"What kind of animal are you?" Carla Henniger stared with mounting terror at the big man, her fingers pressed against her lips while her eyes rounded. This hadn't been at all what she'd expected. Why had he hit her? Drawing one hand up to her cheeks, she felt the burning still on her flesh. A tear rolled from one eye as she backed away, shaking her head from side to side.
"Don't… don't touch me! Don't come near me, or I'll scream for the police!"
Looking around, the attractive woman searched for a way out – any way. This interview hadn't gone well at all. And to think she'd thought about entering her daughter in this hellhole of a private school!
"Come on Mrs. Henniger. Or should I call you Carla? I think we're going to get to know each other well, Carla."
The tall, blonde, attractive woman backed away, shrinking from Mike Appleton's hand. He had hit her, struck her across the face while laughing at her. Where was the rest of the staff? What had happened to them? He had taken her on a tour of the private girls' school here in the deserted back country, ten miles east of San Bernardino, stressing the institution's policy of strict discipline coupled with fine academics.
Carla had thought it strange that the few girls she saw walked in two's and seemed to shy away from her as she approached them. There weren't the usual high-spirited athletic activities going on as at other schools. Still, Carla thought that a somber atmosphere was just, what her daughter needed – something that would tame what she thought were some dangerous tendencies toward delinquency. But this – this maniac had cornered her in his office alter the tour, locked the door and then made obscene suggestions. When she refused and indignantly demanded to be let go, he had struck her, backhanding her across the left cheek. Carla stood there stunned, not believing he had hit her. No one had done that, not even her father when disciplining her! And now this complete stranger had struck her and was even sneering at her!
"Help! Help me! Somebody, please!" Carla cried, turning her head and calling out until her throat hurt.
No one. He had timed this perfectly, ensuring the administration building was empty before approaching her. He took one step, holding a hand out to her.
Again, Carla shrank away, holding both hands to her tits while pressing her full, firm ass against the wall. She could hear the steady ticking of the wooden-framed clock above her as if it were telling her to run. Her flesh crawled as she again stared at the door behind the tally dark-haired chief administrator. He was pulling off his tie now, opening his shirt, revealing the hairs on his chest while still approaching her. That look in his eyes – those black pools of utter depravity! Never before had Carla felt as trapped, as helpless as she did flaw.
"You're wasting your breath and my time," Mike said, shrugging off his jacket, then rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt.
"No, oh no," she whimpered, her voice seeming to shrink inside her.
"There. Now, that's better," Mike said, smiling at her. "A mother should always find out about the school her daughter's going to attend. And the best way to do that," he said, his smile fading somewhat, "is to experience the same lessons…"
"Just that. You'll learn the obedience you want your daughter to study. And you'll do it right, or we'll try again."
Mike threw himself on top of her, his feet kicking her ankles apart while his hands ripped at her blue cotton print dress. Carla was frantic, her mind going blank as she felt his fingers tearing at the material. His lips were on her throat, sucking hard, his teeth nearly breaking her, skin. There were times when he gathered strands of her hair in the fist of one hand, jerking her head back, the pain forcing her jaws to part. She screamed the shriek of the damned, the pain knifing through her body. Then he let go, his finger groping for the zipper of her dress, tearing it down, opening the drew, then pulling it from her slender shoulders. She felt the drag of the material over her arms, her thighs, her feet. Flinging her hands around her tits, Carla managed to break away from him, scooting behind his desk and gripping auto the high-backed leather chair.
"Help! Police! Oh God, God, why doesn't someone come here?"
Tears blinded Carla as she rushed from behind the desk for the door. Stretching out his right foot, Mike tripped the fleeing woman, sending her crashing facedown onto the blue carpeted floor.
The fall temporarily stunned Carla. She lay there, her hands out in front of her, in left cheek pressed against the floor while her legs were wide apart. Reaching down, he unbuckled his wide black leather belt, pulling it from his trousers and wrapping the buckled end so tightly around his knuckles they whitened.
Carla began coming to, bracing her arms on either side of her body while pushing up. She knew she had to escape. She knew she had to run from this madhouse or something terrible would happen to her and her daughter Krystal. Somehow, she managed to get to her hands and knees, shaking the loose hair from her face. Where was Mike? She couldn't see him for the moment. Then, looking up, Carla stiffened. She saw his shadow on the wall in front of her. One hand was raised, cocked over her body while a slender shadow hung down from his fingers.
She could hear the leather hiss through the air. With a sharp laugh, he brought it down across her round firm asscheeks, the leather slicing into the nylon right over her ass crack. Carla flung her head back, her hair sweeping over her throat and shoulders as a scream ripped from her throat. She pitched forward, her arms collapsing under her.
"That's good," Mike said approvingly, scratching his thick, well-trimmed beard. Carla whimpered, feeling the flesh of her asscheeks stinging with the hard blow.
"Very good. Now let's try it again."
Once more the belt hissed through the air, arcing down, the beveled tip biting into her ass flesh and making the woman scream for mercy. Again and again, the belt slashed across her ass, the blows forcing her panties to ride up until the legbands was up against her groin.
Mike stepped forward, pressing the toe of his black engineering boots into her asscrack, wiping the translucent nylon into her shiner. Carla gagged, stretching out her hands once more and trying to pull her body forward, away from the big stud. He moved his foot, kicking her with his heel.
"Over. Onto your fuckin' ass!" he growled, dropping all pretense at civility.
With a great effort, the panting, sobbing woman rolled onto her spine, cupping her hands instinctively over her cunt. Mike brought the toe of his left boot around once more, kicking away her fingers, staring at her blonde cunt bush barely visible through her panties.
Carla trembled, feeling as if she were on an operating table, an experiment, something to be toyed with then thrown away like a useless, filthy piece of trash. Mike brought one foot up and drew it over her cunt. Rubbing his toe against her right inner thigh, he moved it up until the boot was wrinkling the damp material into her cunthole. Carla stiffened, writhing her shoulders against the carpet until it scratched her uncomfortably. She felt the nylon scraping over her cuntal walls, felt the pressure of that hard, leather-booted toe pressing into her pussy. It was awful, unbelievable that this was happening to her! The incident numbed her mind. This was the sort of thing that happened to other people, victims you read about in the papers and wondered how on earth they ever got into those situations.
Mike kicked her knees apart, stepping back while doubling the belt in his right hand. He tapped it gently, teasingly against his kneecap, watching as the woman shivered. Carla could almost feel the kiss of the belt against her skin now as it rubbed up against his trousers. With a quick move of his arm, Mike brought the leather dawn hard, smacking it dryly against her exposed belly.
One wild scream after another tore from her throat as the belt chewed down across her belly, then again over her upper thighs near her blonde fuzzy cunthairs. Carla moved her hands all over her body, desperately trying to protect herself from the whipping belt. But Mike was too fast for her, striking her in exposed places, then beating her in others as she struggled to hide her fear from him. Wild screams of agony followed the staccato blows, the woman kicking her legs up at him in a useless attempt to retaliate.
"A Goddamned little wild cat! I like that in woman," Mike said, wiping his upper lip with the back of one hand. "Wait, I'll tame you, just the way I'll tame your daughter."
"No, no! I'll never bring her to a place like this!" Carla screamed back.
Mike only laughed at her defiance, kicking her legs apart once more and bringing down the belt inches away from her pussy slit. Carla let out a sharp cry, fucking one leg under the other and rolling onto her belly. At least in that position Mike couldn't hurt her tits, her cunt. She felt the comforting pressure of the carpet against he tits and belly as she drew her knees together.
This couldn't be happening! It was some horrid nightmare. But the constant slapping of the leather against her body told Carla her dream was all too true.
Mike brought his doubled belt down hard twice in a criss-cross fashion, the leather tearing the nylon from her panties' waist band. She felt her flesh exposed by the belt, her skin crinkling with goosepimples as a draft blew over her body. He was dog whipping her, the blows making her crawl farther and farther away from him. She could feel her fingers clawing at the ragged ends of the carpeting while the belt whipped her ass into a cherry red.
"Gonna see those tits. I was watching them jiggle while you walked with me. It's a shame to hide them," Mike said, putting down his belt and bending over the sobbing woman. Carla felt his fingers sliding under the elastic band of her bra, tugging up. With one swift upward jerk, he ripped the material from her chest, tugging the bra away. Carla felt her nipples scratching teasingly against the floor. Mike bent over yet again, his hands smoothing over her red, sore asscheeks, pinching her buttocks until she screamed in pain.
"Good and hot. That's what I like about you. No matter what the hell I do to you, you're still good and hot!"
"Stop it! Oh, you… you beast!"
The sight of her naked ass striped red with the belt seemed to stoke up the big man's excitement even more. He moved back and swung the belt down time and time again like a meataxe, the blows drawing hysterical cries from the woman. Carla twisted wildly on the floor, too terrified to try to get up and rim from the pain. Gnawing flames of agony raked her flesh as she found herself pressed against the wall, her nails cracking from the brutal beating.
"That's it, baby. That's it! Move around the floor like the wild broad you are," Mike hissed, stinging her upper back with the belt. A particularly savage blow cut deep between her shoulderblades, knocking the wind from Carla. The woman thought for a second he had shattered her spine with that hit. She groaned, turning around once more on her back, kicking up with her feet and hands. Her legs were waving up and down, her fingers clawing helplessly for the big man's face, wanting to tear the flesh from his skull. Mike had completely exposed her, and now stared at her thick-furred pussy mound, noticing that her cuntlips were beginning to stretch and swell with lust, folding thickly over one another.
"Slut! You scream, and yet you're so damned hot you're running with juice all over yourself!"
"No! No!" Carla couldn't understand what was happening to her. The swinging belt, the smacking leather, the pain that brought hot tears to her eyes – everything should have made her half mad with pain and horror. And yet something was stirring inside her, something that was pleasurable and was racing side by side with the pain.
"Ahhahahahahhayaaaaaa! Oh God, no, no, not there! No, please, not there! Don't touch me there!"
Carla threw her hands down, fanning out her fingers, trying to protect her cunt. But Mike slapped the leather inches from her-pussy with sharp, stinging strokes, her inner thighs reddening from the savage beating. He was standing there now in front of her, his legs preventing hers from closing protectively over her pussy. Once more, Carla twisted, trying to roll onto her belly, her plump, firm asscheeks jiggling from her wild moves.
"Stop it! Stop… oh no, God no! You… you can't do this to me! Oh God!"
Carla was hysterical, her feet kicking now against Mike's hips. He was careful to twist his body to one side, preventing the woman from crushing his nuts as she wished to. With another sharp fucking blow, Mike brought the doubled over belt down hard across her nipples, the leather crushing her large, aroused red nubs into the surrounding tit flesh.
Carla's eyes bugged out, the pain throbbing into her brain, crushing into her skull. Her mouth opened. But only a hiss of air escaped over her teeth.
"No. Ahhahahhahh, pleeeease! Oh God, stop! Please, stay away from me with that thing! You can't… can't do it! Oh nor no, no, let me go! Oh God, can't stand this! No!"
"Then you're ready for more, is that right, Carla?" Mike said, letting the belt unfold. He trailed the cool black leather over her body, letting the pointed end of the belt draw over her injured nipples, her throat, down past her cleavage to her belly button, and finally over her cunt.
Carla shivered, her thighs tightening, the muscles ridging against her flesh as the leather licked through her cuntal hairs. She was shaming herself, rutting like this, feeling her clit actually stiffen and push up through its sheath, reddening with desire. Oh, oh, how it glowed even now as he did nothing to her but brush the belt around her pussy! It was all Carla could do to keep her ass flat against the floor. She set her jaw, firmly deciding not to show him any sign of arousal. She could at least leave here with her dignity, if not with her health.
"You can't keep me here forever," she said, fixing her eyes on his with grim determination. "When I leave here…"
"When you leave here," he interrupted coolly, "you'll bring your daughter and you'll submit her to the same treatment willingly."
Carla looked at him with amazement, enraged at his calm prediction.
"I'd rather see her rot in hell!"
Mike threw back his head and laughed.
"That's just where you think you'll have been when I get through with you and your daughter."
Carla wanted to spit in his face. All she could do was lie there, wondering what else this animal would do to her. She saw him glancing through the high window above her, seeming satisfied at what he saw.
"Good. Everybody's gone out of here for the day," Mike said. "It's time to show you more of the grounds – places you didn't see this afternoon."
"Don't touch me! You won't take me anywhere," Carla screamed, shrinking back once again as Mike tried to grab her wrists.
His face darkened, his smile turning into a glare. Stepping back, he struck a short, sharp blow with the belt that went down into her cunt crack. The stinging, hot pain was more than the woman could stand. Carla doubled up her knees flying apart while her body jerked to one side.
"Please, please, no more. No more pain! I'll-I'll do anything, but don't hurt me with that thing any more!"
"Just what I wanted to hear, Carla," Mike said, his face brightening.
The woman pushed the hair from her eyes, staring with hatred at him. Mike didn't care what she thought. The more defiant she was, the more she loathed him, the more excited he became. She could sense this as he cocked his arm up yet again.
"No, I told you I'll do anything, I… ahaahahahahhhhhh! No more! No, no, no, anything you want! Eeghhhhh!"
Two more whistling cuts shot down into her pussy, the leather stoking up the heat now singeing her clit. Carla sobbed out more pleas for mercy, her fingers covering her cunt while Mike kept on beating the belt over them. He stopped, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"Put on your dress," he said, kicking the ripped garment to her. "Or what's left of it," he added with a smirk. "No, I'll keep the bra and panties for now."
He snatched the undergarments from her.
