Erotic writer, focusing on transgender chastity, spankings, and all-around hot sexy things. I do commissions, and I'm always looking for new writing prompts. Feel free to reach out.
Sitting in the front passenger seat of her father’s car, Emily adjusted the hem of her skirt, and picked off a tiny piece of lint. For the dozenth time she flipped down the sun visor to check her hair and makeup in the small mirror. She tried telling herself that she wasn’t nervous, but that simply wasn’t true. Certainly, she was more apprehensive and excited than nervous, but still, she couldn’t help but be nervous just the same.
All her life she had lived under her parents’ strict and watchful gaze; her every move scrutinized and every misstep swiftly and soundly corrected, almost always with her vulnerable bared bottom paying the price. Even at 19, her parents maintained a very firm and unwavering commitment to corporal punishment, and she had long abandoned any hope of changing that. Attending the famous Rattangrove Academy held so many possibilities for freedom for her, despite its fearsome reputation for strictness.
Rattangrove Academy had a reputation as a very old fashioned school and was famously of a “spare the rod, spoil the student” philosophy, but to Emily it was the gateway to a level of freedom she couldn’t have dreamed of having at home. Thinking of her parents and their strict adherence to their inflexible moral code drew her eyes down to the shiny silver key that hung on a slim necklace around her neck; the metal cool against the skin between her breasts. It was the key to the steel chastity cage that she had worn for almost as long as she could remember, and a totem of her position in society. Very seldom removed for anything apart from hygiene, and even then only for very brief periods, it meant that while Emily certainly wasn’t a blushing virgin, at least as a bottom, the small and incredibly sensitive little organ inside the cage had never known any pleasure apart from the very infrequent touch of Emily’s own hand.
She wasn’t normally entrusted with the key like this, and she knew that Rattangrove would have a new cage waiting for her when she arrived, but for orientation they had wanted the key around her neck, an easy way to tell the locked girls from the free ones. With her father sitting mere inches from her, there was absolutely zero chance of getting any pleasure on the sly, and while the school would almost certainly be watchful for any girls trying to cheat their chastity she held out a bright spark of hope that she might be able to sneak into an unattended restroom for a few moments of illicit pleasure. It had been a few months since she had been allowed anything like that at all
For girls like Emily, the world held one of two possibilities: At age 18, a girl’s parents or guardians would decide for her whether she would be Free or Locked. Free girls generally came from more modern, forward-looking, progressive households. Most of these girls wouldn’t have ever known the tight steel embrace of a chastity cage around their most intimate parts, apart from short periods as a punishment perhaps. They would go out into the world at 18, with every opportunity available to them, just as it would be for anyone else. With Rattangrove’s reputation for hard rules and strict punishments, Emily doubted there would be very many free girls among the student body. It wasn’t really that sort of school.
For the rest of the trans girls, Emily herself included, that meant being registered as Locked and a lifetime of effectively permanent chastity. Emily had no illusions or hopes of her parents spontaneously deciding to free her at age 18. They had been very clear from the start that she would be a Locked girl for life; her cage removed intermittently at best. She would move from her parents holding her key to a Master or Mistress who would keep her on a tight, strictly supervised chastity regimen, just as she had been at home. Locked girls, the traditional narrative went, couldn’t help themselves otherwise; they were naturally submissive and were happiest in a life of indentured servitude than they were anywhere else.
It was a very old system, one that was strongly slanted in favour of the Master or Mistress: Most treated both the key and the girl attached as investments: ones that earned interest. A girl could take her full wages in cash, but the price of her key would rise over time, and her chance of ever getting it back would approach zero after a decade at most. The other option was to accept The Collar Service: She would get room and board, clothing and all the basic necessities provided, but 95% of her wages would go towards paying off her key price, and it was the work of decades to earn it back.
Locked girls generally had their key sold off after they came of age, sometimes at auction, more often to a trusted family friend whom their parents expected would treat them well. Going for anywhere between $325,000 up to $500,000 the girl would follow her key to whoever bought it; serving as their maid, or nanny, or concubine potentially for the rest of her life. It wasn’t slavery – the girls were paid, if not particularly well, but it was a large debt to pay off. It wasn’t unheard of for a girl to pay off her key price, but it was far more common for her to eventually give in and start taking her wages in cash, discouraged by a debt that could take 25 or 30 years at least to pay off.
Rattangrove offered her a better hope: Emily had just barely earned the grades she needed for the scholarship, but her parents had been incredibly supportive of her attending. Girls attending or who had graduated from a college couldn’t have their key sold without their permission, so she was safe for as long as she stayed in school. Better yet, once she graduated the government would purchase their key from her parents for a flat $250,000 and hold it interest-free for up to 20 years while she worked to pay it off.
Beyond that, she was free to negotiate her own employment contracts – she could take a normal job just like anyone else, and pay off her key like any other loan. It would take years, but compared to even the most generous indenturement it would take less than half the time. Even better, once she graduated, this program meant one guaranteed cage-off orgasm per month, plus one extra for her birthday and Christmas. With her poor testes backed up with nearly 5 months of very urgent cum as she sat next to her father in the car that seemed like an incredible luxury. What really made Emily’s eyes sparkle at the thought was that after 5 years in the program she was even allowed to bring a date to “help” with her monthly releases.
She closed her eyes and imagined having the cage off, letting her fingers glide over her skin, so incredibly sensitive from a lifetime of denial. She imagined the sensation of having a lover gently touch her for the first time; teasing her to firmness, not worried about her admittedly rather petite size, stroking her… she felt the cage tighten as her shaft tried to harden in its little steel prison. Emily bit her lip and opened her eyes, trying to clear her mind.
It would be absolutely mortifying to have her father look over and see her having a “private moment” like this. Blushing furiously, she turned to the window and tried to focus on the scenery flashing by outside the car’s window.
