sweetheart."
Mister Williams hugged his only child ferociously fighting back tears. He wanted to say something but he couldn't trust his voice so he simply conveyed his love and sorrow in a look from his dark water filled eyes. Chantel returned the moist gaze and after all no words were necessary. Mildred Brown and the newest student of the Marcott Academy watched the BMW disappear down the drive from the front steps of the institute.
After a respectful moment the Head Mistress said "Come along dear; let's get you settled." Wrapping her arm around the tiny shoulders she guided the teenager back inside.
As they climbed the wide staircase the head mistress explained that most of the classrooms were on the first floor. The second floor she told her charge, as they rounded the hallway to the next level, was dorm rooms for second and third year students. They made the final turn to the last flight of stairs when Mildred informed the child that the third floor was the instructor's apartments and the freshman dorm rooms. There wasn't another soul in sight.
"Am I the only one here?" Chantel asked.
"Actually sweetheart right now it's just you, me and Barbie". We like to have the freshmen arrive one by one so we can give them very personal attention. The other first year girls will be arriving three a day for the next few days. When they're all here there'll be twelve of you... Here we are" the older woman opened the door to a spacious little room about ten by ten feet. The two dominant pieces of furniture were the three quarter bed in one corner and a desk with a hutch in another. With the desk chair pushed under the desk there was still plenty of room to walk around in the center. Chantel was appraising her new home when Barbie arrived with her suitcase.
Wow she's strong' the dark skinned girl marveled she lugged that monstrosity up three flights of stairs all by herself?' the blonde teenager set the bag down in the doorway.
"If you don't need me right now mam I'm going to go down to the second floor common room."
"That's fine, thank you Barbie." Mildred agreed.
The new student studied the wardrobe she'd be wearing for the next three years before her fellow student disappeared back down the stairs. It wasn't all that bad. The head mistress opened the closet door recessed into the wall beside the desk. Hanging neatly were ten white blouses, three plaid skirts and two blazers.
`Well it'll save a lot of time wasted deciding what to wear,' the teenager thought and it amused her.
"I'll explain laundry procedures and so on to you tomorrow," miz Brown announced as she selected one of each of the uniform components from the closet. "Right now I'll show you to the washroom where you can freshen up after your long journey and change into your uniform. Do you want to take fresh undies?" Chantel thought there was really no reason to change her underwear or even shower, if that's what her instructor was suggesting. Never the less she hoisted the behemoth suitcase onto the bed and extracted white cotton bra and panty set.
A half a mile away in the specially constructed "viewing room" off her bed room Miranda Marcott sat at the console manipulating a joy stick. The little lever positioned one of the two cameras in the bedroom, in every bedroom, cleverly disguised in the wall sconces. The strategically placed spy tools allowed her to see every square inch of the room; in most cases from two angles. She had merely to enter the room number and the twin twenty inch monitors displayed camera A and camera B. right now she was zooming in on the young black girl leaning over her suit case, appreciating what a fine ass she seemed to have under the patterned silk dress. She was thinking how fortunate it had been that the class of '97 had produced an M.I.T. Graduate. It made it so much easier to upgrade the old system to this state of the art technology. It had been very expensive, but worth every penny to the quintessential voyeur.
Millie Brown and her newest student left the bedroom. Miranda didn't bother to switch to the hall cameras, but instead selected the ones in the bathroom. There were eight of them covering the open area, the toilet stalls and the showers. The room, of course, was empty. Screen A and B now displayed the marble interior of the open area. Doctor Marcott had never been pleased with the sound from the washroom microphones. The acoustics in the stone room were horrible and she often found she had to use headphones to hear what was being said. She watched with jaded interest as her Head Mistress entered carrying the girl's new uniform on three separate hangers followed immediately by the chocolate skinned teenager.
"Let me help you," the Mistress was saying as soon as they arrived in the shower area.
Chantel was shocked when the older woman accompanied her into one of the four shower cubicles, and began to unzip her dress. The small dressing area in front of the actual shower stall had a towel rack on the right hand wall, with four big fluffy white towels on it. The short wall beside the door provided four clothes hooks. On side opposite to the towels was a small wooden bench attached to the wall. The cubicle had a door but there was no door blocking the change area from the shower area. When the dress zipper reached the bottom of its travel at the top of the sumptuously round teenaged butt, her adult assistant shoved it off her shoulders causing the thin material to slide down her arms. Chantel automatically clutched the semi shed top of the dress to her bosom to cover herself.
Maybe she's was just helping me unzip' the teen thought and now she'll give me some privacy.'
When miz Brown stepped around her and gripped the front of her loose dress she knew she'd been wrong. As the Head Mistress tugged the expensive material from her clutching fingers the young miz Williams was inclined to resist but something in the older woman's eyes told her it was futile. Chantel clung to her modesty for a second and then let the Academy's Administrator take her dress away. Lowering the fine fabric she said "OK step out honey." The girl raised each foot in turn and the matron acquired full possession of her clothes. "It's a lovely dress" she commented as she hung it on one of the clothes hooks beside the still open door. "We'll have it cleaned, and you can take it home with you at Christmas."