Carla moved slowly, wiping the tears from her eyes. How her tits and ass and cunt ached from the belting! The fiery blows had enflamed her skin, making every part of her body sensitive to the slightest touch. And what was so odd was the sensitivity of her cunt. Carla pulled the dress over her head, trying to cover her body modestly with the torn garment.
"Get up. Don't try anything or I'll make this belting look like a nun's picnic."
No wonder there were no school games here. It was a sadist's haven, run by this maniac, probably using the girls for his pleasure. And she was going to send her daughter here? Never!
"You know something about medieval history?"
She was standing in what appeared to be a basement. They had walked through the empty administrative offices, their footsteps echoing eerily in the darkened corridors. Then they had walked through a rear door, crossing the small courtyard before entering another red-bricked building. This was an edifice Carla hadn't seen on her brief tour that afternoon. There were no windows, the building having the outside appearance of a large city incinerator.
"This used to be an old prison, they tell me," Mike said, holding her back by the shoulders and indicating the area with a sweep of the hand. "They used to put incorrigibles in here the army, that is. We've turned it to other purposes."
Carla could only imagine what those purposes were. A sudden rush of fear overwhelmed her once again as she thought of the belt, the way it had reddened her flesh and how its sting was still felt around her rump.
"I took this over several years ago," Mike continued, shoving her roughly forward between her shoulderblades while slamming the door behind her. Carla stumbled forward, sweeping the hair from her face, regaining her balance. Mike was quickly behind her. "It was going downhill. The woman who ran the place didn't know how to manage kids these days. You need a firm hand, firm like mine, Carla."
He stroked the back of her head, then curled his fingers and grabbed a fistful of her hair. Carla let out a short moan, her teeth chattering against one another. No. No! She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of crying put again.
"Keeping quiet? Good. I like that kind of strength. In here."
He let go of her hair, shoving the woman down another long corridor. Small yellowish overhead bulbs lit the cement corridor, a musky smell filling the air. Taking the keys from his belt, Mike opened a large green wooden door and motioned her inside.
A cold sweat broke out on Carla's forehead. As long as they had been walking, as long as they hadn't yet reached their goal, there seemed to be time to hope something would happen – someone would come to her rescue, notice her shuffling in front of this maniac, bare-footed, her dress ripped in several places, her hair ruffled around her shoulders. But now all hope sank as Carla stepped over the small concrete rise in the doorway.
Mike turned on the light.
"My… my God! What is this," she stammered, looking around her. She felt her hands and feet turn icy while more perspiration dotted her forehead. It was something straight out of a medieval story, just as Mike had said. The Middle Ages lived on here, she thought as her eyes swept around the walls, taking in the instruments of torture hanging from them. There were frightening-looking whips, riding crops, masks, gags, leather thongs, what appeared to be bridles, and other things that terrified Carla. And there in the middle of the room was a large wooden keg with a small brass faucet embedded in it. Mike put the keys back on his belt, closing the door behind him.
"You don't need that any more," he said, running his fingers over her dress, then tearing it from her body.
"Remember me talking about medieval history? They used things like this in those days, and in this country for a long time," he said, pointing to what at first was an unfamiliar object to Carla. It was a small wooden wall of about four feet in height, two large holes opposite one another, bored into the wood with two smaller ones about two feet above those. Hinges had been attached to one side of the bored-out wooden device, apparently making it possible to lift the areas around the holes together or separately. A pillory! Of course! She had seen pictures of those things in picture books when she was a little girl going to school. The pilgrims used them in Massachusetts for thieves and whores. Was he going to push her into, it?
"I think you've guessed what I'm going to do with you, Carla. Come on, follow me," Mike said, taking her by the right arm and pulling her forward.
She whimpered, tucking her ass back, trying to dig her bare feet into the cold concrete floor while struggling against the big man. It was futile. His fingers bruised her flesh, leaving long red marks on her skin as he tugged her forward to the pillory. Quickly, he swept her up in his arms, kicking the lower hinges open and thrusting in her legs through the larger holes. Carla tried pulling from his grip. The device crashed down with the sound of a slicing guillotine, making her flesh crawl with horror.
"Now for the arms."
Carla was no match for his strength. In a moment he had opened the top portion of the device, shoving her wrists through the hole, forcing her forward until her elbows were well into the curved grooves. Again he slammed the wood down, locking it in place. Only-now did the full force of her fear and panic descend on her. At least there in the office she could use her arms and legs to defend himself. At least there she could twist around, hiding her cunt, her ass, her tits from the belting and kicking. But now Carla saw she was completely held in place, unable to move at all, held in place by the pillory.
"Stop this! Stop this!"
She bounced her ass up and down, her plump reddened asscheeks jiggling against one another. She screamed and pulled back, trying to break the brass hinges still holding her fast. Carla saw she couldn't even tip the pillory over, the device as braced by wooden two-by-fours on either side at the bottom to steady it. The only thing not braced was her ass, sagging down from the pillory, prancing invitingly up and down as if waiting for another belting smack. Mike watched her approvingly, taking her chin in his right hand and squeezing his fingers. They were pressing right at the junction of her upper and lower jaw. Carla stopped her writhing and screaming, a shock of pain racing along her facial nerve and making her cheeks shudder. The agony was like a ragged saw cutting into her brain. He pressed harder, laughing at her, watching as her eyes rolled back into her head and her body shivered with pain. It was an agony the woman had never experienced before, her body revolting from its source. She bounced savagely against the pillory, the muscles in her arms and legs pressing against her skin while her ass checks worked against one another. For a moment she thought Mike would surely crush her skull in his hand. Then, with another snorting laugh, he let go, smacking her reprovingly across the face.
Her chin struck the top of the pillory, the force of the blow rattling her teeth. She stared at the big man as he rubbed his crotch, the outline of his fat cock apparent now.
"You show spunk. You're better than some of the girls I get in here," he continued, dragging the wooden cask over until it was right next to her. Carla eyed the object warily, moving her jaws, making certain he hadn't shattered anything in her skull.
"What's… what's in there?" she ventured, feeling that somehow she and that thing were going to be attached.
"Beer. Surprised?" Mike said, noticing her look of amazement. "The girls here don't brew it, of course. Some of the local ranchers around here gave me a recipe one day, shortly after I took this place over. Sometimes we indulge in it – at parties when we invite the students to join us."
"Join? You mean…?"
"The beer's pretty damned strong," Mike said with a laugh, attaching a large black rubber hose near the tip of the faucets. She saw there was a long, steel nozzle at the other end of the tube, something that reminded her of an enema tube. "It's not that slop they drink in the bars. It'll make you very drunk no matter how you take it – so drunk you're able to pass out after one or two drinks."
With that, Mike bent down, holding the nozzle in the fingers of his right hand while spreading her asscheeks with the other. Carla knew what he was going to do, and tensed her thighs, jerking her ass up, trying to move it away from his offending hand. When she felt him screwing one finger up into her shitter, she winced, her head snapping back, a shout coming from her mouth.
"Ow! Ow! You're… you're hurting me! Oh God, no, don't do this!"
Her cries became more intense, more blurred as Mike screwed his finger up farther, finally pressing his knuckle into her soft ass flesh. Carla screamed, mapping her body the pillory, groaning as she felt his jagged fingernail scraping along her bowel lining. He was humiliating and hurting her at the same time, prodding his awful finger up into her shitter, feeling around inside there while still holding that awful enema thing in one hand. When she looked down again, the woman saw him moving the nozzle up to her ass.
"Oh no, no, nooooowwwwwww!"
Carla screamed, feeling the nozzle replacing Mike's smaller, warm finger. It split her shitter lips apart, twisting into her asshole like some terrible gnawing animal, gouging against the soft, moist lining of her ass. Mike laughed, twisting the tube again, pushing in the nozzle, screwing it up until the brass tip disappeared into her body.
Carla lay her head on the top of the pillory, her face red with the shame and pain of having been fucked in the ass with that dreadful nozzle! She tried pushing with her thigh muscles as if she were about to take a shit. Nothing could dislodge that thing. It stayed there, the metal warming quickly to her body.
"Now, there's no reason why we've got to keep that pretty little cunt of yours unoccupied. Your asshole's got a friend. Might as well find one for your pussy."
Was he going to fuck her? How, in this position, especially with that awful thing up her ass? Carla jerked her head up the moment she heard something dragging across the basement floor. Moving her head to one side, she saw Mike pulling forward a three-legged stool. What amazed her was a large steel cock sticking straight up in the center of it! Tiny holes were pricked in the sides of the thing, a translucent tube dropping from the thickened bottom of the dildo and dragging behind Mike.
"It's kind of a variation on an old theme. I think you'll find the modifications fun," Mike said, winking at her.
"Fun? You, you bastard!" she sputtered, pulling back at the pillory as more hot tears of shame rolled down her face.
Mike laughed again as he positioned the stool under her ass. Carla shamed herself again, she felt, knowing her pussy was creaming with excitement. He rubbed his fingers up and down over her swollen labes, rubbing them together and up against her clit. Carla wriggled against the offending fingers, wishing she could tear herself from the pillory and rush from the room. But there was nothing she could do. The woman felt wave after wave of unspeakable humiliation flowing through her, knowing Mike understood just how aroused she was!
"And I'm not going to just sit and watch you fuck yourself," he said, moving his fingers away and starting to push the woman down onto the dildo.
Carla fought him as best she could, shrugging her shoulders, tensing her thighs and struggling upward against his hands. But nothing could stop him.
"You're going to suck me off, Carla. That's right," he said, smiling at her as she shot him an angry, defiant glance. "I'm gonna get this cock down your throat. And believe me, you're going to enjoy this as much as I will."
Carla couldn't believe what he said. Suck his cock? He had to be out of his mind if he taught she would enjoy something like that!
"Now, you can tell me if you like what's happening to you so far. You want to suck my cock?"
Carla shouted out the answer defiantly.
He backhanded her with a sharp slap, the force snapping Carla's head to one side. She fought back the tears, looking straight into Mike's eyes.
"You won't lie to me again, Carla. This whole session's going to change that."
With a quick move, Mike turned on the faucet of the barrel. Carla stiffened, her spine straightening while her asscheeks jiggled. She felt the cold stinging splash of the beer spatter into her shitter. Her body jerked, her asscheeks dancing and bobbing up and down. To her concern, Carla felt the dildo starting to slide into her pussy from her wild moves. Struggling for concentration, the woman tried to keep her body still. But the coursing beer was so cold and splashing all about her asshole, and it was difficult for her to remain impassive. In a moment, she felt Mike let go of her completely, her own body betraying her and forcing her pussy down onto the steel dildo.
"That's it, Carla. You're going to fuck yourself real good on that thing. Doesn't it feel good rodding into your cunt?"
Carla shut her eyes, letting her head fall back as more hard, cold inches from the thing speared into her cunt. In a moment she knew a little more than half of that thing had penetrated her body, squeezing past the swollen tissues of her pussy, pushing down deep into her cunt.
"Now, we're going to add something that'll make you feel a little more excited… if that's possible."
Carla opened her eyes, watching as Mike took the translucent tube and unraveled it. He was moving away from the small circle of yellow light illuminating the barrel and stool. Carla narrowed her eyes, trying to peer into the darkness surrounding Mike. She heard him fumbling around with something, still holding onto that tube. There was a whirring sound, quickly followed by the chugging of a small engine. Mike reappeared, wiping his hands against one another. At the same time, Carla felt something very odd in her cunt – a kind of strange movement of sorts. Air! Of course! Those tiny holes at the end of the dildo were letting out air in sharp, tiny pulses, the pressure provided by a compressor and fed into her cunt by the tube.
"Ah! I see you've figured it out," Mike said with satisfaction, puffing down his trousers, then hooking his fingers over the elastic waistband of his white cotton jockey shorts. "Feels good, doesn't it?"
It was like getting fucked by tiny cocks, each one touching a particularly sensitive spot in her cunt! Carla wanted to deny that feeling, ignore it, but that was impossible! The air jets were stoking her up higher, making her cuntal walls contract around the fat steel dick and milk it as if… as if it belonged to some human lover! The woman drove her body up and down, bouncing it on the dildo as if she were a merry-go-round horse.
Mike smiled, pleased he had worked her up to this level. Stepping from his trousers, the big man scratched his cock and balls, working his cock up to its full eight-inch length. When Carla opened her eyes again, she turned and saw Mike standing there in front of her, his eyes glittering with lust. She saw his cock, that cock he was going to ramrod down her throat. It made her swallow with fright as her eyes took in the full length and width of that thing. She would crack her jaws on it!
At the same time, Carla began to feel a kind of euphoria, a floating, good sensation as the beer shot through her bowels, bloating her flat stomach. Pulling up another stool, much higher than the one Carla was squatting on. Mike slid his legs over the top of the pillory. His cock bobbed invitingly in front of Carla.
Carla shook her head, turning her face from his prick. Mike stretched out his right hand, grabbing her hair and jerking her head up against his crotch with one fast move.
"I told you, you're going to listen to me each time I give you an order. Now you're gonna suck this dick if I've gotta pull out ill your fuckin' hair, understand, you Goddamned stupid bitch?" he shouted.
Carla was terrified. She nodded her head, whimpering as he let go of her hair.
"Now suck it, and suck it good. Any funny stuff like biting'll be rewarded, Carla."
She understood the threat. Nodding her head again, she moved forward tentatively. That movement caused her to raise herself off the steel dildo, making her cuntal juices flow that much more freely. Flicking out her tongue, she touched the tip of it against his blood-bloated cock.
