A/N Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to announce that this is the final chapter of the Salvation series. It has been a very long road putting this story together, and I’m ready for the break.

Sally waited patiently with the rest of her class for Miss Marshall to
arrive. When she did, she smiled at them seemingly unaware of how deeply
they all idolised her.

“In you go,” Miss Marshall, said as she ushered them in.

Sally was concentrating so hard during the lesson that she failed to
notice the messenger boy arrive, and it never occurred that the note
could be about her, that is until the music stopped and Miss Marshall
glanced her way.

“Sally Newcombe!” Miss Marshall called out, and her friends looked
towards her, their eyes widening.

“Yes Miss!” Sally answered.

“You are wanted in room five,” Miss Marshall announced with a sly grin.

The class fell silent, as most of them were aware that room five was a
code for the punishment room.

As she left, her fellow pupils looked at each other, whispering and
wondering what she could have possibly done to be summoned to room five.

“Back to your lessons!” Miss Marshall said clapping her hands to gain
their attention.

As Sally walked to room five, her mind was in a quandary as she tried to
work out what she might have done, or not done, to earn herself a trip to
the punishment room.

At Avondale nothing was straightforward and being sent to room five
didn’t always mean you had been naughty.

******

Miss Ashton was in her office entertaining Sally’s parents, Brian and
Jessica Newcombe.

“I can’t believe that this is about to happen,” Brian said, his face
glowing with excitement. Beside him, Jessica looked no less affected by
the prospect of watching their daughter’s punishment.

“We’ve dreamt of this moment for a long time,” Jessica explained.

Her heart was in her mouth, pounding steadily with her excitement at the
thought of watching her daughter being abused and punished for their
entertainment.

“It’s all the more exciting because she is such an exemplary pupil,”
Brian added.

“Will we see everything, I mean, absolutely everything?” he asked
eagerly.

“I’d love to be able to touch her,” Jessica murmured wistfully.

“Oh God yes!” Brian gasped with his remaining breath.

Miss Ashton smiled as she too became excited by the prospect.

“There may be a way of achieving what you desire,” she murmured.

Looking up she saw she had their full attention and nodded.

“Rather than remaining in the viewing room, Sally could be made to wear a
partial face mask.

It would act as a blindfold and allow you to be in the room itself, but
it would mean that you would have to remain totally silent,” Miss Ashton
warned.

Brian and Jessica looked at each other excitedly, and she didn’t need any
rapturous agreement to know that they were more than happy with the
arrangement.

******

Miss Hilary Bishop had been instructed of the parent’s wishes by Miss
Ashton and was already waiting in room five when the twelve–year–old
knocked on the door.

“Enter!” Hilary called.

Sally stepped nervously into the room staring all around her.

“Not been in here before, have you Sally?” Miss Bishop asked, going over
to the cupboard.

“No miss,” Sally agreed, her voice practically a whisper.

“Remove your uniform, then put this on,” Miss Bishop ordered.

Feeling numb, Sally removed her uniform and stood naked with her arms at
her side, as she’d been taught. Hilary smiled and approached the nervous
child, the mask held ready to place over her head, to mask her eyes and
half cover her ears.

“The door’s still open Miss,” Sally noted, for some reason worried that
someone might see her being punished.

“Don’t you go worrying about the door Sally,” Miss Bishop told her,
gently chuckling.

“You’ll have plenty to worry about very shortly,” she added.

The leather mask fitted snugly over Sally’s hair while the padded eye
sockets pressed the girl’s eyelids down and helped ensure she’d not see
anything that was to occur. A strap ran under the chin, fastened so the
mask would fit snugly and tightly, without any chance of it slipping
loose.

“Now then, what shall we start with?” Hilary asked.

Her voice half masked the entry of the parents, both clearly excited by
the sight of their daughter standing naked before them, oblivious to
their presence.

Jessica looked at the implements and licked her lips, and when she
pointed to a short dog whip, Hilary beamed as she took in down from the
wall.