The teenager felt the fluttering in her tummy. It was a lot like that day when her stepmother had her try on the new undies. She was very glad right now that Roberta had replaced her undergarments with the pretty, and expensive, lace trimmed sets. They were cotton just like her old ones but these had style and they matched. In spite of the fact that she was proud of them she was fighting the urge to try and cover up.
Millie glanced up at the camera to make sure she wasn't obstructing her boss's view before instructing the girl to turn around. The lace trimmed white cotton panties fit so perfectly around the prominent chocolate ass cheeks and provided such a spectacular contrast to the girl's dark skin that it made the Head Mistress's pussy twitch. Her target was much higher though. When the older woman slipped the hooks of her bra loose Chantel felt her stomach drop as though she was on an elevator in free fall. Suddenly there wasn't enough air in the cubicle despite the fact that the door was still open.
"Turn back this way," miz Brown instructed. The thirteen year old kept her cotton top from falling completely off as she turned.
"This is very pretty too" the Head Mistress complimented as she took hold of the decorative shoulder straps.
Chantel was having such a flood of new feelings that her head was swimming. She had never been exposed like this since her boobies had started to grow almost two years ago—except for that time with her stepmother. At least she knew Roberta—sort of. The woman who was about to reveal her pubescent chest hardly qualified as an acquaintance yet.
She was familiar with nervous feelings in her tummy. The butterflies she got when she had a test at school or when she had to go to a dentist or doctor, but this wasn't like that. Part of her was feeling something very different, something she couldn't quite identify. Excitement,' she finally recognized. I think I have nice little titties. I wonder if Mistress Brown will think so too?' when she realized that she actually wanted to show the older woman her breasts it became much easier.
Millie had to suppress a gasp when the plump brown cones with their dark, almost black centers came into view. She'd stripped many teenagers just as she was doing now but there had only been two or three young women of color among them, so the smooth milk chocolate cupcakes with their semi sweet chocolate centers were a novelty. The Head Mistress's womanhood was now throbbing as she took hold of the lace around the girl's waist and began to lower the teenager's last garment. Millie had to pull the panties out at the back to get them over the developing derriere.
She's going to have a bubble butt,' the matron decided why is that so much more common among people with African blood than in Asians or Caucasians?' From her crouching position Millie got a close up view of the lightly haired mound as the white cotton folded out of the way. Suddenly she had way too much saliva and had to swallow a couple of times to keep from drooling. The crouching woman was going much slower than necessary to extend the time she was able to spend this close to the delectable chocolate bun. Black fuzz covered outer lips that didn't quite close giving miz Brown a tantalizing view of the crinkly dark inner folds. It looked a little like a fat pastrami sandwich on a dark rye bun.
Chantel watched her underpants sliding down past her knees. She could feel the Head Mistress's breath in her sparse pubic hair and it made her coochie tingle even more. She was recalling the afternoon her step mom brought the underwear home and made her try on every single one of the ten pairs of knickers even though they were all basically the same. She recalled how Roberta had run her hands over the cotton to make sure they fit right,' she'd said. Her father's gorgeous partner had run her fingers around the leg elastic to make sure it wasn't too tight. I was feeling so... so.... I don't know... by the time she finished, I humped mister Muggs for an hour before I could stand the feeling in my coochie. It was all so tingly and crampy.' She was beginning to get those feelings again and mister Muggs was over a hundred miles away.
Funny thing, the look on Roberta's face then and the look on miz Brown's face now were very similar.
I think she really likes looking at me down there,' the girl decided it makes me feel kinda special.'
She remembered how flustered her step mom had been when she left her room after the underwear fitting session. Roberta was normally so cool and collected, almost aloof. It was the only time the teen had ever seen her composure slip. The Head Mistress was looking a little bit like that now. Something new was stirring in her and it was a pleasant intoxicating feeling. It would be quite awhile before the perceptive youngster realized it was a feeling of power—dominance.
"Lift your foot honey," the crouching woman requested but her voice was different than before. It sounded sort of strained.
Chantel once again lifted one foot after the other to enable Millie to thread the panties over her feet. She heard a sound from the Head Mistress and she thought it was a grunt of exertion from crouching for so long, but it wasn't.
When her dark skinned plaything lifted her foot, the pulpy inner labia parted just enough to provide Millie with a glimpse of the hot pink interior. The contrast was so much more startling than with a white girl that the crouching woman could not suppress a groan. She knew her boss couldn't have seen the erotic display unless they'd had a camera embedded in the floor.
Why not?' she thought, we've got `em almost everywhere else.'
In the mansion, as her Head Mistress stood up holding the thirteen year olds underpants, Miranda shifted her hips forward in her chair and flipped the dressing gown out of the way. At first she just gently ran her finger tips over the protruding lips. Then she dipped two fingers in just far enough to collect some of the slippery juice from the interior, returning to her external caress with the benefit of lubrication. On the screen Mildred was turning on the water and adjusting the temperature. The naked teenager stood silently with her hands folded in front of her crotch.