Mike was holding the base of his cock with one hand, caressing her face with the other. The steady pumping air coming from the holes of the dildo seemed to be whistling inside her cunt now, pattering against her pussy walls, making her oh, so aroused! She began milking her small cuntal muscles around the dildo, working her ass slowly up and down the steel cock as she licked his prick. It had to be the beer, that awful beer still splattering in her asshole, filling her up as if she were some kind of balloon. There wasn't any more revulsion, no more hate. All Carla felt was a kind of relief, a joy as she started lapping at Mike's cock as if she were a kitten drinking milk.
Carla slowly started bouncing herself on the horrid thing, fucking herself, feeling the hardy slick nudging of the air-powered dildo gouging against the slick, velvety walls of her pussy. AL the same time, she flicked her tongue around the double-lobed cockhead, tasting the pre-cum oozing from the slit. It was all so beautiful, so wonderful – except the beer now flowing through her. She was about to burst. The liquid in her bowels was becoming violently uncomfortable. She would explode – or shit all over herself. As if Mike understood this, he bent over, turning off the nozzle and thus ending the flow of beer into her shitter. Carla sighed with relief, glad that at least one portion of her ordeal was over. Mike used both hands now against the sides of her skull, guiding her, forcing her to open her mouth fully and take in his prick.
"That's it… oh yeah, that's it, that's what I want, baby. Open that mouth and take it down all the way!"
Carla extended her tongue experimentally, sliding it back and forth over half the length of Mike's cock. He liked that a lot, his body shuddering while his fingers fanned out along the sides of her head. She felt his nails scratching the area just behind her ears while he began feeding her more and more of his fat, hat cock.
Her lips stretched thin like rubber bands, tight around his sinking prick. Carla kept on swallowing, her throat coating with cum as be began sliding his fuckrod in and out, in and out, his balls flattening against her upturned chin. Carla felt her stomach turning somersaults. But they weren't nauseating any longer. The woman had the feeling her entire body was floating in that wonderful sea of beer. As her pleasure built, the pain ebbed, making her suck on Mike's cock with more wild and enthusiastic abandon.
"Baby, that's it! Man, that's good head Carla! I haven't had a mouth on me like that for a long time," he groaned.
Carla was going at it strongly now, moving her head back and forth, her golden hair bouncing around her shoulders and throat. She could feel his fat cock head bouncing off the back of her throat, gagging her again and again while more fizz flowed from his piss-slit. What was more exciting was what was happening between her white, tightening thighs. More and more juice oozed from her pussyslit, making the dildo slide easily in and out of her fuzzy little fuckhole. Her muscles were cramping and cinching down now on that thing, milking it while her cuntal walk rumbled with excitement. Carla felt herself getting higher and higher. She didn't have anything any longer. The terror was gone for the moment. She bounced high on the rod, loving the pulsing jets of air that both stung and caressed. She began to acquire an erotic rhythm to her fucking, leaning forward slightly making sure he a rubbed up again her clit. At times she could feel jets of air spitting against that sex spindle. How she loved it! More and more juice frothed around the dildo, making a gleaming puddle around the steel base of the cock.
Carla was bouncing hard up and down now, her arms and legs pulling wildly against the dude. She threw herself against the pillory now, crazy with her own lust. She fucked harder and deeper, feeling the dildo rummaging around in her cunt. While she pranced her ass like a wild mare, Carla sucked down deep, her checks caving in, caressing the strong, thickly veined sides of the big stud's cock. She knew he was going to cum. Oh, yes, yes, she knew he was going to shoot his load down her throat soon! Carla could feel the urgency in the way he was jamming his prick into her mouth and down her throat.
Now he was holding her head, his fingernails scratching her face even more frantically while her nose flattened against his groin. His wiry crack hairs tickled her nostrils as he throated her! Oh God! It was almost like swimming underwater! Carla pulled away, fearing the jets of scalding cum would surely choke her. Mike awful dildo, but a man's cock! She groaned, her wrists struggling against the leather while Mike rubbed his prick up and down, up and down over her clit.
Carla felt her knees starting to hurt, the whip stripes from the belt throbbing as she leaned there against the table, chewing down on the rubber ball gag. Shaking the sweat from her forehead, the woman waited for the moment when Mike would slip his cock into her, spearing his prickmeat all the way down her cuntal mouth.
"Woah, baby! That cunt's hot, real hot! Maybe too hot for me, eh?"
With that, Mike slid his cock a little higher, ramming the hot, hard fucker right into her shitter.
No one, not even her husband had ever suggested fucking her in the ass! It was something queen did, she heard – not normal people. She jerked forward, the muscles bulging out along her arm, while her knees threatened to buckle. Carla twisted her hanging leg, tugging at the restraining rope while beating her tits against the workbench. No! No! This was asking too off her excitement a bit. But still there was enough to make the tiny muscles tingle and contract.
"This'll keep you spread open for my cock, baby."
You pig, you beast! she thought to herself, twisting her head around as much as she could, watching helplessly as the big stud reached for a rope hanging limply from the low overhead. Bracing her ankle on his left shoulder, Mike looped the line around her calf, cinching it tight with a double figure-eight knot. Stepping away, he watched as her leg remained pulled out from her body, forcing the woman to bend her left leg and lean forward, bracing herself against the table for better support.
Carla dropped her head, pressing her forehead against the leather cuffs holding her wrists together and against the workbench. Her leg stretched out that way hurt her terribly, the ache spreading from her thighs to her cunt, then into her belly. Mike rubbed his hot, hard prick over her pussy, letting his spongy cockhead rest against her clit. That was the magic moment, the instant when her tiny sex organ exploded once again. Touched by a cock! It wasn't that her with a red rubber ball, two long leather straps hanging from either end. She stared mutely at it, her eyebrows arched as she wondered what on earth he was going to do.
"This'll make you a little less loud. Sometimes," he said, taking the ball in his right hand while tugging her hair back with his left, "your screaming pisses me off."
Carla opened her mouth as he shoved the ball against her lips. She parted her jaws as far as they would go, a pain shooting through her cheeks. Mike shoved the gag past her front teeth, pushing in with his right two fingers until it rolled over her tongue and pressed against her back teeth. Carla swallowed hard, the filthy taste of the rubber ball making her wince. Laughing, he tied the two dangling straps together.
"Now, we spread 'em a little for my cock. Don't want you gettin' hurt."
Mike was gripping her right ankle, pulling her legs straight out from her body until it was horizontal to the floor. Carla felt the pulling tension unstick her cuntlips, forcing them apart, opening the deep red slick throat of her pussy to the air. Her last climax had taken the edge another shiver rush up and down her spine. He was right! In the throes of her own orgasm, Carla didn't really know if he had shot or not. She realized he had held back – held back for some devilish reason, no doubt. She pulled the door open, wondering what new horror he had in store for her.
He grabbed her hands again, examining her wrists, and noting with some approval her wrists weren't badly chafed.
"I don't like to bruise up the women – at least not on the first time. It's not much fun fucking around with a beat-up broad."
Carla thanked God for that, silently. Mike led her to a small workbench and told her to put her wrists together and down on one end of the table. There, attached to the wood was an L-shaped metal band, two leather wristcuffs bolted to the top and attached to the strip of steel. These Mike wrapped around the woman's wrists, fixing them tightly to the bench.
"I told you I haven't cum yet. This is gonna be my turn, bitch!"
The straps cinched tightly around her wrists, stopping the blood to her fingers. Carla winced, turning around only to see Mike approaching a moment the room was silent except for the heavy panting of both Mike and Carla, and the steady pumping sound of the compressor in the dark. As the woman began coming down from her high, she felt the beer starting to cramp her gut. She squeezed her assring around the enema nozzle, feeling the pleasure fading away as the pain of her overloaded ass started to take over all her sensation.
"Ohhhhhh, no, please, take it out! Oh God, don't keep it in!"
Mike got off the stool with maddening slowness. Carla was panting now from pain laced with the fear she would shit all over herself. He released her, and pointed to a small door at one end of the room. Forgetting her fear of the man for the moment, Carla raced to it, barely making the toilet. The explosion of the liquid content in her bowels was so powerful she felt another small orgasm sweep over her.
"What have I done to myself!" she wondered out loud.
She heard Mike's voice outside.
"You fall in? Come on. I haven't got all damned day? You're gonna be moving that ass for me, baby. I didn't cum, remember?"
Carla drew one hand to her face, feeling fought the frantic woman, pulling her head back down against his crotch, rubbing her nose in his prickhairs.
"Suck it down, bitch! Come on!"
It was getting to be too much for Carla! The shooting air in the dildo was pricking her higher and higher, making her lips tighten around his cock, making her bob from side to side, her body pierced again and again by that rutting dildo.
Carla moaned against Mike's cock, feeling her climax about to explode. The room was getting lighter, it seemed, as she squealed, her hips going wild. The woman bounced up and down, nudging her womb against the dildo while feeling her clit explode again and again. Her orgasm peaked like a thunderbolt, spasms of delight knifing through her again and again. She quivered there, hanging in the pillory, feeling the wild delight of cum shooting like lit sparklers through her body. Starting finally to comedown from her arousal, Carla felt she was too relaxed to keep the stiff position in the pillory she had maintained. That awful thing was in her all the way now, pushing aside all her hot, swollen cuntmeat, her juice sizzling around her ass. In much! She couldn't take this ass-ripping pain much longer!
"Right, baby! It hurts pretty fuckin' hard, don't it? Man, this is somethin' else! Take it, you fuckin' bitch! I'm gonna feel your shit on my cock. That's what you are, and that's what I'm gonna feel – shit!"
His words bit into her pride, shredding her as she clung there to the side of the bench. It felt as if her asshole were being torn from her butt, ripped apart by that awful cock! Her cunt contracted, blowing out another hot fart as the muscles cinched down on nothing.
Mike's hands were slapping her asscheeks now, his fingers stretching the white-striped flesh, prying her shitter open a little more for his fat cock. Carla tried shoving down and out much the same way she had pushed out against the beer enema, hoping somehow to reduce the pain. Why, oh why hadn't he fucked her in the pussy? She had wanted it there, had wanted to feel his cock spreading her apart, stretching her open while she was strapped there to the table. Instead, he was doing this awful thing!
"Oh man, tight! That's it, baby, move that ass while I stick my cock down it!"
Carla cried out, her groans muffled by the fat rubber ball. She felt as if her asshole were being torn to pieces by his fat cock. Her cunt almost cried out to feel his prickhead inside, the same cockhead now raping through her ass. She wanted to feel the hard, hot penetration in her pussy, not her shitter!
Carla let out another muffled cry, feeling the obscene slickness of his prick in her asshole. Mike let go of her hip. She could feel his hand now reach up to her tits, his fingers scratching over her nipples, pinching the tiny nubs as if they were about to tear them off. It was then Mike pulled back a few inches, then shoved down with a grunt.
It was tearing her in two! Carla felt the aching pain of his hard fuck reaching to all, points of her body! When, oh when would this horror end for her?
Carla bit down hard once again on the gagging rubber ball, the dick in her asshole stretching her assring more and more, until the woman thought she could feel her flesh tearing. Her asscheeks ached from the savage fuck, the pain spreading to her thighs and finally to her belly. Carla let out another cry, wondering just how much longer she would have to endure this before Mike finally sunk the length of his cock in her.
She cried hot tears, the drops streaking her flushed cheeks. He had both hands covering her nipples now, pinching them until Carla was certain he was about to tear them off. He purposely twisted and turned them to get more pain from the grip, making her cry out. The agony in her tits took her mind from her asshole, thus making the woman relax her shitter muscles. That was all Mike needed. With a shout, he shoved down and up, burying the full length of his prick in between her asscheeks. Carla's eyes widened, her nostrils flaring as she felt that horrid thing all the way in her body. A cock! A hard prick slipped all the way into her bowels! Her legs and arms spasmed from that sudden full insertion, the vulgar, outward-stretching sensation of her shitter shooting flashes of delight up to her brain.
Fucking, fucking! It had been something she had put from her mind after her husband's death. But now it hit her full force. Even now, with the abuse she had to endure, this was better than nothing. Yes, wonderful fucking, a delight to her as she stood there in that awkward position, her body bound to the bench and overhead rope.
Her body spasmed again. Mike was pulling his cock out of her asshole, holding onto her hips now. Carla bit down on the ball, swallowing more spit that threatened to drown her. She shoved out with her asscheeks, looking for some relief from the sensual sucking in her shit-chute.
How her right leg throbbed and hurt, pulled out from her body and roped to the overhead restraint. She tried twisting around, tugging at the bands keeping her wrists bound to the workbench. Nothing seemed to work. A sharp cramp knifed through her muscles, making her bite down on the rubber gag once more, her left knee bending somewhat to ease the strain on her legs. And still Mike fucked her ass, his hands slapping her asscheeks now, making loud, dry smacking sounds that mingled with Carla's moans.
"Oh baby, baby, it's gonna be something else once I get your daughter up here. If she's anything like you, I'm gonna have myself a fun time," Mike groaned, smoothing his hands aver the woman's asscheeks, then smacking her again, forcing more tears from her.
Carla was in agony, both in her assflesh and in her mind. She wrestled her body against his hands, feeling the pain from her shitter drive more heat into her crotch. The round, firm mounds of her ass flexed against his belly as if they were looking for more of that hot cock threatening to spilt her ass wide open.
Carla felt the sliding of his prick as it chugged deeper into her guts, sending hot, shivery thrills through her bowels. Again and again, Carla felt her ass filling with the big man's cock. It was like a steady, growing load of terrible heat. She thought, surely this would have to stop soon! Mike had aroused himself earlier with the belting and the sucking. Surely he would be close to cumming now, his cock was swelling to the point of bursting.