“Stand straight, Sally!” Miss Bishop ordered.

In the darkness of her mask, Sally heard Miss Bishop’s command and
straightened her shoulders. Nothing though could stop her trembling as
she wondered where she would feel the pain first, and from what
implement.

Stories from other pupils crowded in on her, stories of the agony
inflicted on them and how the implements were used everywhere and
anywhere, with no place being spared.

With her parents standing close, crowding her with their eagerness,
Hilary raised the whip and brought it round in an arc that made the
unforgiving leather sweep across Sally’s breasts, a fitting prelude to
the harsher punishment that would follow.

Her parents gasped excitedly as they watched Sally jump and cry out, and
then shake while her nipples swelled and darkened. Sally panted and
fought back tears under her mask.

She tried being brave, knowing from what others had said that they
treated you better if you showed how brave you were. The sensations
across her breasts were a mix of heat and itching that made her groan
with frustration.

The second stroke caught her unawares, landing across her breasts again
but from the other side, a back handed strike that made her squeal and
jump up and down.

“Good girl, good girl,” Miss Bishop said, as she roughly tugged on her
painful hard nipples.

Sally gasped and pressed her legs together as the pull on her tiny
nipples brought a dagger of hot sensation driving into her, the tip
creating a spear of heat that sped down to her crotch, igniting her
little cunt.

She squirmed, panting; as her slit grew wet, totally unaware
of the spectacle she was creating for her excited parents.

Miss Bishop stepped back again, this time to swing the whip down hard
across the child’s bottom and grinned as this forced her to fling her
loins forward, gasping as the pain seared into her.

“Hands on your head,” she ordered as the girl gave in to her craving and
started to rub her sore little bottom.

Sally whimpered but obeyed, her mouth now hanging open as she panted for
breath, half with the sensations burning slowly ever deeper into her
breasts and bottom, and partly from the tension of waiting for the next
stroke and wondering where it would land.

It struck her breasts again and she sucked in her belly as the fierce
sensations surged through her. Whimpering, her elbows half forward in an
effort to protect herself, the next stroke seared across her sore bottom
and she jumped erect, crying out as the heat overwhelmed her.

“Very good Sally! You’re doing well,” Miss Bishop, told her, stepping
forward to caress the child again.

Sally whimpered, the tingling sensations the teacher’s fingers were
introducing to her, competing with the awful prickly heat continuing to
invade her tenderized breasts and bottom.

“No, it’s not over yet,” Miss Bishop, teased.

She nodded towards the child’s father and motioned him to choose the next
implement.

Tearing his eyes from his blindfolded daughter, he studied the wall,
looking for something painful, but not too harsh, to complement what had
already been done, and to leave room for much more to come.

He found what he was looking for in a thin pliable bamboo cane, and
bolstered by Miss Bishop’s wide grin, passed it to her.

“You’re going to stay very still, aren’t you Sally?” Hilary asked,
containing her own excitement with a series of deep breaths.

“Yes Miss,” the girl answered meekly.

Miss Bishop grinned and took a grip of the child’s hair, pulling her
head back before slapping one side of her little nipple with the bamboo
cane. Sally gasped loudly and quivered, her toes now turning inwards as
she absorbed the lancing hot pain it had produced.

On Sally’s milky white skin, a short but broad red line appeared to
announce where it had landed. She produced another tender line below the
budding nipple, then crossed to concentrate on the other budding breast,
each strike of the implement creating another vivid red mark, short and
broad, against her otherwise pale young skin.

Sally’s bottom beckoned; proud and tight little spheres so perfectly
young and petite. The cane struck her flanks first, where her tight bottom
cheeks created a flat surface before her thigh began to curve and taper.

Each strike brought a fresh squeal, then a squirming of her lovely young
body.

Now, as her bottom was caned, Sally began jerking forward, oblivious to
her parents who stood in front of her, each holding the other as they
looked on in amazement and excitement.