In time, the ivy-covered brick walls of Rattangrove Academy appeared on the horizon, and her father looked over at her with a proud smile. He didn’t say anything, but he reached over and squeezed Emily’s knee in a warm, paternal manner. She smiled back at him. He was a strict man, and Rattangrove was certainly an exciting new world, but she was going to miss him very much. Suddenly, for all her excitement, she realized that she was going to be homesick, and how much she was going to miss both her parents.
Emily’s father slowly navigated the congested cobblestone lane that lead onto the campus, every inch seemingly clogged with proud parents dropping off nervous daughters for their first day of school. Finally spying a spot to pull over, he swung the car in against the curb, parking behind a long, black, and extremely expensive looking sedan.
Emily got out of the car and gave her dad a long hug goodbye. The school didn’t allow much for outside belongings, so apart from her phone, her laptop, some charging cords, a couple of books, and her toiletries, she would have no other comforts from home. She could see the proud tears in her father’s eyes as she gave him one last wave goodbye and walked up the stairs into the school. With one last deep breath she crossed the threshold and into the school.
Aurora sulked in the back of her father’s car. This school was a dump. Her lip curled into a derisive sneer as she watched a dark haired girl with braces stand almost in awe of the ugly, dumpy brick building. How could she have ended up here? None of her friends were going to attend Rattangrove, they had reasonable parents, and were all off to more fashionable schools, where they could have a car, and wear their own clothes, and have a life. I mean her grades hadn’t been perfect, but 54% was still a pass. She probably shouldn’t have gotten expelled from her first high school either, but that probably happened to a lot of girls.
There were always so many stupid rules, but to Aurora’s mind rules were for the Locked girls, not Free girls like herself. Well… formerly free. As she climbed out of the car she could feel the metal ring of the cage chafe against her skin. She couldn’t believe that her father had registered her as Locked. She hadn’t worn the cage growing up. That was for… other people, the sort of girls that Aurora had ruthlessly bullied in the locker room. Definitely not her. Her family definitely didn’t need the money from selling her, so she had never really considered that this could happen. She slammed the door without saying goodbye and stamped up the steps to the school, still fuming.
The school had insisted that since she was registered as Locked that she arrive caged with the key around her neck like all the other locked girls. She saw the way other girls without keys around their necks looked at her. She knew what they were thinking: just another pathetic subservient girl just waiting for someone to come along and collar her. She pushed down her anger and frustration and forced herself to meet their eyes. She wasn’t going to look away, cage or no cage - after all, she had a plan.
She had been forced to sell a little bit of jewelry… and her virtue… a few times… but she had managed to put together a tidy cash bribe, buried way down at the bottom of her backpack. From the looks of this place they probably didn’t pay well. Certainly a few thousand dollars in the right hands would ensure that this whole “Locked” business was all just a silly misunderstanding and she could go back to the way things ought to be. She was rich, beautiful, and this silly little mistake would all be sorted out shortly. Failing that, she could just suck off whoever was in charge; that usually worked.
She stopped at the threshold of the school, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her father had 5 years to change his mind. She could be re-registered as Free right up until her 24th birthday. All she had to do was graduate from Rattangrove with something close to a respectable GPA, and she could go back to the life she knew. Her father had promised her that much. This was just a rather unpleasant stop on the road to somewhere better. She would flirt and bribe her way to the closest thing this wretched place had to a luxury flat, keep her head down, write a few tests, get her stupid piece of paper to satisfy her father, and put this whole nightmare behind her.
Aurora stepped through the well-worn oak doors of the academy, from the sun into the dimmer confines of the Great Hall. Aurora had to admit that even she was impressed. Compared to the dowdy and uninspiring exterior of the school, the Great Hall was both beautiful and imposing. Centuries old carved oak walls were bathed in the warm, multifaceted light that shone through mullioned stained glass windows. The floor was pale marble, and everything from the water fountains to the doorknobs were heavy and well-worn brass. The effect was more like a cathedral than a school, and she begrudgingly admitted to herself that she might have misjudged Rattangrove just a little. Her reverie was broken by a rumbling but very polite voice.
“Your bag, miss…”
Aurora spun on her heel, surprised, and found herself facing the largest human being she had ever seen. He wasn’t fat… exactly; he certainly wasn’t thin, but he was just… huge. He positively towered over her, his upper arms far larger than her thighs, and while he certainly was carrying some extra weight, every movement he made showed the immense strength hiding just beneath the surface. “A mountain of a man” had seemed and incredibly trite description to her up to this point, but she couldn’t think of a more fitting term for him. He was an incredibly imposing figure, and the security badge he wore seemed like a tiny child’s plaything when pinned to his continental chest.
With a single thick finger he pointed at the sign hung on the wall just to her left. “No Outside Goods Past This Point.”
“I’m so sorry, but you can’t bring your backpack in with you. You’ll have to leave it with me to be searched, and assuming everything is in order, we will send it to your room once you’re assigned one.”
The guard leaned down, hand outstretched to take her backpack. His face was earnest and kind, but there was no doubt whatsoever that he was in control.
“But… I…” Fuck. What was she going to say? “I have eight thousand dollars in the bottom of that backpack to bribe my way out of this cage?” Yeah. That’d go well. Her mouth went dry.
“Ummm…”
The guard pulled a small tag and a marker out of the breast pocket of his shirt, not noticing her hesitation. The pen looked laughably small in his hands, but he didn’t struggle with it at all. He held his hand out for her bag, and without any ready excuse for why should be allowed to keep it, Aurora handed the bag over without a fight. What point would there be for her to try to struggle with this Herculean security guard who weighed at least four times what she did? Meekly, she handed it over.
“What was the name, miss?” The guard was so earnest and helpful. He seemed totally unaware the effect he had on people. He was incredibly intimidating without having to do anything apart from exist.
“Erm… Aurora? Aurora Idris.”
The guard wrote her name down on the tag, and attached it to her backpack.