But still the big stud kept on fucking her, holding onto her hips and driving his prick in and out, in and out of her asshole. Her asscheeks flattened against his groin each time he shoved down and in. There were times when the woman thought he would knock her off balance, sending her crashing to the floor with her wrists and right leg still bound. Carla could imagine the pain of such a fall. Yet still he would be fucking her, drilling her ass with that fat prick while torturing her stiff nipples.
Mike stopped for a moment, smoothing his hands over her belly and tits, pinching the nipples until she sobbed through her rubber gag. And then it was back into her, his cock going deep. Carla inhaled sharply, her moans shuddering deep in her chest. It was as if her belly were about to explode in some terrible rutting fire, making her wish now he would keep fucking her in the ass! Yes, how strange it was, but the young woman was wanting more up her butt, more prickmeat stretching her, filling her, gouging against the walls of her bowels-as she clung to the bench.
"Baby, Carla… yeah, that's it… oh yeah, ol' Mike's gonna fuck the shit outta you, oh Christ, that's a fine, tight, hot ass! I'm gonna tear that thing open, fill it up with my jizz! Man, it's gonna pump the shit outta you when I cum!"
Carla shivered at the words. She felt him shoving back and forth, speeding up his cockstrokes until the woman thought her ass would catch fire. As the ramming length and speed of his fuckstrokes grew, Carla felt the sliding of her cuntlips against one another, milking nothing. It was the only disappointment – the wish she would have something fucking her pussy! How her ass burned and thrilled to Mike's cock! Now, if only he would stick something in her pussy, something that would take care of that feeling of wanting a prick rodding her there!
She shivered again, her shoulders shuddering as Mike began fucking her hard and fast, like a trip-hammer. Carla panted, her mind going blank. She was being fucked, fucked hard and brutally. But the way her cunt was reacting, the woman didn't care what happened in her ass. The hard, hot bar of his cockmeat shoved deep in her ass, then seemed to slow. Mike was giving her short, jerky thrusts in her ass, his hands clawing her, pawing her, scratching her thighs, tearing at her as she hung there in that painful, awkward position.
"Oh yeah, gonna do it now, Carla, gonna do it now!" Mike cried.
The kink of her bowel lining hurt her terribly. She felt her asshole lining about to tear loose, the sensation accelerating the vulgar thrills shooting from her ass. At the same time, Carla could feel her clit ready to explode again. Just the shivers of delight radiating from her shitter were enough to bring the nub to excitement. Carla danced her ass around, the jiggling weight of her bouncing asscheeks adding to the sensations coming from her cunt. She wanted it all to happen at once – the juicing feeling in her cunt, the hot, dry throbbing in her ass – everything to explode like a bomb while Mike fucked her.
He grunted behind her, his cock pulling out, sucking her guts down. Only the head of his cock stayed in her asshole. Carla could feel his thick cockhead tugging at the lining of her shitter, urging her insides out. She hunched her ass back and forth in fast, prancing strokes.
"Want it that bad, eh? Man, you were screaming your head off before. Now you can't keep that ass quiet, right Carla?"
She was shaming herself again. Carla knew that. But the woman couldn't stop herself. His hands were mashing her tits now. Her face hit the table until she could feel bruises rising on her forehead. But Carla ignored all that. All she could do was concentrate on her asshole – concentrate, concentrate, until she felt spurting fire in her ass. Oh, he was cumming, shooting his load, filling her shitter with his fiery spunk! Carla screamed, cinching her eyes shut, biting down on the ball until she thought she would tear it in half! Mike stroked one hand down her belly, touching her cunt, rubbing his callused fingertip over her cunt. That was all she needed.
It was a powerful climax, one that sent lightening bolts of searing heat through her clit again and again. Carla's mind shattered while her body trembled against the workbench. Again and again, the blonde tried tearing her hands and ankle from their bonds, her body twisting and writhing against Mike's. He held onto her, half-mounting her like a dog in heat, his cock still buried deep in her ass as he unloaded his balls.
"Christ! Man, baby, go for it! Come on, blow it out, cum with me!"
She wished she could die at this point, die in rutting shame while her climax blew through her like a hurricane. But the throbbing, keen pleasure that hurt kept her conscious and alive. Soon the delightful spasms passed, leaving her dangling from the bench, her right leg hurting her terribly. Mike slid his cock from her ass.
Still having her eyes closed, Carla shook her head wildly from side to side. She wanted that cock to stay in her ass until the whole unnatural process of her climax was over. She was still spasming, still feeling the rumblings of cumming deep in her pussy. But Mike was slipping his softening prick from her asshole. Carla wept. His wide cockhead slipped out, puffing with it strings of his hot jizz. She could feel it dribbling down the back of her left leg.
Mike braced himself against her, catching his breath before reaching up and taking her right leg from the rape. She groaned with relief, rubbing her knees together while stretching the cramped, aching muscles of her thighs. Next came the straps around her wrists, then the rubber ball.
"Oh God, God, what've I done?" Carla gasped, sinking to the floor. She crossed her arms over her tits, hugging her body tightly while covering her mouth with her trembling fingers.
"I expect to see your daughter Krystal here within the week. You can come up too, to help her through," Mike said, chucking her under the chin. "But Krystal will be here, or, trust me, you won't be able to watch your back closely enough."
Carla shivered, staring up at his determined eyes. She knew he was telling the truth.
"Mother! Don't worry. I'll be all right," Krystal said, shrugging away from Carla's attentive fingers. "I didn't want to go to this creepy old school anyway. But that's what you said I had to do. So, here I am."
Carla looked up at the forbidding building, wishing there were some way she could prevent her daughter from going. As soon as she had escaped from the administrative building one week ago, she had vowed not to send her daughter to this hellhole. But there were phone calls, even a visit from Mike one, afternoon at a local supermarket. He was having her followed, bothered, until she relented. The police were out of the question. There would be so many questions. Inevitably, Mike would tell them everything she had done – how she had enjoyed the fucking, how she had encouraged him to do those awful things to her. Yes, she might protect her daughter. But at a terrible price.
Carla kept thinking there would be some way she could intervene. Perhaps she would convince Mike to use her and not her daughter for his games.
She had conveniently forgotten, however, the sullen, beaten looks of the few girls she had seen at the school. Their uniforms were neatly pressed and they were well-dressed, she remembered. But there wasn't the joy, the exuberance one would expect from girls their age.
"I know what I wanted. But now I'm not so sure," Carla said hesitantly, watching as her daughter moved in front of her. She was so young, no matter how well her body was developed. That was why she had sent her here. All the boys were staring at her, calling her. It was only a matter of time before someone "tried" something with Krystal. Perhaps strict schooling for some time would give her the sense of discipline she never had as a child. Discipline, yes. But this?
"I might as well go in. I – oh, who's that? He's handsome!" Krystal cooed.
It was Mike coming from the building. Inside, Carla could hear a school bell clanging. She looked up at the stud, seeing in his eyes the glow of a mocking triumph. She remembered the bite of his leather, the crush of his foot, the sneering, the laughter, the fucking! It all came back to her in a rush, and Carla nearly grabbed her daughter and threw her back in the car. Only that warning glance from Mike prevented her from doing anything.
"So, this is Krystal," he said, eyeing her mother. "She's just like you, Mrs. Henniger. You two could be sisters."
Carla knew they could. More than once the two had been mistaken for sisters. Krystal was five-three, slender, with long, strong legs she had developed through swimming at the local country club pool. Her whitish blonde hair fell in lustrous strands around her narrow shoulders while her firm, young tits jutted invitingly upward from her chest. Her boyish waist, the jaunty way she walked, the way she carried her head – everything spoke of a young girl about to become a young woman. Carla trembled for her daughter, knowing the girl would be in Mike's hands. But what could she do?
"Come with me, Krystal. I want to show you around here for a moment. Your mother'll come in to say good-bye in a while."
Krystal looked over her shoulder, shrugging, then following him in, dragging her two suitcases behind her.
"You can leave them in there." Mike said. "Mrs. Evans, will you take them to Krystal Henniger's room?"
A tall, severe-looking woman nodded sharply, eyeing the teen and making her feel uncomfortable for the first time since she had arrived in front of this place.
"We pride ourselves on discipline," Mike began, leading her down a corridor. There were small groups of girls walking quickly together, their heads bent down. Krystal frowned, looking at then, wondering why they wouldn't look up at her. Most girls she knew would be dying of curiosity to see who the new person in school was. Krystal hesitated in her step, wishing she could go back, pick up her bats from that old witch in the office, and rush back to her mother's car.
"We have a full academic program here, of course. All the girls are schooled to pass the state's exams. But above all things, Krystal, discipline."
He stopped in front of a door. The glass window had been frosted, making it impossible for her to peer inside.
"Let's go in. We have to get you your… uniform."
Before she could say a word, Krystal found herself thrust into the small room, the door slammed shut behind her and locked. She found herself alone in the tiny area, bare except for a single chair. Wheeling about, she reached don and rattled the doorknob. Locked! Locked in! She drew her hands to her lips, trembling. The room was cold, making her flesh pucker into goosepimples. She remembered now the fear in her mother's eyes, the sense of regret in her voice. Her mother had known something was wrong here, something bad was happening. And yet she let her enter this building! What was going on?
Minutes passed. Sitting on the chair, not daring to make a sound, Krystal tried to compose herself. She had to remain calm. Perhaps all her foreboding thoughts were silly. They did things differently here, that was all. In time she would get used to it. Besides, nothing lasts forever. She would be out of here soon, no matter what.
Footsteps! She stood up from the chair, composing herself once more as the door opened. Mike was back with another woman.
"This is Linda," he said with a nod.
Krystal acknowledged the pretty dark-haired older woman.
"She'll be handling you for a while until I return."
Mike left the room again. It was then Krystal really looked at Linda – a tall, attractive woman who moved with assurance and strength.
"Mike thought you might be a little shy at this for the first time. Undress now and leave your things on the chair. You won't be needing them, so I'll take care of them for you."
Krystal shook her head, not believing she had heard the order correctly. Undress? What kind of place was this? She had carefully chosen her wool outfit this morning, feeling she would wow the girls at school. And now this worn was telling her to undress?
"I said, take off your clothes. Don't disobey me, young lady, or you'll have a bad time paying for it!" she snapped.
Krystal flushed. She didn't simply undress for anyone.
Linda grew tired of her hesitation, and smacked her sharply across the face, backhanding the teen quickly. Krystal didn't have time even to cry out, so unexpected was the attack. She staggered to one side, jerking up a hand to protect her cheeks. How they burned from the attack! Krystal felt tears of pain and indignation welling up in her eyes.
"Don't… don't touch me like that!"
"Then you'll do as I say. There's more where that came from if you don't hurry," Linda threatened.
Krystal blinked back the tears, fumbling as she began stripping herself.
"That's better," Linda said with satisfaction. Krystal still hesitated with her bra and panties, taking a long time draping her blouse and skirt neatly over the chair. "Everything," Linda said, indicating her panties and bra with a sweeping gesture. Krystal reddened even more, pulling down her briefs, feeling terribly exposed while Linda smirked at her growing discomfort.
"I don't see why you're so worded about showing yourself off, Krystal," she said, taking the bra and panties and laying them carefully on the chair.
Krystal was humiliated, standing there, cupping her hands over her pussy mound.
"You've got a fine body… nearly as fine as mine. I'm glad you're that well-endowed," Linda said. "It'll make things a little easier for you here."
"You'll find out. Now, please turn and put your hands behind your back."
Krystal obeyed, her bare feet starting to ache from having stood on the concrete floor for so long. She did as she was told. When she turned around she saw Linda had produced a fourteen inch length of cord.
With experienced fingers, Linda looped the line around Krystal's wrists and bound them firmly together. The girl gasped, her eyes widening as she bent over and tried to move her hands apart. What was going on? Again, she asked that question, trying to pull her wrists from one another. They were tying her up. For what reasons? She wasn't a prisoner! Her mother would see her in this condition and demand she be released. There had to be some horrible mistake.
"Now, you'll come with me."
Krystal had known discomfort and embarrassment before. But nothing like this!
Linda gripped her bare arm, opened the door and pushed her back into the hall. Krystal was terrified of meeting others in the hall. But it was deserted. The girls must be in class – or worse, she thought, wondering if they all had gone through this terrible initiation. Linda led her down another hall, this one far larger than the first. They stopped in front of an oak door with the words "Director of Scholastic Administration" embossed in the wood. Linda reached forward, pushing it open.
"Step inside. I think you'll find your mother there."
It was a comfortable study, luxuriously furnished. Krystal was mortified. There, sitting stiffly in a chair was her mother. Mike was sitting behind an ornate desk, a pleasant smile of welcome on his face. Carla let out a cry of horror, then tried to control herself as Mike gestured her to be quiet.
Krystal felt herself become one big blush as she was positioned before Mike's desk. With three pairs of eyes fixed on her, she fought the natural urge to shrink and cry. What was going on here? Why had her comfortable little world been shattered this cruelly? And for what reason?
"I see you've been prepared for school. This is our uniform – for the novices, anyway, until they've been indoctrinated. Your mother approves. She feels you need some discipline before you go out into the world. I, in turn, agree." Mike smiled at her.
"Mother, what's going on here? Why did you send me here?"
"Enough of that!"
Linda pulled a large white handkerchief from her pocket, flicked it open, then slipped it around the girl's mouth. Krystal screamed, her cries muffled by the cotton as Linda tied it tightly around her head. Carla stood to protest. But again, Mike gestured for her to be seated.