Miss Bishop made Sally dance as she thrashed her thighs first on the
front and then on the back. Then she stood back and nodded towards
Jessica, inviting the woman to choose the next implement.

Miss Bishop stroked Sally’s hair and comforted the weeping girl, her body
angled so it wouldn’t interfere with her father’s avid view of his
daughter’s marked body.

Only five feet two inches tall in her bare feet, Sally’s otherwise smooth
pale skin was now decorated with the glowing imprints of the bamboo cane.

Her nipples were encircled by them, her belly and bottom lined with them,
her upper thighs striped with them, all of them now sending a dull
burning sensation into her, long after the stroke had landed.

What could enhance Sally’s punishment, Jessica wondered, looking at the
display of implements on the wall and glancing at her daughter, as if to
match one with the other like a set of clothes?

She reached out and stroked the riding crop, licking her lips as she
tried to imagine the pain it would inflict.

Her eyes traveled along the many implements, unsure of many while
judging others too harsh. Then her eyes fell upon a bunch of birch twigs,
and her cunt filled with excitement as she pointed to them.

“I need to tie your wrists together now,” Hilary told her.

Sally whimpered, begging wordlessly to be forgiven and released.

As her wrists were taken and strapped together, her tears scalded her
eyes and were soaked up by the mask as she felt a rope pulling her arms
upwards.

Unable to hold back any longer, Sally began to cry, weeping dismally as
she thought horrors to come. Pulled up onto her toes, she wailed, hanging
limply by her wrists and waiting for new agonies to strike her.

“Oh Christ!” Brian murmured under his breath and pulled his wife’s hand
urgently to his breeches.

Jessica felt his throbbing hardness burning into her palm through the
thick cotton and automatically took a hold of it, groaning quietly as she
felt it jerk in response.

She wanted it. She wanted to feel her husband tugging her head back and
forth on the thick stem while she knelt in front of him in meek
servitude. She wanted to feel it stretching her cunt, sliding deep inside
her from behind.

But most of all, she wanted to watch her daughter dance in agony, and
wanted to hear her screaming and see her body beautifully scoured by the
many implements on the wall.

Hilary hummed softly to herself, controlling her excitement while she
caressed the birch twigs she held in her hand.

She waited for the child to come to terms with her helplessness, and to
let her initial flood of panic slide away and leave her with an ever-
deepening dread.

It gave Sally’s parents a greater chance of admiring the suspended child,
now slowly rotating as she tried to balance herself, the rope holding her
on tiptoes.

When she gauged the time right, Hilary placed herself in front of the
young girl and measured the distance needed for the twigs to skim her
young body, lightly scraping her tender young skin.

Years of experience helped her gauge the slight swing of the child’s body
and she felt the parents hold their breath. Her eyes judged the distance
and waited for the moment. Her own breath filled her lungs and was held.

Seconds passed, each one twice the length of her beating heart.

The stillness that had taken over everyone except Sally came to an abrupt
end as the birch twigs swung, traveling horizontally across Sally’s
breasts. The twigs scored her pale young skin, digging deeper across the
delicate rise of girlish breasts and tugging at her small, delicate
little nipples.

Sally screamed, her stretched young body suddenly tensing under the
onslaught of pain raging into her. Swinging from her wrists, her body
tossed side to side and slowly swung round on the rope.

Crying in agony, her turning denied her parents the sight of her scored
skin swelling and brightening, but offered her lovely bottom in
recompense.

Miss Bishop beamed and swung again, little artistry needed to sweep the
birch across the child’s pert bottom. Once again, the hard twigs bit into
the young flesh, scratching and scouring, tearing at flesh to leave their
mark.

Moments later, Sally was screeching her renewed agony and kicking her
legs madly up and down, her tears now running from under her mask as the
white hot pain lanced deep into her groin.

“That’s my girl, just a little bit further,” Hilary murmured, her arm
held back waiting for the moment when she would stop turning.

The girl was racked with sobs yet, exhausted, was hanging limp from her
wrists again. Her whimpering begged for an end to her torture, blind to
the woman waiting to thrash her little breasts once more.