“You’ll be assigned a room after orientation. That’s in the building across the central plaza unless…” his eyes fell on the small key between her breasts. To her shock, the guard blushed and looked away.
“Er… In that case…” He swallowed hard, and Adam’s apple nearly the size of an actual apple moving under the skin of his throat. “It’s the two story brick building on the left side of the plaza. Right next to the bike racks… Er… but you don’t have to check in right away, there’s lots of clubs to sign up for, and food, and there’s a DJ later…”
Aurora sighed. He was cute being this flustered, and honestly if he was as big where it counted as the rest of him she was intrigued, but this was wearing on her patience. Being reminded of her… situation was the last thing she needed right now. She thanked the guard and followed the crowd of girls through the hall and out onto the immaculate lawn of the main plaza.
Emily had already handed over her backpack to the easily flustered guard, and she was standing just outside the rear doors of the Great Hall looking out onto the plaza. Dozens of tents and tables were spread out across the cobblestone square, and spilled over onto the manicured lawns. Bright posters and banners advertised the Rock Climbing Club, the Chess Club, the Badminton Team and well more than a dozen others. There were booths handing out samples of food from cafes down in the village, as well as jugglers, unicyclists, and comedy troupes from the arts programs at the school. It was an explosion of noise and colour and culture, and Emily was drawn straight into the heart of it. She was handed a latte at nearly the first booth and she sipped it as she wandered from booth to booth.
How could there be so many clubs? How was there a *surfing* club? There wasn’t an ocean for hundreds of miles in any direction. Was there really a falconry club? Where did they get the birds? She did stop to pick up a tryout flyer for the soccer team, her scholarship required her to participate in at least one sport or activity, and if she preferred the soccer team to any other choice. She checked her phone: 11:15. The last check-in for orientation was at 3:00 so he had some time to wander around.
She walked from booth to booth, making new acquaintances and picking up free samples. From her preparations with her father she knew that “orientation” for the Locked girls wasn’t a particularly pleasant experience, and she wasn’t going to let it ruin her excitement for now. So she delayed, and wandered, and played a little pickup soccer, and got another latte. As she was walking away from the Darts Club tent, her phone chimed. “How Was Orientation?” read the text from her father. SHIT! It was 2:52. She could still make it!
Emily tossed most of the flyers into the recycling bin and sprinted for the building that she had been told to report to. Taking the steps two at a time she flew up the stairs and into the building. The line was short, with only a couple of girls in line. Emily’s shoulders sagged in relief, and she jogged to the end of the line, behind a slightly taller girl with strawberry blonde hair. She was wearing a leather skirt with cut up tights and a denim jacket covered in patches for what Emily assumed were bands. Either that or this girl was really into the general concept of “Tower of Bleeding Skulls”. Hearing her approach, still panting a little from her sprint, the girl looked Emily up and down with contempt, her blue/green eyes flashing. Apparently considering her not worth greeting she turned back to face the front of the line.
Great…. Aurora thought. The little brunette from earlier. She must be so excited to be here! I bet she owns nine books on horses and wants to be a veterinarian so she can pet all the pretty animals… She was sour. The food had actually been pretty good, but she didn’t feel like any of the clubs were for her. She didn’t like rock climbing or foreign films, or slam poetry. She hated this place already and she just wanted to get this over with so she could just go to her dorm room in peace.
“Next” the matronly receptionist motioned her forward. Aurora stepped towards the desk, looking down at the plump woman as she tidied the paperwork on her desk, seemingly eager to go home.
“Now dearie, I’ve only got a couple of girls left that I’m expecting. What’s your name?”
“Idris. Aurora Idris” Aurora answered.
“Ah yes. I’ve got you down right here and… Oh!” The woman adjusted her glasses, and flipped back and forth between pages.
“Er… Young lady…” she was looking past Aurora, to the dark haired girl behind her. “Is it Miss Black?”
“Um... Yes, Miss. Emily Black.” The girl said, hesitantly. “I’m sorry I was a little late…”
The receptionist didn’t answer. She picked up the phone and dialled an extension.
“Yes Headmaster. They’re here. Both of them. All right, I’ll just get the paperwork started.”
She gently replaced the phone in its cradle, and stood up.
“I’m sure your parents told you, but for our locked students, orientation does take a little longer.”
She smiled in a way that was almost sympathetic, but still looked a little menacing.
“The Headmaster himself will be overseeing part of your orientation, and we mustn’t keep him waiting. Oh no, that wouldn’t do at all…” She tutted to herself as she led the pair of girls down a brightly lit hallway lined with doors on either side.
She stopped at last at a door that seemed to Emily to be identical to every other door in the hall, opened the door, and motioned the pair of them inside. The room itself resembled a doctor’s office more than anything else, with a trio of examination tables along one side, and a stainless steel-topped work area along the other. Glass-fronted cabinets held an array of small steel cages that looked unfortunately familiar to both girls. The receptionist took a pair of thick plastic bags from a dispenser next to the door and handed one to each girl.
“You can get undressed. Everything except your keys can go in the bags. Your clothes will be laundered and returned to you at Christmas Break. The Headmaster will be along in a moment.” She cast a knowing look at both girls, a small wry smile spreading across her face;
“There most certainly isn’t enough time for any of that.” She warned, looking pointedly from the key each girl wore around their necks, then down below their waist. “Not that you’d be the first to try.”
Confident that they had gotten the point, she gave them a curt nod, and left the room, her footsteps growing quieter as she returned down the hallway to her desk.
Emily was a little speechless. She had expected her clothes to be confiscated, but she had assumed that it would be private. Having to strip down to her cage in front of a complete stranger was more than a little uncomfortable. This wasn’t at all how she had pictured today going, and she bitterly scolded herself for leaving this to the last minute. She looked at Aurora, who sniffed dismissively at her, and then began undressing. Hearing footsteps returning down the hallway, Emily began undressing as well. She was still sliding off her panties when the door opened.