Krystal felt panic gripping her heart like an icy finger, her toes curling into the carpeting as she stood there bound and gagged before the small group.
"People have different ideas about discipline. I, for one, believe in the firmest use of it. Your mother's experienced some of my methods and approves of them, right Carla? It might happen that later on she can participate in some of them."
Carla wanted to scream. But for the sake of her daughter she kept quiet, scratching her fingernail against the arm rest and wondering how she could rescue her daughter without creating a scandal.
"If you behave you'll find you can wear the uniforms to class. Otherwise, you'll stay as you are now – bound and naked. Is that clear?"
Krystal felt as if he were pronouncing a death sentence on her. Discipline? This was the discipline of the Nazi concentration camps! Once more, Krystal tried working the bonds from her wrists. But her movements were only making the chafing sensation worse.
"Now, you'll go with Linda. Carla, I think you can go home now. Your daughter's in fine hands."
It was the last thing she heard her mother say for a long time. Linda led her from the study quickly, pushing her down the corridor. Three more girls shuffled past, one of them as naked as she. The tall redhead shot her a sympathetic glance, then moved her eyes back to the floor. Krystal stumbled hurriedly, trying to keep pace with Linda.
"Now, you go into the Training Room. Mike's provided a program tailored to most girls' needs. I think you'll find this interesting."
It was a maze of halls, none of them having windows to the outside. Krystal looked around her frantically, feeling as if she had fallen into some private hellish nightmare from which she would never waken. More girls passed her, no one daring to look up. Then they came to another door, this one metal with studs all around the outside. Linda opened it, shoving the teen through.
It was a large room. Widely spaced posts rose from the floor to the low ceiling. Against one of them, Krystal saw another teen bound, her body naked. The girl looked at them briefly, then returned her gaze to a short brunette who was also naked and was sobbing audibly. There were red marks on her sides and tummy, indications that someone had been beating her.
Linda shoved her against a pillar, encircling Krystal's waist with a strap, cinching it tightly. The "guard", as Krystal was to think of her later, took off the handkerchief and wiped her lips with it.
"There. You don't have to look so worried, Krystal. That's a very pretty name," Linda said, smoothing two fingers over the girl's tits.
Krystal shivered, her back hurting from being pressed so hard against the pillar. The sobbing of the other girl grew worse, making Krystal nervous as she felt Linda's hands caressing her.
Maybe it was because she was so afraid, or perhaps it was because of a certain look in Linda's eyes that triggered something dark inside her, but Krystal began feeling a kind of odd excitement rising in her. Linda could see it too and licked her lips, drawing closer to her.
Linda's errant hand was moving down pest her navel, caressing the fine downy hairs covering her white flesh, then reaching down into her cuntal hair. Krystal shuddered, rubbing her hands against her thighs, wanting to protest, but unable to find the words. Her flesh seemed to be covered with hundreds of prickly ants, her cunt lips starting to swell and moisten.
"I… I don't know what you're doing to… to me, but stop!"
Linda was about to speak. But she as interrupted by Mike's sudden appearance.
"Your mother left. She'll join us, perhaps, later on in your training."
"I've taken care of her, Mike. She's tied well to the post."
"Well, maybe, but not well enough. Not for someone, new to the school and its ways. Let me finish," he said, taking more cord from Linda and moving behind the trembling blonde teen. "Oh, no, no, don't touch me! You're hurting me!" Krystal cried.
It was a horrid nightmare. She felt the line drawn under her armpits and up over her shoulders, crossed behind her and knotted tightly. Krystal found herself held firmly, her shoulders wrenched back so that the cords bit deep and burned each time she sucked in a breath.
"Uhhhh, it's so… so tight!"
"As I hope you are, Krystal."
"I think she's a virgin. You want me to find out?" Linda asked, the corners of her lips curling into a broad smile.
"Yes. Why don't you do that? Krystal might think I was doing something offensive if I reached in to check her cherry!"
"No! No! Don't touch me there! Oh, it's not right! It's just not right!" she screamed, feeling Linda's fingers caressing her pussy, forcing the smooth pink lips apart and probing deep into her cuntal channel. Krystal reddened, sensing Linda's finger corkscrewing up her pussy, her fingernail scraping her cuntal walls until it touched her tight little cherry.
"She's virgin, alright," Linda said, her voice nearly breathless with excitement.
"Good! At least you aren't one of the incorrigibles we have here, girls who've prostituted themselves to every boy in town before coming here," Mike said, stroking her hair caringly.
He moved around, tightening the ropes, which made her tits stick out more provocatively. He grabbed her wrists and pulled them taut behind the post where he securely roped them with a slipknot so Krystal couldn't move them at all. Next came her ankles, Linda bending down and cording them with two firm bands encircling both ankles. One leg was placed on either side of the post, enhancing her exposure.
Krystal tried to move away from the post, easing the strain of the ropes against her body. But any kind of twist caused her more pain. In the end, she submitted, vowing to look for some kind of escape just as soon as she could.
"Now, I think we've done our job for the moment," Mike said, stepping back to admire his handiwork.
The two bound girls looked mutely at one another, companions in this mutual misery. School? Krystal could have laughed with wild derision at that thought. It was no more a school than San Quentin?
"Hurts, does it?" Linda said, stroking the side of Krystal's cheek.
"Yes. Why are you doing this to me? I haven't done anything."
"Oh, but you have, or your mother wouldn't have dreamed of sending you here," Linda countered, smacking her playfully on the ass.
Krystal winced, her buttocks jiggling from the slap.
"Besides with all the craziness going on out there in the world, a little bit of discipline certainly doesn't hurt. Your mother was a wise woman sending you here," Linda observed.
"What are you going to do to me now?" Krystal asked, her voice barely a whisper. She hated to ask the question, fearful of the answer. But not knowing was worse.
"That's up to Mike. He's put the program together for us and you. I imagine there'll be some whipping," Linda said, rubbing the back of her hand over Krystal's pussy. The girl shivered again.
"Whipping?" Krystal wailed. "But…"
"That's the way we train our girls. When you get out of here, you'll be fully prepared for the outside world," Linda said firmly.
Krystal bit her lower lip, watching as Mike pulled off his shirt, revealing his muscular torso and hairy chest. Krystal trembled, Linda's words echoing in her head. Whipping? Discipline? Would this end? She struggled against the bonds one more time, feeling the ropes cutting her belly.
The big stud was unhitching a small riding crop from a wooden hook in the wall. He tested its balance, swishing it in the air, always keeping his eyes on the trembling blonde teen.
Krystal wanted to scream for help, but managed to say quietly: "Please, no… don't touch me with that thing. I promise I'll be good."
"You say that now, but you'd change after we left you. No," he said, shaking his head with a smile, "you'll have to go through the program like all the other girls."
"No… I… aiyyyeeeeee!"
Without cocking his arm, he lashed one end of the crop savagely across Krystal's belly. The girl let out a shriek, her eyes bugging out as she jerked hard against the ropes. Never, never had she felt anything like that before in her life! Her tummy burned from the savage attack, her muscles tightening until they cramped from the effort. Moving up, he rubbed the leather against her cheek, watching her eyes pop out, her head twitching from side to side as if she had palsy. Then with another blow he slashed the crop across her left cheekbone.
The force of the blow snapped her head to the right, making her neck muscles hurt from the strain. Krystal was completely adrift, unsure of what to think, of what to do. She was terror stricken. And all the while, that horrid crop was beating her, making her cry out with pain. Prom behind her she could hear the other girl cry out in sympathy. Linda barked out a command and the sobbing stopped. Three of them, trussed up like this, and all waiting for the beat of that crop against their bodies!
Mike moved behind the post, seeing how her asscheeks spread out against it. Cocking his right arm back, he brought the riding crop down hard on her right asscheek, watching with unconcealed delight as the white flesh quickly turned red then purple. A small welt formed as Krystal let out another sobbing groan. She moved her wrists against one another, trying to force the ropes apart. All she was doing was chafing her skin badly. Mike brought down the crop a second, then a third, then a fourth time against her asscheeks, making them jiggle, crisscrossing them with long red marks and welts. Krystal howled banging her head against the post, yammering for help. Tears blinded her as she twisted and bounced against the wooden pillar behind.
Mike was warming to the work. He moved in front of the girl once more, jerking the crop down hard against her right nipple. It was as if someone had torn the nub from her tit with one blow. Krystal let out another hellish scream, the muscles bulging against her flesh. Grinding her teeth, hating them all bitterly, she felt the pain in her belly and tits throb like a raw wound.
Screwing her face into a mask of twisted hurt, Krystal slowly gained control over herself.
"Well, do you have anything to say for yourself, Krystal? Do you enjoy having this done to you? Are you starting to know the meaning of discipline?"
"Discipline? This isn't any school! You're just a bunch of sick people hurting me and the others just for your own pleasure," she blurted out.
"Hurting others, eh?" Mike said, amused by her defiance. "I like that spunk. Your mother had it. You know, your mother was the same way. She never gave in, even though I could see she was enjoying it."
"My mother? You did this to my mother?" Krystal sputtered.
"Not exactly the same thing," Mike confessed. "But close enough. Now we're going to see just how much the two of you are alike."
Krystal sagged in her bonds. Her mother! Her mother had sold her out to this man! And now she had to suffer for it! All those tears in the office. Guilt, perhaps. But not the love she thought she had.
"Bitch! Just like your mother. A bitch whore, one who needs to be taught lessons."
Mike lashed out again, nearly peeling a narrow strip of flesh from Krystal's right tit. The girl writhed with the pain of the blows. She felt the warm, sticky sweetness of her perspiration trickling along her belly. Her belly button filled with the sweat, then let it trickle down into the top of her cuntal fur. Mike looked at her, licking his lips. He remembered the mother and wondered if the daughter was half as good.
Jabbing the blunt end of the crop into her belly, he knocked the wind from her, twisting the end around and around, reddening her flesh from the friction. "Yes, you'll be fine. Just like your mother was – a whore's whore."
With that, Mike reached down and grabbed a fistful of her cuntal hair, twisting the fur and her outer labes in his fist. The tearing sensation ripped through the girl like a blunt knife. She tried jerking her legs out, tried tearing her arms from the bonds, screaming at the big man who was driving this awful pain through her again and again. When she yammered too loudly, Mike lashed the crop over her face, her lips, the taps of her tits. Krystal couldn't tell where he was beating her any longer. It was all so painful. She felt her hands going numb as the nerves bruised. Again, the girl screamed at him, dragging out curses she couldn't remember having heard.
As hard as Krystal tried to control herself, she only brought more pain to herself. The ropes cut her severely when she twisted so much. When she rose upward, the strokes of the crop crossed her nipples, burning into the tips like flaming sulfur.
"I think you're becoming aroused – just like your mother did. The more pain, the more pleasure. She found that out soon enough. And so will you," Mike said.
Krystal knew, on seeing that look he wore, that he was telling the truth. Oh, how she hated him! How, she hated her mother!
"Oh stop it, stop it! I can't take this any more! Please, oh please, don't, don't do this to me any more! You're hurting me!"
Krystal screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice hurting as the sound shrilled through the large room. The other girls began sobbing louder, twisting about as they watched the young teen tortured by the whip.
"Hurts, does it?" Mike said, a savage smile twisting across his lips.
"No, don't, no more! No more!"
"Take her down!"
Linda pulled the ropes off roughly, pushing Krystal from the post. The girl stumbled forward, throwing her arms in front of her for support. Linda grabbed one roughly, twisting it back and up, pressing her knuckles against the small of her back while forcing her down onto the ground. The resulting pain in her upper arm made the teen think it was broken.
"You'll move here the way we want you to move," Linda said, jerking the girl's other arm around and holding her wrists together. "Now keep them that way."
Krystal knew it was hopeless to fight back. She bowed her head, her long hair curtaining her face as the woman wrapped a cord around her wrists, binding them together.
"Now, crawl across the floor… now!"
Krystal felt Linda's shoe kick her in the ass, pushing her down onto the floor face-first.
"I said crawl! This isn't your damned bed!"
Krystal struggled to her knees, still keeping her head bowed low. She began walking forward, the concrete floor hurting her terribly. She slid past the post to which she'd been bound earlier, past one of the roped teens, then finally to Mike. Reaching down, he grabbed her hair, jerking her head up. Krystal groaned as he snatched the strands from her scalp. All she could think of now was ending this horrible session and getting back to a room where she could hide.
"You're over here now, baby. Stand up so we can finish your first lesson!"
Over! Thank God, it was going to be aver! Almost letting out a cry of joy, Krystal braced herself against the big man, forcing herself to her feet. She stood there in front of him, knowing his eyes were raping her. Krystal fought back the tears and fear, knowing full well Mike was going to rape her some time while she was at this "school". She prayed to God it wouldn't be tonight. No, not tonight, not after all this horror.
"You look a little dirty after your ordeal, Krystal. I think maybe you need something to clean you off before you go back to your room and think about what happened today."
Krystal wasn't sure what they were talking about. But she could see from their sneers it would be horrible. Mike grabbed her by the throat, wheeling her around, his fingers bruising her flesh. Krystal felt icy panic grip her heart. She could hardly breathe, her feet seemed to give out beneath her as he pushed her back into the room. Behind her, Krystal could hear the others again, crying out for Mike to stop it as he strangled the teen.
He let go, Krystal falling against something very hard and very cold. Turning her head about, she noticed it was, a tub of some sort.
"Now, up we go."
