Chapter 6: The Student Body

When Harwell Tusker asked me how the girls should come to Highgate, I had assumed that he was referring to the mode of transport. I had been unconcerned saying that I suggested he should ask them. As a consequence, I was not expecting the manner of their arrival.

At the appointed time, Harwell's Stanley Countryman – a vehicle more suited to rural lanes than the bustle of London streets – pulled up outside. Two of Harwell's staff were sitting in the front and the driver immediately got down and helped out one passenger. It was a woman, Estelle I assumed, dressed in a long cape and a wide-brimmed hat. While she stood on the pavement, the two men went to the back of the car and lifted down a large trunk.

The group approached the front door, one of the men leading Estelle by the arm. A ring on my door bell announced them. When I answered the door the first man offered me a clipboard. "Delivery for you, Sir. If you could just sign we'll put these inside."

As I took the clipboard and pen, the man guided Estelle inside and then returned to help his colleague with the trunk. I returned the pad, he passed me a copy of the form, took one look at his delivery, and shook his head. Moments later, after the door was closed, a hiss of steam announced the departure of the Countryman and I was left with what, according to the delivery slip, was Miss Estelle and Miss Amanda Tusker.

It was extraordinary. Never had any of my students been delivered in such a manner. I could see at once what was in the mind of whichever of them had thought of this (I did not imagine for a moment that this was Harwell's doing). By so doing, no doubt, they sought to take the initiative in the matter of their involvement with me. It would have to be dealt with, of course, but in one way I was pleased that the two appeared to be embracing what was planned for them.

Estelle stood motionless. I looked at her closely. Beneath the brim of her hat she wore dark glasses. Behind the high collar of her heavy bombazine cloak I could see a scarf that seemed to cover the lower half of her face. The puzzle of Estelle's silent and statuesque appearance would, I felt, only be solved by removing her cloak. I unfastened the catch at her throat and drew the cloak from her. The puzzle was immediately resolved.

The girl was naked above her skirt. Her hands were fastened behind her back. The scarf was pulled tightly across her lips and, when removed, revealed a further cloth stuffing her mouth. I removed her dark glasses and saw that they were completely opaque. She would have seen nothing of her journey from Benfield. I draped her cloak over a chair. She made no effort to move nor did she try to expel the cloth filling her mouth but stood passively, half naked, still wearing her wide-brimmed hat.

I turned my attention to the trunk which I assumed would contain Estelle's twin sister. I was correct. She was entirely naked, lying face down in the trunk, her arms and legs tied in an unpleasant hogtie whose ropes extended to her head forming a cruel gag of knotted strands. I loosed the ropes between her wrists and ankles and helped her to her feet. The restriction imposed by the rope that gagged her forced her to hold her head back so that she was almost facing the ceiling. This combined with the fact that her legs and knees were still tied and that she was stiff from her journey meant she could stand only with the greatest difficulty. I could hardly start our programme with the girl as she was, however much she (or I) might wish it. I freed her ankles and knees and unfastened the gag. I pulled the wad of cloth from her sister's mouth and told the two girls to follow me into my consulting room. They followed obediently. A good sign, I thought.

My consulting room is a comfortable space. A heavy leather chesterfield provides seating, usually for my clients. I have my desk, my chair and my books. It looks out onto the small garden at the back of the property, a small patch of green in the yellow-grey brick of the Highgate terrace. I sat on the chesterfield and had the girls stand to one side where the afternoon light from the window fell across their nakedness.

Twins they might be but they were still physically quite different. Estelle was tall and rangy, a good three inches taller than her twin sister. Evidence of her physical exercise showed in muscular development on her arms and shoulders. Her breasts were quite small but with pronounced dark brown areolas. Her navel protruded slightly. Amanda, on the other hand, was more compact. Not fat exactly, but well covered; her tits rounder and fuller; her hips swelling with the promise of ample buttocks behind.

They seemed uncomfortable from the first with my survey of them, becoming more restless by the minute as I sat gazing at their bodies. In part, I will confess, this involved some self-gratification but it had a relevance to their adjustment as well. It is of value to me in helping me to plan the use of physical restraints and of punishments and it is of value to them in introducing them to the need to be viewed as sexual objects without objecting.

I decided to break the silence. "Tell me," I said, "whose idea was it that you should arrive as you did?"

"We thought it appropriate," Amanda volunteered, looking straight at me. There were still red scores around her chest below her breasts where the rope had pressed against her in her trunk.

"I think it self-indulgent," I replied with a snap. "You will not find the changes you need to make in yourself by pursuing adolescent fantasies of abduction and enslavement here. This is not the scenario of some romantic or Gothic novel," I could see that Estelle had managed a smirk at her sister's discomfort, while still trying to keep her gaze cast down in the way that they had evidently decided would be appropriate. "Nor is it one that might grace the photographic studios of some colonial pornographer." Estelle blushed in response. "No matter. I must confess it amused me and I suppose I should give you some credit for entering in to what you imagined would be the spirit of your time here."

The two girls said nothing. That encouraged me. Too often my students in their early days feel it necessary to respond to rhetorical remarks. I was happy to have their embarrassed silence.

"Well, ladies, let us start. Let me explain how things are here. You will, as you both obviously expect, find that your movement is restricted. You will remain here until I consider that you have finished your adjustment. That process will involve a number of tasks which I will set you. You will carry them out. There will be no discussion on that score. Each task is an important part of the process and you will complete it. You are here voluntarily are you not?"

The two girls nodded.

"Please," I said, "I would prefer it if you spoke in response to my questions where possible. It avoids the risks of confusion between us. It would be most unfortunate if I mistakenly thought I had your consent when I did not."

"Yes, Sir," Estelle volunteered.

"Sorry, Sir. Yes," Amanda agreed.

"Good. In which case, you will accept what is done to you here. You will also accept that, in the event of poor performance, I may need to take steps to improve or correct your behaviour and your attitude."

My words, in some ways intended to pander to their fantasies, brought a short intake of breath from the two. Each, I noticed, experienced a stiffening of her nipples in response. I train myself to observe these small indications of a woman's state of arousal, a critical means to determine the impact that my adjustment programme is having.

Amanda and Estelle, each recognising that I had observed their response to my words, lowered their eyes in embarrassment. "Please, ladies," I continued, "you need have no concerns over my seeing your innermost thoughts. This will soon seem second nature to you. Now, perhaps you wish to see your accommodation?"

There was a wary "Yes, Sir," from the two girls. Amanda sounded rather more eager than Estelle, I judged. I showed them the way to the cellar door and invited them to take the wooden steps down into it. The pale light from the cellar's gas mantles lent a softness to the girls' skin as they descended the staircase with diffidence. Amanda stopped, about half-way down the flight of steps, staring at the instruments arranged on the walls of the room below. The sight of the lengths of rope and chain seemed to have stopped her in her tracks as readily as if I had ensnared her. Estelle stopped behind her, looking intently at the other wall on which were hung the whips, crops and paddles that were my routinely used devices of correction.

"This will be where you will spend your sleeping hours and where, in the likely event that you need some form of correction for your behaviour, punishments will normally be administered." The two girls were listening attentively. Amanda's tongue slid over her lips unconsciously at the word 'punishments' betraying once more her sexual orientation. "You will be accommodated within these cages," I continued. "You will come here willingly, as and when I instruct you to. You will follow my instructions without debate or argument. You will accept any sanctions that I apply as being for your benefit. Do you understand?"

I was simply restating the terms of the original agreement that the girls had already consented to but I feel repetition always ensures complete clarity and, given the rather different nature of the behavioural adjustment project, I considered that it was important to reiterate my conditions.