Through it walked a man Emily immediately assumed to be the Headmaster. Tall, slim, incredibly well-groomed and impeccably, if conservatively dressed. Not a single silver hair on his head was out of place, and his pale grey eyes looked her over from head to toe, but without lingering on her bared breasts or her cage. He seemed in total control of himself and the situation. He had a presence, a gravitas that Emily, so very used to authority figures, felt immediately. He reached the centre of the room and folded his arms behind his back.
“Ms. Black, Ms. Idris. Welcome to Rattangrove Academy. I am the Headmaster of this school. You may call me Sir, or Headmaster, either is perfectly acceptable. I am so glad that you have finally…” his eyes flicked towards the clock on the wall “Decided to join us on this exciting day. You will be joining the rest of the students shortly, but there are some matters we need to take care of first.”
The Headmaster smiled, confidently. He seemed very aware of the effect he had on nervous young women. “No need to delay, girls. Up on the examining tables with you, I will take your keys in a moment.” When neither girl moved he tapped the toe of his shoe loudly against the hard tile floor. “This isn’t the part of the orientation where I test out the paddles on you, but if you don’t get moving it most definitely will be.”
Aurora hopped up on the examining table. “The part of the orientation where WHAT?!?” She knew Rattangrove still used corporal punishment, but she still held on to the belief that it wouldn’t really happen to her. She was going to be SPANKED, like a CHILD!? She wanted to say something. To throw something. This wasn’t supposed to be happening to her. Sure, it should be happening to that doe-eyed little brunette over there – she would look just about right getting her pale little ass whipped red over the old man’s lap. But… this wasn’t the way it was supposed to have gone at all… not for her.
As the girls waited silently, the Headmaster quietly busied himself over at the work station, arranging items on a small aluminum surgical tray. He seemed in no hurry for someone who had just scolded them for being late, and Emily tried to make herself comfortable on the hard metal table. Oddly, she didn’t feel uncomfortable being nude in the Headmaster’s presence. He seemed… above simple crude sexual urges somehow. After a moment, he returned, approaching Emily’s examining table first.
The Headmaster placed the surgical tray on the table next to Emily, and with a small encouraging smile, he motioned for her to take the key from around her neck. Emily unclasped the thin chain that suspended the key between her breasts and passed it to the Headmaster.
“Thighs apart please, Ms. Black.” It was an order not a request, no matter how gently and politely he said it, and Emily complied, leaning back on the table to give him access to her cage. Her parents hadn’t thought that allowing her to wear the “Good Girl Cage” with the delicious gaps between the bars where her fingers could touch a tiny bit of skin sent the right message for a school like Rattangrove. So she was in the far more restrictive of her two cages; a fully enclosed pink steel tube with a small hole on the end to allow her to urinate. The Headmaster inserted the key into the locking pin, and with a twist, Emily was unlocked for the first time in months.
She gave an involuntary twitch and mewl of pleasure as the Headmaster slid the tube of the cage off of her. The sensation of the cool slick metal sliding against her extremely sensitive organ was more than she had felt in a very long time. Gently he removed the ring as well placing both tube and ring on the surgical tray, leaving Emily truly naked and feeling oddly exposed in a way she hadn’t with the cage still on. Next, the Headmaster picked up a small silver device, like a miniature blowtorch, from the surgical tray.
“This is an infrasonic epilator. It is completely painless, and it will ensure that you do not require the cage to be removed for shaving during your time here. Assuming you do not receive another treatment before then, hair growth should start again in approximately eight months.”
The Headmaster turned a dial on the epilator, and although there was no flame, Emily could see the air where a flame ought to be glow faintly blue. Emily had always kept things fairly… tidy… down there. It made wearing a cage much more comfortable, plus she thought it looked cute. She didn’t have a lot of hair to lose, but as the epilator passed over her skin, it’s “touch” like a chilly cloud of static electricity, she watched as the hairs shriveled from the root upwards, then dropped away. The Headmaster was slow and thorough, removing every trace of hair, before brushing her clean with a small shaving brush.
Satisfied that she was entirely hairless, he picked up a small tube of clear gel and rubbed a generous amount into his hands. Firmly, and without any hint of getting any pleasure from it himself, he applied the surprisingly warm gel all over Emily’s recently freed parts. Emily bit the inside of her cheek at the sensation, intensely pleasant after so long denied, but she also knew that she would be utterly mortified if she started getting hard. The gel started warm and finished tingly, smelling strongly of antiseptic and alcohol.
“The gel won’t keep things clean for very long.” The Headmaster said, “But at least we know you’re starting off your time here clean and sanitized.”
Finally, the Headmaster picked up her new cage from the tray. It was a pure white, and if anything it looked even smaller than her old one. She knew it had been custom made to her exact measurements, the result of a rather awkward fitting session with a nurse a few weeks prior. She looked down at herself, seeing herself without the cage was always a little surreal – ad she had no idea when she might be unlocked again. She quietly willed the phone hanging on the wall to ring, so that she might sneak a quick touch while the Headmaster was distracted, but it remained frustratingly silent.
The Headmaster slid the ring over her testes, and then over the shaft, expertly manipulating the skin so that the cage didn’t tug or bind. Emily wondered exactly how many times he’d done this to know how to get a comfortable fit so quickly. She herself struggled with it on the extremely rare occasions she had actually been allowed to take the whole cage off. The tube was next, and as the titanium locking pin sealed both sides together with barely a visible seam. The Headmaster exhaled quietly with the satisfaction of a job well done. Emily got the feeling that seeing her unlocked, even for such a brief time, had made the Headmaster somewhat uncomfortable.
“You may relax Ms. Black. We will begin the next part of your orientation once Ms. Idris has been fitted.”