His hands were on her again, rolling her into the tub, forcing her into a collapsed heap. Krystal shuddered, her flesh turning blue and breaking out into goosepimples. The cracked porcelain surface was terribly uncomfortable. Stretching out both legs, uncurling them, the girl twisted around until her spine was pressed against the curved back of the old-fashioned washtub. The backs of her calves shuddered as she waited far Mike to work his worst on her. He was standing by the side of the tub now, grinning at her. Linda was nowhere to be seen. Some louder screams from the front of the room told Krystal that Linda was busy with one of the other girls for the moment.
He reached down, opened his trousers and pulled out his cock. Krystal drew back, staring up at him, her mouth opened in wonder. Mike held his cockhead in one hand, rolling it from finger to finger, enjoying the scene as Krystal squirmed uncomfortably under the shadow of his fat fucker.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
"Your final lesson for the day, like I said, Krystal. You don't believe me?"
Was he going to make her fuck him? Was he going to make her, oh God in heaven, suck him? She shrank back, her small shoulders shuddering while the long red tips on her tits became stiff and hot from the surrounding porcelain. All sorts of thoughts raced through her head as she waited for Mike to make his move.
"Gotta piss, you know? I've been working all this time with you and haven't had a chance to go to the john. You understand what I'm talking about, Krystal?"
"Please, don't hurt me."
It was the only thing she could think of, feeling the ropes cutting into her wrist flesh again. He was bracing his knees just under the lip of the washtub now, a strange expression on his handsome face. Krystal focused her attention on his cock once more and noticed a clear drop appearing on his piss-slit. Another appeared and at that point the teen realized what he was going to do to her. She screamed, kicking her bare feet against the side of the tub, twisting around just as the yellowish stream cascaded over her tummy.
"No! God, God, that's sick! Stop it! Don't do that to me!"
Mike only laughed at her horror, his piss now a twisting thick yellowish stream spattering over her whip-scarred flesh. Krystal gagged, able to smell the stink of his urine already. She could hear some of it gurgling down the drain around her feet as she kicked and flailed against the sides of the tub. She could feel the hot, oily stream washing over her belly, then trickling into the thick blonde bush of her cunt before spattering onto her thighs. Pissed on! It had to be the ultimate humiliation! She shivered with revulsion, blinking her eyelids rapidly as Krystal felt the sour phlegm rising in her throat. It was then Mike stopped, flicking several droplets against her face. The girl spread her legs as far apart as she could, lifting her ass, trying to keep her body away from the filthy, piss-stained tub floor. The last of it finally trickled down the drain. Krystal heaved a sigh of relief. Now perhaps he would let her go.
"Don't go anywhere," he cooed, leaning against the tub again and starting to piss on her once more.
Krystal at this point wished she were dead. She bit her lips to keep from screaming with frustration and rage. The thin, hot yellowish spray stung her nipples, slicked through the valley between her tits, then stained her belly once again. She jerked her head around the moment she felt his piss beating against her chin.
"No, you're not cooperating, Krystal. You're going to be here all night. And I thought you were making such good progress for a novice."
"No, not there, not in my mouth!"
Mike backhanded her twice, knocking her head against the side of the tub. There were more slaps across the side of the face until Krystal finally came around. At that moment, she would have sold her mother to Satan to stop the painful beating. Mike nodded with approval, jerking her head back.
"Now, open those pretty lips. I wanna see that mouth, Krystal. Do as you're told."
His voice was calm, only the slightest tremor betraying just how excited he was. Krystal closed her eyes, taking in a deep, panting breath. Her tits slapped together as she squirmed on the piss, and did as she was told. It was just when he began to piss once more that Krystal realized her cunt was tingling. The pissing scene, to her amazement, was starting to arouse her!
"Now, open your eyes and look right at me. Yes, that's the right way."
The piss started again. Mike was directing the stream along her chin, then moving it up until it was shooting into her mouth.
Just think of it as milk, Krystal said to herself, closing her throat to the awful stuff. She tried not to breathe, not to smell the pungent urine as more and more of it splashed into her mouth, swirled over her teeth, then dribbled out down the sides of her chin to the tub. When Mike struck her on the back, she found herself swallowing some of the piss, gagging and choking on the horrid taste. He laughed, spraying the piss on her eyes, her nose, her lips once more. Krystal gagged again, falling back, wallowing in the filth as he finished with the act.
"Hot, Krystal? You want to do something about it?"
How could he know? How could he possibly know about her dreadful arousal? It was shaming her as she lay there, her cunt afire, her body covered with urine. What kind of man would want her now, in this dreadful state? At that point, Linda moved to the other side of the tub, peering in and smirking at her.
"What happened to the pretty little Miss?" she asked mockingly. "It looks like you've fallen from the pedestal your mother put you on. We'll have to take care of that."
"Wash her up," Mike ordered, tucking his cock back in. "Then take her to my quarters."
His quarters? She thought it would be all over!
"No! Please, you said I could go back! Please, lemme go back! Oh, God, don't… don't do this to me!"
"Here, you won't need these for a while," Linda said more gently now that Mike had gone, reaching down and puffing the rope from her wrists. Krystal noticed the change in her voice, the softening of her manner, and she almost cried.
"Oh, oh, he did terrible things to me!" she sobbed, rubbing her freed wrists together while staring around the tub. "He… he pissed on me and then… and then he made me… made me drink some of it!"
Krystal gagged at the thought, wishing there were a fountain or a washbasin she could rinse her mouth in.
"I know. It's almost the standard bill of fare for all new girls. You'll get used to it. Now we have got to get you cleaned up, or I'll lose my job."
Linda helped her from the tub, taking her by the hand. Krystal noticed the others were gone now, the bonds hanging open and limp from the supporting columns. The girl shuffled from the large room, sweeping the hair from her eyes, feeling dirtier than ever. Linda led her to a small white-tiled shower room. Krystal turned on the hot water and scrubbed her body well, wanting to stay there the rest of the day.
"You're stalling, Krystal. Believe me, Mike'll notice that and make you pay dearly for it."
She knew Linda was right. Turning off the water, the young teen dried, handing the towel reluctantly back to Linda. She knew the rules – no clothes, complete nakedness. They walked back to the main office. Krystal wasn't about to stop there, but Linda pushed her forward.
It was a strangely narrow room, the walls paneled with yellow pine. Walking nervously inside, Krystal turned around only to see the door close behind her. Thank goodness it was warm. There were two benches in front of her and on one of these she sat down, waiting for God only knows what.
"I see you've washed up. Good. I don't like fooling around with someone who smells like a pig sty." It was Mike. He was bare-chested.
"Are you going, going to fuck me?" Krystal asked hesitantly, the awful word still sounding strange coming from her mouth.
"That depends. I hear you're a virgin. That's a messy business. But then again, it can be fun for both of us," Mike said, playing with her hair.
"I don't want it," Krystal whispered, shying away from his touch.
"Here, what you want doesn't count for shit, Krystal," Mike said with a laugh.
The girl winced at the thought, knowing he was right. He could slap her down, knock her legs apart and fuck her right there. But something told her he had something much more intense planned for her.
"Lie down," he said, pushing the two benches tightly together.
"Are you going to tie me up again?"
"I just don't trust you yet, Krystal. Besides, this can be more fun when you're all tied up. You'll find that out soon enough."
She did as she was told, watching as Mike drew her arms back and slightly down. Something the teen hadn't noticed earlier were leather straps bolted to the squat legs of the two benches. These he slipped around her wrists, making certain the material wasn't touching the already reddened areas of her flesh.
"You were fighting your bonds too much, Krystal. Thai's not good. All you'll do is injure yourself. And we don't want that to happen, do we?"
Krystal had so much loathing, so much hatred for Mike she could have exploded with it. Instead she did nothing, testing the bonds, finding she couldn't raise her shoulders.
"Now for the legs."
Next, Krystal felt a strap cinching tightly around her small waist, holding her more firmly to the benches. When Mike walked down to the end of the second bench, she followed him with rounded, terrified eyes. He turned, looking down at his prisoner speculatively, then moved around and fixed long buckled straps to two rings bolted into the wall some six feet above the floor. Instinctively, Krystal knew what was going to happen, squirming her ass against the splintery wood. So when Mike took her right ankle, held it against his chest, then jerked it up until her toes brushed against the wall, Krystal wasn't surprised.
The strap fitted tightly around her ankle, drawing her leg well away from the centerline of her body. Next came the other leg, similarly drawn to a wall and roped to that buckled strap. Now Krystal could understand the reason for that narrow room. It was ideal for the straps that controlled her legs. Mike now pulled carefully on the benches – first one leg, then the other, until they stood out rigid at almost right angles to Krystal's strapped body. Slightly raised, they supported the weight of her haunches so that when Mike pulled the lower bench from under Krystal's ass, its position didn't change. The only difference was that now it hung suspended past the rest of the bench to which the rest of the teen was strapped.
"Ohhhh no, no! Oh God in heaven, not so tight! It's tearing me in two!"
Mike ignored her cries, running his fingers up and down the ridged legs and thighs of the young teen. He shook his head.
"No. It's not enough. I'm going to tighten it just a bit. I don't want you to move even in the slightest," he said.
The pulling agony was awful! There were moments when Krystal thought her arms and legs would be pulled off. She sobbed and pleaded as each of her ankles was drawn out another notch in, the strap. The pain shot through her like a ragged saw. In a panic, the teen struggled. But she found that only part of her could move even a fraction of an inch. Trapped like this – trapped, and not able to do so much as move a muscle!
"No, no, this is awful! Please, don't do this to me! Oh God, don't!"
"You're really stretched wide, you know? I can see right down into your cunt. You can't close your lips, can you, baby?"
Krystal stopped her twisting for a moment, realizing at this point that Mike was standing right in front of her. He was looking into her pussy, stroking his cock through his trousers. That was it! He had had her roped this way, and was going to fuck her! She flushed beet-red, watching his lips smack together.
"You're really nice, baby. Good ass, good way you move! You're going to fit right in here at the school."
"Uhhhhh, please take me down! Oh, it's hurting me so!"
"This should take care of it!"
Mike had whipped out his cock, stroking it hard. Once more, Krystal had a chance to see his prick. But now it was far bigger, far longer and thicker than it had been when he was pissing on her. He stroked its sides, greasing it down with his pre-cum, licking his lips as the girl struggled on the bench under him. No, no! This couldn't be happening! She had always been a good girl, just like her mother had always wished. She had never thought about doing this with a man until lately. And now… and now the man who was supposed to care for her was going to fuck her. Again, Krystal felt a rush of hatred for her mother as she thought of how Carla had led her to this hellhole.
"Now we're going to have some fun again. You're going to lose your cherry and finally become a woman. That's what school's about – growth!"
She felt his fingers on her thighs, the nails scratching them as he dropped his trousers completely and braced himself against her body. She thought of him pissing in her, the image of this animal leaning against her and flooding her mouth and cunt with his piss. And now he was going to screw her.
But before Krystal could shout out her protest once more, Mike had slipped his cockmeat into her cunt and was starting to ram his prickhead against her cherry.
"Eaghghhgbhhh! No! No! Take it out, take it out!"
The pain was excruciating, worse than the whipping Krystal had been forced to submit to. She had been told about losing her cherry, about the tearing agony all women had to go through. But Krystal had pushed those stories to one side. It was something to think about later. Later had come now, and she writhed helplessly against the bench, her cunt divided, her pussy split by that horrid prick.
His cockhead was pressing hard up against her cherry, tearing it away. Shouting, feeling as if she would die, Krystal curled her toes until they cramped. Her cunt was stretching agonizingly, the throbbing knifing into her brain.
"Eaghghghghhh! No! Oh God, no, no, no!"
Krystal felt him puffing back, the elastic itchy walls of her pussy shrinking together once more. The girl cried out a third time, her pussy muscles cinching down tight, cramping around his cock.
"Relax, damn it! You've got to relax or it's gonna kill you!"
"Oh, oh, oh!"
Fucked to death! She could just imagine being roped here, fucked to death! When Krystal still didn't relax, Mike slapped her several times across the face, reaching down and pinching her nipples hard between his fingers until he had her yelping with agony. She arched her spine as much as she could, banging her head against the bench, screeching for mercy. None came. There was only more pain, more slapping, more pinching until the girl thought she would faint from the pain.
"Please… please, don't… don't do this to me!"
Mike shoved back in, smoothing his fingers along her outer labes.
He had done it! Krystal's face blanched, her mouth opened as his cock bloodied itself down into her cunt. He poled all eight inches of his fuckmeat into her, his hands braced on either side of her tormented body.
"Ohhhh… uhhhhhh, this is… is awful! Oh please, please, don't hurt me any more! Oh no, no, noooo!"
To add to her pain, Mike had brought two large clamps, clothespin-like devices he now opened and snapped shut on her nipples. Krystal screamed again, feeling the steel teeth of these devices nibbling away at her tit tips. There were small weights attached to the ends, puffing her tits away from her chest.
Mike reached down, tugging at them, pulling at the clamps until Krystal screamed and shouted for him to stop! The girl was sure he would tear her flesh with that awful pulling.
"Yeah, come on, bitch! Tell me about how much it hurts you! You can't get enough of something like that in your cunt, and you're complaining that it's killing you, right?"
Mike jerked at the weights again, watching as they distended her nipples. Krystal looked down, watching as the awful things nearly ripped her flesh. The pain around her tits took away her concentration from around her cunt. It was only when Mike began pulling his cock out, then shoving it back in that Krystal again felt the stretching pain in her pussy.
"Oh, oh, ohhhh!"