While Sally’s parents looked on, one arm around each other, the other
cupping each others genitals through their clothes, Hilary judged the
moment right and swept the twigs round, the tip of each adding to the
little scrapes and cuts that already adorned Sally’s little breasts.

Sally breathlessly squealed again and danced as she fought to dispel the
sudden agony sweeping into her breasts.

Crying she squirmed in an attempt to rid herself of the encroaching pain
and twisted her wrists in an effort to free them and grip her burning
nipples.

Hilary waited for Sally’s lovely bottom to present its self to her again,
breathing deeply and listening to her weep as she slowly and blindly
rotated.

Then it was there; a pert little bottom already decorated with the ragged
torn skin from the previous stroke. She swept the twigs from the opposite
direction, and felt a real flood of pleasure flow over her as Sally’s
young body was jerked forward once again and a fresh scream torn from her
young throat.

“Ah yes!” Hilary sighed, her sudden orgasm sliding away leaving her calm
once more.

The hanging child’s bottom was now decorated with deep ragged scrapes
that pearled with blood, some smeared across her skin from the second
sweep of the twigs.

“You look so pretty,” Miss Bishop murmured, and wished that she were able
to see herself in the mirror.

Her wide-eyed stare would have added to her excitement, as would her
growing nervousness as she watched yet another implement being taken down
from the wall.

She undid Sally’s wrists to let the weeping girl sag against her, her
soft crying an indication she thought her ordeal over. Hilary soothed her
and stroked her, letting her think just that, as she guided her over to
the padded bench.

While the parents crept over for a closer look, Miss Bishop soothed the
sobbing girl with soft words of comfort while at the same time arranging
her on the bench. For long moments Sally didn’t realize what was
happening.

By the time she did it was too late; the wrist restraints had drawn her
arms down to couplings on the legs of the bench and others now closed
around her ankles.

It was now Hilary’s turn to choose an implement and her parents were
happy to let her do so, their attention now fixated on their sobbing
daughter who was frantically squirming in an effort to free herself,
totally oblivious to the erotic spectacle she presented.

Miss Bishop chose a martinet, twisting her wrist in a circular motion to
whip the strands of leather through the air. Jessica stared at it,
imagining it striking their daughter and sobbed.

Standing still, she let her husband reach under her dress to remove her
undergarments. She then reached for his manhood, thinking to feel him
through his breeches, but found his cock already sticking out of them
erect and swollen.

As his strong male fingers began to caress her cunt, she encircled his
cock and jerked the taut flesh back and forth, her eyes never leaving the
scene in front of her.

Hilary grinned and moved the whip closer and closer to the panting,
squirming child. Sally sensed it nearing her and whimpered, unsure of
what it was but knowing instinctively that it would mean pain to her.

She wasn’t wrong.

The leather strands struck her midriff each slap of leather bringing
greater and greater pain. Arching her head back, she screamed until there
was no breath left in her.

She tossed and turned in an effort to escape, and quickly learnt that
tossing to one side or other only made the pain worse, so she shook and
jerked on the bench as the martinet repeatedly struck her belly, sobbing
fitfully, crying out whenever she had the strength to do so.

Miss Bishop moved the strands of leather higher up the young girl’s body
and grinned as it began to whip against her already lacerated breasts,
further inflicting agony on her poor young body and lifting her
excitement and that of Sally’s parents.

It was so exhilarating to watch Sally struggling, and yet not being able
to twist or turn, but having to take each stroke directly on her budding
breasts.

It was also exciting to watch her flesh turn colour, from the fine
unblemished pale skin to the raging and tender red caused by being
constantly whipped.

Hilary worked downwards until Sally’s breath quickened and shortened with
a new breathless whimpering. As she struggled to free herself, Miss
Bishop grinned, slowing her pace to allow Sally the full agony of knowing
there would be no escape.

No closing of her thighs to protect herself, and no turning of her body
to mask the whip.