"You're not going to wash your hair... are you?" the matron asked, offering a shower cap to the naked girl.
"No... uh... I washed it this morning," Chantel replied putting the plastic bonnet over and around her chin length hair.
When the girl was under the warm spray Millie snatched the opportunity to give her aching womanhood a firm squeeze followed by a series of light taps. The dizzy feeling that resulted made her sit on the little bench for the rest of the show. The white soap suds trickling off the smooth tight brown skin was spectacular.
The teenager had come to the realization that she was putting on a show. She didn't know she had an audience of more than one but it wouldn't have mattered. That unidentified feeling was getting stronger. She was continuing to see similarities between this situation and the clothes fitting session with Roberta. She remembered how her step mom had complimented her on her nipples, saying what a beautiful young woman she was becoming. Her father's partner seemed especially thrilled when her nips stuck way out like they did sometimes.
`I think miz Brown would like that too,' she reasoned. As she soaped her chest she was careful to give her boobs the stimulation needed to get the dark centers standing at full attention, sneaking a peak at the Head Mistress as she did so. The only problem was that it made the tingly achy feeling between her legs so much worse. There were two other pussies that were tingling and aching and only one was getting any relief.
Doctor Marcott's fingers now penetrated the outer barriers and stroked slowly and deliberately up and down her steaming crease working their way slowly toward the magic button with each successive stroke. Her left hand operated the camera zoom to zero in on the teenager playing with her breasts. When Chantel's thumbs bumped over her slippery taught pegs Miranda felt a sudden surge and knew she was a `goner'. Several rapid flicks over her pounding clit sent those marvelous waves of warmth and euphoria washing over her.
Mildred Brown knew this had to end soon. Grinding her hips against the hardness of the wooden bench was just not sufficient. She needed fingers on her cunt, in her cunt, and soon. The way the nymph was stroking herself in the shower was so provocative that the Head Mistress was convinced that the teenager had Sapphic experience or that she was actively trying to get it. Doctor Marcott was totally inflexible when I came to how new students were to be initiated. Deviating from the process would bring the wrath of God, but oh Lord she could almost feel that sweet little tongue on her aching clit right now.
"Chantel, I have something I need to attend to right now so I'm going to leave you for a while."
The girl in the shower turned as the matron spoke from the doorway to the shower cubicle. The strain on the older woman's face was quite evident `just like Roberta' she thought.
"When you're ready you can stay in your room or join Barbie down in the second floor common room. There's a TV and games and lots of books and magazines down there... you two can get to know each other." The last thought she expressed in her parting instructions sent a shiver down her spine. Picturing the color contrast of the blonde senior devouring the black freshman's pussy was a high impact visual. "I'll find you later," miz Brown assured her as she disappeared from the marble room.
The school's founder licked her own juices off her fingers as she saw her attractive administrator leave the room. The chocolate delicacy in the shower was rinsing off. When the girl began drying herself Miranda got up and went into her bathroom to freshen up. A new show would be starting momentarily in the Head Mistress's quarters and if she was lucky in the newest student's dorm room.
Deprived of her audience Chantel was disappointed. She wrapped the bath sheet around her, collected all her clothes and returned to her assigned room. Once inside she stowed her uniform back in the closet and tossed the other clothes on the desk. Flopping on the bed she stuffed the pillow between her legs and began to rock her hips. The reduction of the ache and the pleasant sensations started almost immediately. `I wish I had mister Muggs,' the girl lamented. The pillow was nice but her teddy had this firm little nose that she always thought was his best feature. Feelings of contentment rolled over her as she rocked and she found herself comparing the experience with her step mom to the one a few minutes ago with the Head Mistress. It was so soothing and relaxing she drifted off.
Doctor Marcott was disappointed that the brown skinned teenager didn't remove the towel when she started her adolescent sex play. After about a minute she decided the show was boring and switched to Millie Brown's bedroom cams. The school's administrator had not taken the time to undress. She lay on her bed with her skirt flipped up, legs spread wide, stuffing a large black dildo in her sopping snatch with her left hand while fingering her clit furiously with her right. The erotic spectacle sent a new series of pulses through the electronic voyeur's womanhood. Miranda decided not to diddle this time. She contented herself with reaching inside her robe and stroking her sensitive nipples while watching her subordinate shudder and shake in what appeared to be a pretty powerful orgasm.
Chantel snoozed only briefly. She woke from her cat nap feeling incomplete. It was the same when she hugged mister Muggs with her legs. It felt really nice but it was like something was missing. Reusing the underwear she'd arrived in she put her brand new uniform on for the first time. It didn't surprise her that it fit perfectly. Time to see what the second floor common room had to offer.
Next:
Chantel learns more about the Academy (among other things) from a real life Barbie.
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