Krystal sobbed with shame and complete humiliation. It wasn't enough that she was here, dragged to this spot by her mother, mistaken for some kind of juvenile delinquent. Oh no, she had to be shamed by this man, this horrible man who had ripped her cherry apart, clamped her nipples and now was fucking her and making her feel something very strange happening around her cunt. The tight, narrow, formerly unused hole inside her was slowly getting bigger, getting wetter and wetter as his fat cock screwed into her.
Again, her cuntal muscles cinched down, making her cry in pain. It was as if Mike were tearing her body right down the middle as one would tear tissue. She felt as if she were being impaled on a pole and it would ram all the way up to her heart. The girl couldn't believe her body could handle all that cockmeat!
Mike shoved back, then thrust in once more, his belly slapping wetly against her body. He was tugging at the ropes, tightening them against her flesh, then pulling at the weights and watching Krystal's agonized expression, the result from the pain. When she tried screaming again, he slapped her, knocking the wind from her lungs. The girl screamed and shrieked, feeling her face become covered with a wash of perspiration. Writhing helplessly under the attack, all Krystal could do was take his brutality and hope it would soon end.
"Oh man, man, nice and hot and tight! Jesus, you've got a hungry little cunt there, Krystal. And my cock fits in it just right!"
"Oh, oh, nooooooo!"
Her cries bounced off the wall, ringing in her ears while he started fucking her harder and faster. The hot searing pain blinded her to everything. All the girl could do was flex her crotch muscles, trying to loosen her pussy with that movement so the fucking wouldn't be so painful. In a few moments, the girl felt her movements take effect. Her cuntal walls were growing more and more hot and wet, the membranes stretching to accommodate the massive prick chugging through her pussy. Krystal wriggled her ass over the bench, feeling the splinters again. But this time the pricking was welcomed, the sensation sending feelings of lust racing through her.
What was happening to her? The whipping? The ropes? The pissing scene? And now this bondage honor with him fucking her on the bench while her legs were chained widely apart to opposite walls! And yet, and yet, Krystal felt nothing but lust, nothing but delight now as he was fucking her pussy with a steady in-and-out movement. Instead of the cries of agony that had escaped her lips before, now only lusty little grunts of pleasure came out. She licked her lips, far from fighting Mike any longer.
"You rat's ass bitch!" he said, pulling back and looking down at the twisting blonde teen. "You're so Goddamned hot you could burn off my prick. And you puttin' on that act about being such a fuckin' virgin," Mike growled, completely out of control. He had dropped his slower-paced formal voice, acting like a truck driver while fucking Krystal half-senseless.
"Fuck me, fuck me!"
She didn't care what he thought of her at this point. Her sex-drive was at high-pitch, her ass hot for him, her pussy running with juice that wet down her cuntal hair. Fucking! That was what she was living for. Her snatch burned for the big stud. Deflowered, her cherry ripped only moments ago, Krystal wanted this man more than anything else she had ever wanted in the world!
"Yeah, bitch. You're gonna get fucked. But not by me – at least, not right now!"
"No, no, don't pull it out! Noooo!"
Krystal made a wincing face, tugging at the wrist bonds until her muscles bulged against her sweaty-damp flesh. No! She had to have that hot hard thing in her, spreading her itchy, achey cuntal walls apart, searching down in the hot, smooth depths of her cunt.
"Too bad, Krystal. That's the way, you little slut! That's the way!"
She could feel his fat cockhead pulling out slowly, the double lobes tugging at her convulsing cuntal muscles. They shivered at the touch of his prickhead, gobs of juice running down her asscheeks like lava. Thea, with a small squishy pop, Mike was free of her cunt.
The girl jerked her head from left to right, grinding up her ass hungrily as much as she could, silently begging the man for more. She was in high rut now, her belly muscles tightening, the cords sticking out from her throat while strands of blonde hair clung to her hot, damp cheeks.
Krystal wanted that prick. Oh God, she wanted it slipping back into her, scratching that achey itch that was driving her mindless! How could he do something like this to her? How could he leave her this… this abandoned! Krystal let out another cry, tugging at the straps holding her legs apart, able to feel the rub of her cuntlips against one another and her cunt from the violent, restricted moves. Still, it was no substitute for that wonderful fucking Mike had been giving her!
"Here. Here's something for you, something a whore like you deserves!"
Krystal looked through lust-slitted eyes, seeing him holding what appeared to be a cock. It was a dildo, a long whitish pink thing with tiny spikes sticking out on all sides. A small crank was at the bottom, a crank which the big stud began now turning.
"Ohh… oh God!"
There had to be some steel inner core or something inside the dildo. It was warped, making the latex cock twist and bend in various grotesque ways. At the same time, the tiny spikes moved in and out variously, their pistonlike movement depending upon the speed of the turning crank.
"Like that? Would you like something like this better than having my cock in you?" Mike teased, holding the dildo right next to his still hard cock.
"I wanna cock! Wanna cock," she said under her breath, her eyes rounded in horrified surprise as she studied the dildo.
"You'll get it… like this first, though," Mike said, bending down and sliding under her legs.
Krystal jerked her legs, snapping her head back, banging her skull against the rear bench. Her ass hung there teasingly, invitingly, begging to have something like that terrible dildo slipped into it. Mike rubbed his right forefinger along her cuntlips, seeing she was slicked down enough for the grotesque fucking. Holding the sides of the dildo with his left hand, he turned the crank with his right, sliding the thing into the teen's pussy.
Krystal jerked both arms and legs, the straps cutting deeply into her flesh. It was horrible, painful! He would tear her apart with that thing. She tried twisting her body off the bench, but the center strap tugged painfully at her belly, knocking the wind from her lungs. Again, he slipped another inch into her pussy, twisting the crank and making these tiny spikes bite into her cuntal walls. Krystal screamed out again, swearing he was ripping her pussy apart with the dildo.
"No, oh God, no… uhhhh, oh please, please, you'll kill me with that."
She couldn't even give it a name. Krystal only knew it hurt her terribly. And now he was turning that crank faster, making the dildo twist around and nudge her cuntal walls. He kept it buried halfway in her pussy now, letting her pussy contract and impale itself on those sharp little spikes. The more Krystal tried to control herself, to keep her cunt from snapping down on that thing, the more itchy her pussy seemed to get and the harder those muscles contracted in spasms.
Then he began moving it, raking those spikes over her cuntal walls, tilting the dildo up so they bit into her clit. Krystal yammered for mercy again, her movements making the bench under her move.
"Christ! You'll take anything up your Goddamned cunt, won't you? Fuckin' slut!"
Krystal felt herself getting closer and closer to that moment of insanity, that wonderful time when she knew all those moments of pain and humiliation would pay off. Mike was going to make her cum! Oh yes, with that thing rodding her, tearing at her, biting her, she was going to cum and cum hard. Arching her spine once more, the girl pressed her belly hard against the center strap, her fingers curling and the nails creasing her sweaty-damp palms. She looked up; a dumb, hard-staring look at the ceiling. The single overhead light seemed suddenly to blow to pieces, becoming a brightly colored rainbow.
There. It was there! She was nearly over the edge. Mike saw this and slowed the movements, making sure the tiny spikes raked continually over her cunt. Krystal felt herself falling through a strange dark world, her cunt clamping down killingly on that spiked dildo while the spasms exploded though her pussy.
Her body writhed and jerked, as if she'd been struck by a lightning bolt. Mike had a difficult time keeping the dildo in her cunt as she swiveled and pitched her ass against the bench. It was a wonderful, all-encompassing feeling as the flames of incredible delight licked up her thighs and into her cunt.
"Uhhhh… oh God, God, I'm… I'm going to cum… I'm making it!"
Krystal had never felt anything like that before in her life! She thrashed against her bonds like a madwoman, the pain and restraint around her wrists and ankles gone while her cunt exploded again and again in white flashes of searing heat.
How long it had gone on for, Krystal didn't know. Slowly, she felt herself coming back down, her cunt slackening, the muscles around her thighs relaxing while her body sagged back down against the bench. Mike was straddling her now, his fingers working around his cockhead. That awful dildo was still rammed down her pussy, the spikes biting into her cuntal walls.
"Now it's my turn."
With those simple words, he jammed his cock into her mouth, grabbing a fistful of her hair and jerking her head back. There had been no warning, no preparation. Krystal gagged, horror reeling through her mind as her jaw spread achingly for the big cock. She felt the shame of doing something like this nearly as intensely as she felt the fat head of his prick poling against her cheeks. He was ready to cum! She could taste something bleachy, something salty and instinctively knew it was his cum bubbling from that slit, his cum about to wash down her throat.
Mike squatted down a little more, his ass resting against her tits while he throat-fucked the bawling teen. Krystal coughed, gasping for air, trying to widen her jaws to accommodate that much cockmeat. Her lips rubbed along the heavily veined sides of Mike's cock. There! He'd pulled out enough for her to cough again, grab another lungful of air and hold it.
"Man, oh man, bitch, gonna do it! Gonna fill that little throat with my spunk!"
He had both hands in her hair now, jerking her head up and down, tearing the strands from her scalp while squatting on her face and feeding her those thick hot inches of his prick meat. Krystal felt his heavy balls slapping again and again against her chin. Mike was bouncing fast, making grunting sounds, sweat streaking his chest while he pounded her face with his groin. She thought she would surely pass out from all the sensation, from the beating she was receiving.
And then… and then she felt the first salty squirt jet up against the back of her throat. She curled her fingers, scraping her nails against the wooden bench seat while coughing violently.
"Swallow it, bitch! Come on, Krystal, take my cum and swallow it!"
Krystal felt she had no choice. Working her throat muscles, the helpless blonde teen began taking in all the cum; feeling the white slime ooze down her throat while more and more splattered on her face, letting his prick muscles do all the work. At times he almost caressed her, moving his fingers over scalp, occasionally tugging at her hair and making her cry out.
Krystal felt the climax had lasted hours. When his cockhead finally finished sending all those gobs of cum down her throat, Mike groaned in approval, slowly puffing his cock from her mouth. He wiped his greasy prickhead over lips, and Krystal found herself smacking them with approval.
"Little slut. We've got our work cut out for us here to make you into a young lady," he said, his former calm returning as he raised one leg and slipped off her body.
"Please… you've done all this to me. Just let me go. I promise I won't tell anyone about this," she said, meaning every word.
Krystal was sobbing now, feeling that every, square inch of her body had been cruelly violated. He had carried out his threat about disciplining her. Now she would have done anything he asked just to avoid some of the terrors she had presently endured.
"I can see you're coming around a bit – see it in your eyes. That's good. I'll have to give you some time to think about it… in my fashion."
Mike dressed first, then slowly removed the straps holding her legs apart. The dildo was slipped out carefully, the instrument returned to its appropriate place on a small shelf nearby. Last came the straps around her wrists and waist. Linda collapsed to the floor like a sack of potatoes, pushing the hair from her eyes. One look at Mike and she knew she was to stand and keep her eyes down – just as she had seen the other girls do at this "school".
"Good. Really good," he said pleased, fingering her tits.
He pinched her nipples, already sore from all the sex play.
"You'll learn to tolerate much more, Krystal, much more. Now, however, it's time to go to your room. We'll start another class soon."
He marched her down the corridor after locking the door carefully behind them. She felt dirty, violated. Several girls passed her as they moved back toward the living quarters, but Krystal couldn't move her eyes from the floor. She would grovel in the dirt, she felt, before she felt worthy enough to look at another human being. Oh oh, his training was starting to work all too well for Krystal!
The days moved quickly for Krystal. To her surprise, regular classes were as difficult if not more so than the ones she attended at her advanced private school in San Bernardino. The only differences were that here all the classmates were girls, and that nearly one-half of them sat naked in their chairs. No one said anything about that. No one said anything about anything else. Everyone was quiet, took notes, studied, ate – everything in silence. It was during the evening hours Krystal trembled, waiting for Mike at someone like him to enter her cell like room and beat her for no reason. They had made things relatively comfortable in here – plenty of warm blankets, a decent bed, enough lighting for her to do her studying. But still they kept her at her proper "level" by depriving her of clothes.
It was then, when she began thinking of all the shame she was enduring, that she thought of her mother. Resentment and hurt boiled together. Why hadn't she come here to see her, if not to rescue her? Surely she couldn't know the extent of her daughter's distress, even if she had guessed there would be some outrageous disciplinary measures applied now and then.
On the afternoon of the fourth day, Krystal found Linda standing outside the door of her American History class. The other girls shrank away immediately from her, scurrying on by with their eyes still down. Krystal looked straight at her, hugging her one book to her tits protectively. She had guessed this woman held a good deal of power here, and to be kind to her was to be smart.
"We want you. It's time for another session. Come with me."
Krystal didn't fight. That was useless. She had to submit and hope she would endure this one as well as she had the first. She nodded and mutely followed the attractive tall girl. Passing the hall leading to her room, Krystal gave a longing look to the corridor, wishing she could curl up under the coarse gray blankets right now and doze over her studies.
Krystal felt Linda taking her book away, pushing her over a low threshold into a vault like room. Krystal looked about her and saw the usual instruments of pain hanging from the walls. Although this wasn't the room she had been tortured in the first time, still there was a distinct resemblance. As she moved in farther, the girl wondered just how many of these spaces there were – just how many young girls had suffered as she had on their first days here at the institution. Looking to the left, Krystal noticed various masks, gags and hoods of leather hanging from the wall. The full impact of what would probably happen to her hit her like a rock. She rubbed her fingers over her upper arms, her teeth chattering.
"Now, stop here, raise your arms," Linda directed calmly.