Sally’s belly rippled under the leather against her midriff and sank
inwards as the leather began to strike her there. Her legs squirmed
uselessly on either side of the bench, unable to close and protect the
tender flesh between them.

Her whimpering and sobs turned to loud weeping and her struggles took on
a new urgency as the martinet whipped into her pubis, and quickly turned
the translucent and pale skin to a glowing pink.

Sally’s cheeks gleamed with her tears as she arched her head back, her
mouth wide in a soundless, breathless scream as the tips of the martinet
began hitting her vulva, slapping against the apex of her cunt before
sinking between her tense and shaking legs.

“Oh god, look at that!” Brian gasped.

His eyes fixed on Sally’s pretty cunt, her vulva nicely rounded and full.
The strands of leather were softly, but none the less painfully whipped
in as her mistress twirled them around.

Stroke followed stroke, each one jerking Sally’s loins upward. The
muscles of her slender thighs stood out, as she grew taut with the ever-
increasing pain shooting into her body.

Jessica sobbed and slid slowly down to her knees, pleasure sweeping up
within her as her husband removed his hand from her cunt to smear her
with her thick juice before drawing away to guide her head to his rampant
manhood.

Positioned so she could watch Sally’s whipping, Jessica relaxed her
throat and let Brian shove her head fully down onto his cock.

Her eyes were turned on her daughter; her body sculptured by agony, her
pretty cunt glowing from the repeated whipping it was receiving.

Sally found the breath for a new scream as the parting of her vulva
exposed the little hood of her clitoris, bathing it within protective
wetness. Head bent back she lost control of herself, her pee spurting
like a fountain from between her legs.

She whimpered, realising what she’d done, and her body shook in an effort
to regain control, but it was too late.

The leather strands struck her one more time and, with a wail, Sally felt
her bladder open and wept into the darkness of her mask as the warm flow
of liquid fanned out from between her already sore thighs.

Miss Bishop stepped back and pressed the handle of the martinet to her
own crotch, forcing her vulva apart, and allowing her swollen and tender
clitoris to feel the full impact of the unforgiving leather handle.

To one side of her, Jessica spluttered as she submissively took her
husbands spurting seed and valiantly tried to swallow it while he
continued thrusting deep into her throat.

In front of her mistress, Sally sobbed and shook, the bright spurt of pee
dying away, the last of it trickling down from her cunt to pool at the
base of her bottom. The child’s inner thighs gleamed with the faintly
oily coating while the bench between her legs was soaked with it.

The sigh and sounds were too much for Miss Bishop and she jerked her hips
forward, coming on the unforgiving leather handle and sobbing with the
intensity of her orgasm.

******

“It was very naughty of you to lose control like that,” Hilary told Sally
as she unfastened the girl from the bench and helped her stand.

“I’m sorry Miss!” Sally sobbed, continuing to cry while the thought of
the added punishment she would receive, started to swim horribly through
her imagination.

Jessica wiped her mouth and Brian his cock, as they both stared in
amazement at their daughter.

“It would seen that normal punishment isn’t enough for you,” Hilary told
Sally, her delight unseen by the girl.

“What you need, is something a little more special,” she continued as
Sally’s parents looked towards her, their sobbing, shaking daughter
forgotten for a few moments as they watched her reach for a riding crop.

Miss Bishop guiding the weeping girl over to the bench again. Sally had
no idea what this special punishment would entail and started to sob
uncontrollably, begging for leniency, and promising her mistress that she
would never to it again. Her crying grew even fiercer as she felt her
legs being raised.

“I have a couple of assistants to help me now,” Miss Bishop told her.

Sally felt a pair of thighs straddle her face, and a pair of large strong
hands take hold of her ankles and pull them back, lifting her little
bottom off the bench.

“Please Miss, please!” she screamed.

“Shut her up!” Hilary spat.