He slipped Emily’s key into the hip pocket of his slacks, and picked up the surgical tray. Now it was Aurora’s turn.
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The Arrival Pt. 1
Sitting in the front passenger seat of her father’s car, Emily adjusted the hem of her skirt, and picked off a tiny piece of lint. For the dozenth time she flipped down the sun visor to check her hair and makeup in the small mirror. She tried telling herself that she wasn’t nervous, but that simply wasn’t true. Certainly, she was more apprehensive and excited than nervous, but still, she couldn’t help but be nervous just the same.
All her life she had lived under her parents’ strict and watchful gaze; her every move scrutinized and every misstep swiftly and soundly corrected, almost always with her vulnerable bared bottom paying the price. Even at 19, her parents maintained a very firm and unwavering commitment to corporal punishment, and she had long abandoned any hope of changing that. Attending the famous Rattangrove Academy held so many possibilities for freedom for her, despite its fearsome reputation for strictness.
Rattangrove Academy had a reputation as a very old fashioned school and was famously of a “spare the rod, spoil the student” philosophy, but to Emily it was the gateway to a level of freedom she couldn’t have dreamed of having at home. Thinking of her parents and their strict adherence to their inflexible moral code drew her eyes down to the shiny silver key that hung on a slim necklace around her neck; the metal cool against the skin between her breasts. It was the key to the steel chastity cage that she had worn for almost as long as she could remember, and a totem of her position in society. Very seldom removed for anything apart from hygiene, and even then only for very brief periods, it meant that while Emily certainly wasn’t a blushing virgin, at least as a bottom, the small and incredibly sensitive little organ inside the cage had never known any pleasure apart from the very infrequent touch of Emily’s own hand.
She wasn’t normally entrusted with the key like this, and she knew that Rattangrove would have a new cage waiting for her when she arrived, but for orientation they had wanted the key around her neck, an easy way to tell the locked girls from the free ones. With her father sitting mere inches from her, there was absolutely zero chance of getting any pleasure on the sly, and while the school would almost certainly be watchful for any girls trying to cheat their chastity she held out a bright spark of hope that she might be able to sneak into an unattended restroom for a few moments of illicit pleasure. It had been a few months since she had been allowed anything like that at all
For girls like Emily, the world held one of two possibilities: At age 18, a girl’s parents or guardians would decide for her whether she would be Free or Locked. Free girls generally came from more modern, forward-looking, progressive households. Most of these girls wouldn’t have ever known the tight steel embrace of a chastity cage around their most intimate parts, apart from short periods as a punishment perhaps. They would go out into the world at 18, with every opportunity available to them, just as it would be for anyone else. With Rattangrove’s reputation for hard rules and strict punishments, Emily doubted there would be very many free girls among the student body. It wasn’t really that sort of school.
For the rest of the trans girls, Emily herself included, that meant being registered as Locked and a lifetime of effectively permanent chastity. Emily had no illusions or hopes of her parents spontaneously deciding to free her at age 18. They had been very clear from the start that she would be a Locked girl for life; her cage removed intermittently at best. She would move from her parents holding her key to a Master or Mistress who would keep her on a tight, strictly supervised chastity regimen, just as she had been at home. Locked girls, the traditional narrative went, couldn’t help themselves otherwise; they were naturally submissive and were happiest in a life of indentured servitude than they were anywhere else.
It was a very old system, one that was strongly slanted in favour of the Master or Mistress: Most treated both the key and the girl attached as investments: ones that earned interest. A girl could take her full wages in cash, but the price of her key would rise over time, and her chance of ever getting it back would approach zero after a decade at most. The other option was to accept The Collar Service: She would get room and board, clothing and all the basic necessities provided, but 95% of her wages would go towards paying off her key price, and it was the work of decades to earn it back.
Locked girls generally had their key sold off after they came of age, sometimes at auction, more often to a trusted family friend whom their parents expected would treat them well. Going for anywhere between $325,000 up to $500,000 the girl would follow her key to whoever bought it; serving as their maid, or nanny, or concubine potentially for the rest of her life. It wasn’t slavery – the girls were paid, if not particularly well, but it was a large debt to pay off. It wasn’t unheard of for a girl to pay off her key price, but it was far more common for her to eventually give in and start taking her wages in cash, discouraged by a debt that could take 25 or 30 years at least to pay off.
Rattangrove offered her a better hope: Emily had just barely earned the grades she needed for the scholarship, but her parents had been incredibly supportive of her attending. Girls attending or who had graduated from a college couldn’t have their key sold without their permission, so she was safe for as long as she stayed in school. Better yet, once she graduated the government would purchase their key from her parents for a flat $250,000 and hold it interest-free for up to 20 years while she worked to pay it off.
Beyond that, she was free to negotiate her own employment contracts – she could take a normal job just like anyone else, and pay off her key like any other loan. It would take years, but compared to even the most generous indenturement it would take less than half the time. Even better, once she graduated, this program meant one guaranteed cage-off orgasm per month, plus one extra for her birthday and Christmas. With her poor testes backed up with nearly 5 months of very urgent cum as she sat next to her father in the car that seemed like an incredible luxury. What really made Emily’s eyes sparkle at the thought was that after 5 years in the program she was even allowed to bring a date to “help” with her monthly releases.
She closed her eyes and imagined having the cage off, letting her fingers glide over her skin, so incredibly sensitive from a lifetime of denial. She imagined the sensation of having a lover gently touch her for the first time; teasing her to firmness, not worried about her admittedly rather petite size, stroking her… she felt the cage tighten as her shaft tried to harden in its little steel prison. Emily bit her lip and opened her eyes, trying to clear her mind.
It would be absolutely mortifying to have her father look over and see her having a “private moment” like this. Blushing furiously, she turned to the window and tried to focus on the scenery flashing by outside the car’s window.
In time, the ivy-covered brick walls of Rattangrove Academy appeared on the horizon, and her father looked over at her with a proud smile. He didn’t say anything, but he reached over and squeezed Emily’s knee in a warm, paternal manner. She smiled back at him. He was a strict man, and Rattangrove was certainly an exciting new world, but she was going to miss him very much. Suddenly, for all her excitement, she realized that she was going to be homesick, and how much she was going to miss both her parents.
Emily’s father slowly navigated the congested cobblestone lane that lead onto the campus, every inch seemingly clogged with proud parents dropping off nervous daughters for their first day of school. Finally spying a spot to pull over, he swung the car in against the curb, parking behind a long, black, and extremely expensive looking sedan.
Emily got out of the car and gave her dad a long hug goodbye. The school didn’t allow much for outside belongings, so apart from her phone, her laptop, some charging cords, a couple of books, and her toiletries, she would have no other comforts from home. She could see the proud tears in her father’s eyes as she gave him one last wave goodbye and walked up the stairs into the school. With one last deep breath she crossed the threshold and into the school.
Aurora sulked in the back of her father’s car. This school was a dump. Her lip curled into a derisive sneer as she watched a dark haired girl with braces stand almost in awe of the ugly, dumpy brick building. How could she have ended up here? None of her friends were going to attend Rattangrove, they had reasonable parents, and were all off to more fashionable schools, where they could have a car, and wear their own clothes, and have a life. I mean her grades hadn’t been perfect, but 54% was still a pass. She probably shouldn’t have gotten expelled from her first high school either, but that probably happened to a lot of girls.
There were always so many stupid rules, but to Aurora’s mind rules were for the Locked girls, not Free girls like herself. Well… formerly free. As she climbed out of the car she could feel the metal ring of the cage chafe against her skin. She couldn’t believe that her father had registered her as Locked. She hadn’t worn the cage growing up. That was for… other people, the sort of girls that Aurora had ruthlessly bullied in the locker room. Definitely not her. Her family definitely didn’t need the money from selling her, so she had never really considered that this could happen. She slammed the door without saying goodbye and stamped up the steps to the school, still fuming.
The school had insisted that since she was registered as Locked that she arrive caged with the key around her neck like all the other locked girls. She saw the way other girls without keys around their necks looked at her. She knew what they were thinking: just another pathetic subservient girl just waiting for someone to come along and collar her. She pushed down her anger and frustration and forced herself to meet their eyes. She wasn’t going to look away, cage or no cage - after all, she had a plan.
She had been forced to sell a little bit of jewelry… and her virtue… a few times… but she had managed to put together a tidy cash bribe, buried way down at the bottom of her backpack. From the looks of this place they probably didn’t pay well. Certainly a few thousand dollars in the right hands would ensure that this whole “Locked” business was all just a silly misunderstanding and she could go back to the way things ought to be. She was rich, beautiful, and this silly little mistake would all be sorted out shortly. Failing that, she could just suck off whoever was in charge; that usually worked.
She stopped at the threshold of the school, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her father had 5 years to change his mind. She could be re-registered as Free right up until her 24th birthday. All she had to do was graduate from Rattangrove with something close to a respectable GPA, and she could go back to the life she knew. Her father had promised her that much. This was just a rather unpleasant stop on the road to somewhere better. She would flirt and bribe her way to the closest thing this wretched place had to a luxury flat, keep her head down, write a few tests, get her stupid piece of paper to satisfy her father, and put this whole nightmare behind her.
Aurora stepped through the well-worn oak doors of the academy, from the sun into the dimmer confines of the Great Hall. Aurora had to admit that even she was impressed. Compared to the dowdy and uninspiring exterior of the school, the Great Hall was both beautiful and imposing. Centuries old carved oak walls were bathed in the warm, multifaceted light that shone through mullioned stained glass windows. The floor was pale marble, and everything from the water fountains to the doorknobs were heavy and well-worn brass. The effect was more like a cathedral than a school, and she begrudgingly admitted to herself that she might have misjudged Rattangrove just a little. Her reverie was broken by a rumbling but very polite voice.
“Your bag, miss…”
Aurora spun on her heel, surprised, and found herself facing the largest human being she had ever seen. He wasn’t fat… exactly; he certainly wasn’t thin, but he was just… huge. He positively towered over her, his upper arms far larger than her thighs, and while he certainly was carrying some extra weight, every movement he made showed the immense strength hiding just beneath the surface. “A mountain of a man” had seemed and incredibly trite description to her up to this point, but she couldn’t think of a more fitting term for him. He was an incredibly imposing figure, and the security badge he wore seemed like a tiny child’s plaything when pinned to his continental chest.
With a single thick finger he pointed at the sign hung on the wall just to her left. “No Outside Goods Past This Point.”
“I’m so sorry, but you can’t bring your backpack in with you. You’ll have to leave it with me to be searched, and assuming everything is in order, we will send it to your room once you’re assigned one.”
The guard leaned down, hand outstretched to take her backpack. His face was earnest and kind, but there was no doubt whatsoever that he was in control.
“But… I…” Fuck. What was she going to say? “I have eight thousand dollars in the bottom of that backpack to bribe my way out of this cage?” Yeah. That’d go well. Her mouth went dry.
“Ummm…”
The guard pulled a small tag and a marker out of the breast pocket of his shirt, not noticing her hesitation. The pen looked laughably small in his hands, but he didn’t struggle with it at all. He held his hand out for her bag, and without any ready excuse for why should be allowed to keep it, Aurora handed the bag over without a fight. What point would there be for her to try to struggle with this Herculean security guard who weighed at least four times what she did? Meekly, she handed it over.
“What was the name, miss?” The guard was so earnest and helpful. He seemed totally unaware the effect he had on people. He was incredibly intimidating without having to do anything apart from exist.
“Erm… Aurora? Aurora Idris.”
The guard wrote her name down on the tag, and attached it to her backpack.