Jessica groaned as she bent her knees outward and pressed her soaking
cunt fully to her daughter’s face. She moved, a hot gasp escaping her as
Sally’s pert little nose served to open her cunt, and sobbed as her
anxious breath flowed over her clitoris.

Hilary passed the riding crop to Sally’s father and sank to her knees to
service him. She stretched her mouth over his cock and groaned, savouring
the strong taste, so different to those of the young boys at the Academy.

Her hands cupped his manly balls, while Brian stretched and inhaled,
preparing to strike his daughter’s lovely bottom and thighs.

The crop slid along her thighs, brushing her pert vulva as it passed over
it on its way to her bottom. Her reaction made Jessica groan and squirm,
loving the feel of her daughter’s blubbering mouth against her sensitive
cunt.

Brian raised the crop, his face flushed and his mouth hanging open as he
took quick breaths and stared at her nicely parted bottom.

Miss Bishop drew all but the cock head from her mouth and stroked the
shaft while she watched the crop descend, sweeping down to land with a
sharp impact against Sally’s bottom cheeks.

Despite her mouth being firmly pressed against her mother’s crotch, all
heard Sally’s high pitched squeal, none more so than Jessica who felt the
strident cry as much as heard it. With a gasp, she stared wide-eyed in
front of her, seeing nothing as the pleasure stormed up her body.

“Again! Again!” she gasped urgently, her clutching thighs ensuring the
young girl heard nothing.

With a deep red line swelling across the sphere’s of Sally’s bottom, and
the young girl tossing her little bottom as the pain seared into her,
Brian lifted the crop again.

He groaned, hesitating as Hilary used her teeth on the tender flesh
behind his bloated cock head, then his arm whipped the crop down.

Once more Sally felt the lancing fire consume her, reaching deep into her
bottom where it flooded her with agony. Once more she screamed into the
humid and wet cunt that sat on her face, sliding back and forth and
grinding down on her nose and chin.

Her little fists beat uselessly against her mother’s bottom and her legs
tried desperately to break free, but nothing could stop the next
agonizing stroke.

It didn’t land on her bottom, but across her thighs. She stiffened with
agony and screamed again into the cunt that pressed down on her wide-open
mouth.

Jessica let go of her daughter’s legs, her orgasm claiming her, the force
taking away all her willpower to leave her falling upon her daughter,
bliss coursing through her as she blindly kissed the young flesh beneath
her.

Brian pulled Hilary onto his arching cock and felt her hands claw at his
pelvis as he began to spurt down the back of her mouth. His hand
tightened, stopping her from pulling away until his last spurt, then he
let her slip away, his attention full on his wife and daughter.

As her parents silently left the room, they were already planning the
next time that she would be expected to cruelly entertain them both.

******

Sally blinked as the mask was taken off, and then looked about her before
returning to her now naked mistress.

“Have you anything to say?” Miss Bishop asked her softly.

Sally slid from the bench to kneel on the floor at her mistress’s feet.
Trembling, but now for another reason, she softly asked for forgiveness.

“Have you learnt your lesson?” she was asked.

“Yes Miss,” she whispered, hoping she’d never be called to room five
again.

“And the lesson was?” Hilary asked, reaching out to stroke her hair.

Sally licked her lips, her eyes sliding down to her mistress’s cunt.

The woman’s pubis was large and firm, crying out to be kissed.

“Obedience and Submission,” Sally answered softly.

“Very good!” Hilary said, grinning with pride as she placed her foot on
the bench, leaving her cunt spread and available.

“Come on then,” she murmured, her fingers opening herself.

Sally crawled over and raised her head to lick timidly at the ripe flesh.
Unlike the woman who had sat on her earlier, her mistress’s cunt was
baby smooth, not one hair in sight.

Just perfectly smooth skin to run he tongue along, savouring the taste
before moving into the open slit where hot wetness waited to flood her.

“Good girl, good girl,” Miss Bishop breathed.

“If only your parents could see you now, they would so proud,” she
whispered, as Sally’s flickering tongue brought her to yet another
orgasm.

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