“You’ll be assigned a room after orientation. That’s in the building across the central plaza unless…” his eyes fell on the small key between her breasts. To her shock, the guard blushed and looked away.
“Er… In that case…” He swallowed hard, and Adam’s apple nearly the size of an actual apple moving under the skin of his throat. “It’s the two story brick building on the left side of the plaza. Right next to the bike racks… Er… but you don’t have to check in right away, there’s lots of clubs to sign up for, and food, and there’s a DJ later…”
Aurora sighed. He was cute being this flustered, and honestly if he was as big where it counted as the rest of him she was intrigued, but this was wearing on her patience. Being reminded of her… situation was the last thing she needed right now. She thanked the guard and followed the crowd of girls through the hall and out onto the immaculate lawn of the main plaza.
Emily had already handed over her backpack to the easily flustered guard, and she was standing just outside the rear doors of the Great Hall looking out onto the plaza. Dozens of tents and tables were spread out across the cobblestone square, and spilled over onto the manicured lawns. Bright posters and banners advertised the Rock Climbing Club, the Chess Club, the Badminton Team and well more than a dozen others. There were booths handing out samples of food from cafes down in the village, as well as jugglers, unicyclists, and comedy troupes from the arts programs at the school. It was an explosion of noise and colour and culture, and Emily was drawn straight into the heart of it. She was handed a latte at nearly the first booth and she sipped it as she wandered from booth to booth.
How could there be so many clubs? How was there a *surfing* club? There wasn’t an ocean for hundreds of miles in any direction. Was there really a falconry club? Where did they get the birds? She did stop to pick up a tryout flyer for the soccer team, her scholarship required her to participate in at least one sport or activity, and if she preferred the soccer team to any other choice. She checked her phone: 11:15. The last check-in for orientation was at 3:00 so he had some time to wander around.
She walked from booth to booth, making new acquaintances and picking up free samples. From her preparations with her father she knew that “orientation” for the Locked girls wasn’t a particularly pleasant experience, and she wasn’t going to let it ruin her excitement for now. So she delayed, and wandered, and played a little pickup soccer, and got another latte. As she was walking away from the Darts Club tent, her phone chimed. “How Was Orientation?” read the text from her father. SHIT! It was 2:52. She could still make it!
Emily tossed most of the flyers into the recycling bin and sprinted for the building that she had been told to report to. Taking the steps two at a time she flew up the stairs and into the building. The line was short, with only a couple of girls in line. Emily’s shoulders sagged in relief, and she jogged to the end of the line, behind a slightly taller girl with strawberry blonde hair. She was wearing a leather skirt with cut up tights and a denim jacket covered in patches for what Emily assumed were bands. Either that or this girl was really into the general concept of “Tower of Bleeding Skulls”. Hearing her approach, still panting a little from her sprint, the girl looked Emily up and down with contempt, her blue/green eyes flashing. Apparently considering her not worth greeting she turned back to face the front of the line.
Great…. Aurora thought. The little brunette from earlier. She must be so excited to be here! I bet she owns nine books on horses and wants to be a veterinarian so she can pet all the pretty animals… She was sour. The food had actually been pretty good, but she didn’t feel like any of the clubs were for her. She didn’t like rock climbing or foreign films, or slam poetry. She hated this place already and she just wanted to get this over with so she could just go to her dorm room in peace.
“Next” the matronly receptionist motioned her forward. Aurora stepped towards the desk, looking down at the plump woman as she tidied the paperwork on her desk, seemingly eager to go home.
“Now dearie, I’ve only got a couple of girls left that I’m expecting. What’s your name?”
“Idris. Aurora Idris” Aurora answered.
“Ah yes. I’ve got you down right here and… Oh!” The woman adjusted her glasses, and flipped back and forth between pages.
“Er… Young lady…” she was looking past Aurora, to the dark haired girl behind her. “Is it Miss Black?”
“Um... Yes, Miss. Emily Black.” The girl said, hesitantly. “I’m sorry I was a little late…”
The receptionist didn’t answer. She picked up the phone and dialled an extension.
“Yes Headmaster. They’re here. Both of them. All right, I’ll just get the paperwork started.”
She gently replaced the phone in its cradle, and stood up.
“I’m sure your parents told you, but for our locked students, orientation does take a little longer.”
She smiled in a way that was almost sympathetic, but still looked a little menacing.
“The Headmaster himself will be overseeing part of your orientation, and we mustn’t keep him waiting. Oh no, that wouldn’t do at all…” She tutted to herself as she led the pair of girls down a brightly lit hallway lined with doors on either side.
She stopped at last at a door that seemed to Emily to be identical to every other door in the hall, opened the door, and motioned the pair of them inside. The room itself resembled a doctor’s office more than anything else, with a trio of examination tables along one side, and a stainless steel-topped work area along the other. Glass-fronted cabinets held an array of small steel cages that looked unfortunately familiar to both girls. The receptionist took a pair of thick plastic bags from a dispenser next to the door and handed one to each girl.
“You can get undressed. Everything except your keys can go in the bags. Your clothes will be laundered and returned to you at Christmas Break. The Headmaster will be along in a moment.” She cast a knowing look at both girls, a small wry smile spreading across her face;
“There most certainly isn’t enough time for any of that.” She warned, looking pointedly from the key each girl wore around their necks, then down below their waist. “Not that you’d be the first to try.”
Confident that they had gotten the point, she gave them a curt nod, and left the room, her footsteps growing quieter as she returned down the hallway to her desk.
Emily was a little speechless. She had expected her clothes to be confiscated, but she had assumed that it would be private. Having to strip down to her cage in front of a complete stranger was more than a little uncomfortable. This wasn’t at all how she had pictured today going, and she bitterly scolded herself for leaving this to the last minute. She looked at Aurora, who sniffed dismissively at her, and then began undressing. Hearing footsteps returning down the hallway, Emily began undressing as well. She was still sliding off her panties when the door opened.
Through it walked a man Emily immediately assumed to be the Headmaster. Tall, slim, incredibly well-groomed and impeccably, if conservatively dressed. Not a single silver hair on his head was out of place, and his pale grey eyes looked her over from head to toe, but without lingering on her bared breasts or her cage. He seemed in total control of himself and the situation. He had a presence, a gravitas that Emily, so very used to authority figures, felt immediately. He reached the centre of the room and folded his arms behind his back.
“Ms. Black, Ms. Idris. Welcome to Rattangrove Academy. I am the Headmaster of this school. You may call me Sir, or Headmaster, either is perfectly acceptable. I am so glad that you have finally…” his eyes flicked towards the clock on the wall “Decided to join us on this exciting day. You will be joining the rest of the students shortly, but there are some matters we need to take care of first.”
The Headmaster smiled, confidently. He seemed very aware of the effect he had on nervous young women. “No need to delay, girls. Up on the examining tables with you, I will take your keys in a moment.” When neither girl moved he tapped the toe of his shoe loudly against the hard tile floor. “This isn’t the part of the orientation where I test out the paddles on you, but if you don’t get moving it most definitely will be.”
Aurora hopped up on the examining table. “The part of the orientation where WHAT?!?” She knew Rattangrove still used corporal punishment, but she still held on to the belief that it wouldn’t really happen to her. She was going to be SPANKED, like a CHILD!? She wanted to say something. To throw something. This wasn’t supposed to be happening to her. Sure, it should be happening to that doe-eyed little brunette over there – she would look just about right getting her pale little ass whipped red over the old man’s lap. But… this wasn’t the way it was supposed to have gone at all… not for her.
As the girls waited silently, the Headmaster quietly busied himself over at the work station, arranging items on a small aluminum surgical tray. He seemed in no hurry for someone who had just scolded them for being late, and Emily tried to make herself comfortable on the hard metal table. Oddly, she didn’t feel uncomfortable being nude in the Headmaster’s presence. He seemed… above simple crude sexual urges somehow. After a moment, he returned, approaching Emily’s examining table first.
The Headmaster placed the surgical tray on the table next to Emily, and with a small encouraging smile, he motioned for her to take the key from around her neck. Emily unclasped the thin chain that suspended the key between her breasts and passed it to the Headmaster.
“Thighs apart please, Ms. Black.” It was an order not a request, no matter how gently and politely he said it, and Emily complied, leaning back on the table to give him access to her cage. Her parents hadn’t thought that allowing her to wear the “Good Girl Cage” with the delicious gaps between the bars where her fingers could touch a tiny bit of skin sent the right message for a school like Rattangrove. So she was in the far more restrictive of her two cages; a fully enclosed pink steel tube with a small hole on the end to allow her to urinate. The Headmaster inserted the key into the locking pin, and with a twist, Emily was unlocked for the first time in months.
She gave an involuntary twitch and mewl of pleasure as the Headmaster slid the tube of the cage off of her. The sensation of the cool slick metal sliding against her extremely sensitive organ was more than she had felt in a very long time. Gently he removed the ring as well placing both tube and ring on the surgical tray, leaving Emily truly naked and feeling oddly exposed in a way she hadn’t with the cage still on. Next, the Headmaster picked up a small silver device, like a miniature blowtorch, from the surgical tray.
“This is an infrasonic epilator. It is completely painless, and it will ensure that you do not require the cage to be removed for shaving during your time here. Assuming you do not receive another treatment before then, hair growth should start again in approximately eight months.”
The Headmaster turned a dial on the epilator, and although there was no flame, Emily could see the air where a flame ought to be glow faintly blue. Emily had always kept things fairly… tidy… down there. It made wearing a cage much more comfortable, plus she thought it looked cute. She didn’t have a lot of hair to lose, but as the epilator passed over her skin, it’s “touch” like a chilly cloud of static electricity, she watched as the hairs shriveled from the root upwards, then dropped away. The Headmaster was slow and thorough, removing every trace of hair, before brushing her clean with a small shaving brush.
Satisfied that she was entirely hairless, he picked up a small tube of clear gel and rubbed a generous amount into his hands. Firmly, and without any hint of getting any pleasure from it himself, he applied the surprisingly warm gel all over Emily’s recently freed parts. Emily bit the inside of her cheek at the sensation, intensely pleasant after so long denied, but she also knew that she would be utterly mortified if she started getting hard. The gel started warm and finished tingly, smelling strongly of antiseptic and alcohol.
“The gel won’t keep things clean for very long.” The Headmaster said, “But at least we know you’re starting off your time here clean and sanitized.”
Finally, the Headmaster picked up her new cage from the tray. It was a pure white, and if anything it looked even smaller than her old one. She knew it had been custom made to her exact measurements, the result of a rather awkward fitting session with a nurse a few weeks prior. She looked down at herself, seeing herself without the cage was always a little surreal – ad she had no idea when she might be unlocked again. She quietly willed the phone hanging on the wall to ring, so that she might sneak a quick touch while the Headmaster was distracted, but it remained frustratingly silent.
The Headmaster slid the ring over her testes, and then over the shaft, expertly manipulating the skin so that the cage didn’t tug or bind. Emily wondered exactly how many times he’d done this to know how to get a comfortable fit so quickly. She herself struggled with it on the extremely rare occasions she had actually been allowed to take the whole cage off. The tube was next, and as the titanium locking pin sealed both sides together with barely a visible seam. The Headmaster exhaled quietly with the satisfaction of a job well done. Emily got the feeling that seeing her unlocked, even for such a brief time, had made the Headmaster somewhat uncomfortable.
“You may relax Ms. Black. We will begin the next part of your orientation once Ms. Idris has been fitted.”
He slipped Emily’s key into the hip pocket of his slacks, and picked up the surgical tray. Now it was Aurora’s turn.