They were near the center of the room. Looking above her instinctively, Krystal saw a fourfoot wooden bar suspended from the ceiling by a long chain. She did as she was told, watching as her wrists were strapped tight to the wood. Her arms were spread widely, the strain just starting to make itself felt in her shoulders. The few days of rest she had enjoyed had healed a good deal of the marks, welts and chafing zones that had marked her young body.
"Now, spread your legs apart. From what I understand about you, Krystal, that should be a pleasant enough command to obey."
Mike! He must have told her everything – about the way she had enjoyed that awful fucking, about the way she had licked his cock, then taken the full length down her throat, sucking at it until he shot his load into her belly! Krystal could imagine the two of them laughing at her, trying to determine what new humiliation they could drag her through.
"You heard me, Krystal. No daydreaming here. Spread your legs!"
Krystal obeyed, fleetingly remembering Mike and how he had fucked her with that spiked dildo. Looking down now, she saw that just beyond each of her feet a ringbolt in the floor had a short chain ending in a heavy leather anklet. She shuddered, remembering how painful the chafing had been during her last ordeal. Linda fitted these on her, buckling them tightly, then moved to the right wall.
Krystal followed her movements as if her life depended upon them. The woman removed a small wooden cover and dropped it to the floor with a dull thud. A winch-type device appeared, a thing Linda grabbed and unlocked. Immediately Krystal felt the chain shuddering above her. Turning the winch slowly, Linda made the wooden bar above Krystal's head slowly rise. She struggled, looking at either arm, panic starting once more to make its presence felt in her heart. She felt her arms drawing up, her muscles stretching and straining gradually. At the saint time, her ankles tugged at their bonds from the upward pressure. Krystal began whimpering, jerking her head from left to right. Soon one heel, then the other, left the floor. When Linda finally stopped turning and flipped the ratchet, the naked young teen hung in an X, her arms and legs spread wide, her muscles strained to the tearing point.
Krystal wanted to scream out, to beg for mercy. But she knew no one would listen to her. She was a prisoner in this awful place, a captive no one would help as she hung there from the ceiling.
"Yes, you're beautiful… I see as beautiful as Mike talks about. He and I have many talks about the girls here," Linda said, her voice softening strangely as she approached Krystal.
Some moments passed before Krystal realized a distinct change in attitude had come over Linda. There was that softness, that almost caressing tone in her voice that she found addictive. There was that human warmth she had been deprived of these horrid days, and she felt herself leaning toward her.
Linda ran her light fingers caressingly up and down Krystal's strained body, touching her nipples ever so lightly, then bringing them passed her belly button to the top of her fuzzy cuntal mound.
"Such a beautiful young woman," Linda repeated, biting her lower lip in an obvious attempt for control. Krystal gasped, feeling a strange, intense tightness starting to heat her pussy.
Linda seemed to have come to a decision. Krystal felt the woman's fingers gripping her jutting hipbones, holding her body while her tongue began licking up and down her belly. Krystal closed her eyes, her nostrils flaring while her muscles ridged. Another woman was doing this to her, another girl, little older than herself, touching her with… with her mouth! And there she hung, strapped to the bar overhead, feeling nothing but pleasure racing up and down her thighs and into her cunt like delicious flames. She curled her toes, pulling at the bar while giving herself up to the wonderful hot sensation filling her cunt.
"Yes, Mike was right," Linda cooed, touching the girl's clit with her tongue and laughing lightly as Krystal shuddered in her bonds. "Anything can make you hot – can make you cum."
"Oh, no, no, not true, not, not true!" Her breath was coming in short, breathy gasps, while a horrible tightness gripped her chest.
"Cunt-teasing bitch. I should shove that damned dildo so far up your greedy little snatch you'd never get it out!"
How she wished Linda would take off her uniform, would caress and hold her, touch her cunt with her cunt, rub nipple to nipple while burying her tongue in her mouth and kissing her hard! More erotic, filthy images filled her mind, made the girl pant heavily, her flesh sheening now with a faint layer of perspiration as the young guard began licking down into her cunt.
"You ever have this done to you? You and your girlfriends ever play like this, touching one another, holding one another while your mothers thought you were just swapping girl talk?"
"No, no, never!"
It was true, although she doubted Linda believed her. It didn't matter any way. Linda was fitting her mouth to her pussy, rimming the tense, eager, rubbery edge of her cunt with the tip of her tongue, occasionally slipping it into her cuntlips and twisting it around her pussy as if it were a cock fucking her. Fucking. Yes, yes, that's what this reminded her of! A teasing fuck! Krystal twisted from left to right, wishing she could slide her arms from the straps and hold Linda.
"Hot… that's what you are, so damned hot you're going to burn my tongue off."
Krystal felt as if she were falling again at the air for support and finding nothing to hold onto. Linda was licking her into a wonderful excitement, touching her outer labes, then stiffening her tongue and burrowing all the way in while rubbing both hands around her cunt. It was like having all parts of her body stimulated at once! The blonde teen shuddered in her bonds, moaning, begging Linda to do more to her as she hung there from the ceiling.
Linda had shoved one finger up her ass, fucking her asshole with it while pressing her mouth hard against her pussy. Krystal thought she would lose her mind. Bright flashes of light blinded her while Linda kissed long and deep into her cunt.
"Oh, it's good, good, soooooooo good! Suck me, please suck me! More, I want more, more! Do it! Do it! Oh God, do it to me now!"
It was the first time she had had sex without all the pain, the humiliation of having someone beating and hurting her. She wanted to feel a climax without the agony of a beating and the horror of shame. She was going crazy, feeling Linda's mouth going wild in her cunt. The girl was licking down deep into her pussy, sucking up those juices, scraping her cuntal walls with her tongue while touching her clit continually with her lips.
"Oh, oh, ohhhhhh!"
It was going to happen! Oh yes, yes, it was going to happen, hanging here by the chains! She was going to climax right in Linda's mouth. Krystal shook as if touched by an electric wire, the chains rattling overhead. No, no, no, it was too good to be true! And still she could feel that finger wriggling up her shitter, the nail pressing down into her asshole while Linda's lips were sucking at her clit now, forcing the tiny spindle to erupt.
Linda groaned into the teen's cunt, making her, clit spin off into a series of crazy vibrations. Krystal rolled her ass as much as she could, tugging up at her legs once more, feeling the leather thongs biting into her flesh. She tried working her hips back and forth, forcing her cunt onto that wriggling, fucking tongue. Linda had started it now! She had started that fucking tongue working into her pussy, making it slip back and forth, forcing it deeper until she thought it was going to touch her womb! Oh, oh, it was the best feeling ever since the time Mike had fucked her with that dreadful dildo. "Uhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Krystal forgot everything – her mother, Mike, the general horror covering this place like a shroud – the moment her climax hit. She felt her clit popping again and again, like a firecracker. Her whole body seemed to spasm, her toes curling while her tummy muscles knotted in cramps.
"Ahhhhhh… oh, oh, it's sooooo gooooooood!"
Krystal came and came and came, her cuntal muscles cinching down on the still-wriggling tongue while her body twisted and jerked on the ropes. She finally felt reality start to trickle in, her mind returning to normal and remembering all too well the stretching, tugging feeling around her wrists and ankles. Mike was still out there. Good old Mike, the one who would tear her to pieces if he could!
"That was very good, Krystal," Linda said, drawing one hand over her lips and smiling up at the dangling, hanging girl.
"Please, please, let me go. Get me out of this place!"
Krystal hoped somehow, after having given herself so freely to the guard, Linda would help her escape from this school. She would go to the papers, go somewhere and tell everyone how her mother had forced her into this dreadful place. She would live alone, far from here, far from Mike and Linda and anyone else connected with this horror. But the guard only smiled at her thinly, shaking her head from side to side.
"You still haven't learned, have you? Discipline's everything in life – everything follows that," Linda said with a shrug. "Once you come to that conclusion, you'll never want to leave here."
"No! Oh God, you're all crazy!" Krystal cried, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"You've started learning it already," Linda countered, caressing her cheek. "I can see it in your eyes, in the way you've been reacting lately. It won't be long," she predicted.
"You're sick! All of you!" Krystal shouted as Linda straightened her uniform, then moved to the door.
"Mike'll be in shortly for another… uh, lesson," Linda said with a smirk.
Another lesson! The words struck her like a hammer! That monster, that obscenity, walking in here and giving her another lesson! Again, the girl tugged frantically at the bonds, hoping against hope something would give way and let her tumble freely to the floor. She looked form rope to rope, from thong to thong, hoping she could figure out something. But all the girl managed to do was upset herself. Footsteps outside the door told Krystal Mike was approaching! Her heart sank to the floor as the big man entered the room, closing and locking the door behind him.
"I'm sorry I'm late," Mike mockingly apologized, "but it takes more than this to run the school."
He was dressed in a suit and tie. But still the rather formal and respectable attire couldn't hide the lurid gaze in his eyes as he studied the helpless teen.
"Good. You look a little tired," Mike observed, "but we can find ways to bring you back to life."
Mike unlocked the winch and began twisting the handle round and around in a clockwise movement. Krystal screamed, the gentle tugging she had experienced now becoming a definite tearing sensation the thongs hurt her wrists, threatening to shatter the bones while the straps on her ankles bit into her flesh like shark's teeth. The teen shrieked, her body bouncing on the chains. She thought surely Mike would rip her arms from their sockets. Already she could feel something popping in her shoulders.
"Good. That's good enough."
He stopped the turning, locking the ratchet in place. Krystal sobbed, tears of agony streaking her face. Mike was already removing his coat and shirt and tie, getting ready for what she knew would be some new horror.
"Linda's probably serviced you," he said, taking off his trousers and folding them neatly on a near-by wooden chair. Padding barefooted to a green metal locker to the right, Mike pulled out a pair of faded Levi's, drawing them on while staring at the helpless girl. "She always does that to the girls when I'm not there. Not a bad idea. Keeps them in line. Now, what are we going to do with you?" He scratched his chin thoughtfully. Krystal was terrified of the answer.
"I've already fucked you, beaten you, pissed on you, beaten you," Mike said, reciting the various torments her had visited on the teen, nearly breaking into laughter as he circled her – a tiger about to spring on his prey. "Maybe we need something more erotic far you."
The strain on her shoulders and thighs was becoming agonizing. Krystal's head hung down, her long blonde hair curtaining her face. Mike had moved from her, taking something down from the wall. When she looked up again, she saw him raising a large object over her head, straps dangling from a bottom iron ring. A hood of some sort! A mask of leather being fitted over head, pressing hard against her forehead!
Krystal struggled, twisting her head around, jerking it from side to side, doing anything to keep it from moving down over her eyes. Nothing could prevent that. Mike was standing on a small stool, drawing the tight-fitting hood over her chin. A firm ring of soft metal was squeezed tight around her throat.
"No breathing! Uhhfhhfhfhfhfffffff!"
Her voice was muffled by the hood. But somehow the girl had managed to get it across that the leather hood was blocking her mouth and nose. Mike adjusted the leather mask, fitting her nose into a slight protrusion in the device where two fairly large holes permitted breathing. Krystal also found there was a zippered mouth opening, now closed, opposite her mouth. Mike opened it, slipping something past it against her lips. At first she thought it was his cock. Then the girl realized it was something hard and cold – a rubber tube, it seemed.
"Open up, Krystal… open up or I'll jam this thing down into your belly until you vomit!"
It was hard latex, so hard that even biting down couldn't make any real impression. Mike pushed it into the girl's mouth, sliding it until it was opposite her tonsils. Zipping the mouth opening of the hood tight against the tube kept it fixed in place. The next moment, Krystal found the other end of the tube brushing over her cuntal mound.
"You see, it's another form of bringing you around to self-discipline. Nothing will happen if you can control yourself," he went on, sliding the tube into her pussy, working it up until at least three inches were buried in her cunt.
Krystal found her still-warm vaginal muscles tightening around the cool intrusion as if it were a cock. "I'll make sure you don't try pushing this thing out by working it in… here!"
He jammed the tube right into her urethra, laughing as her shrieks echoed through the room. Catheterized! And he was fitting something around her hips – a belt of some sort with straps that were attached to the tube, keeping it in place.
"Now, if you keep control, nothing'll happen," Mike explained. "But if you lose control, you'll be drinking you own piss!"
And Krystal was reasonably certain Mike would do everything in his power to make her lose control. This was yet another horrid lesson, another terror she would have to endure – and all because her mother had wanted her disciplined!
"Now, then, all that's in place," Mike said, checking the mouth fitting, tugging the hose, and making sure it was shoved all the way into her throat.
Krystal swallowed hard, the rubber tube making her gag. She could feel her bladder filling, rebelling against the foreign object prodding her sensitive flesh. No. No. She had to keep control. She had to prevent her body from giving up, from releasing the urine that would surely choke her! What was terrible was the fact that Krystal couldn't see what Mike was doing. The leather hood fitted tightly over her eyes, no slits available for sight.
"Maybe I'd like to see just how sensitive your apples are."
Krystal could hear him breathing, breathing like the aroused animal he was. He was behind her now, feeling her asscheeks, rubbing his fingers up and down her tight little asscrack. There was fumbling. And then she heard the sound of something stroking against sandpaper. Matches! He was lighting matches around her, and Krystal couldn't do a thing about it. She tugged at the wretched bonds, her body taut, damp with perspiration while the smell grew more and more intense. In a moment she felt the heat of a burning match up against the right side of her face. She stood still, her cheeks twitching, her spittle gathering behind the tube as the girl waited for the burning touch of the flame.
He was moving the flames around the leather hood, then down to the base of her throat. Twice the tip of the fire brushed against her throat, singeing her flesh lightly, making the girl cry out then whimper as she pulled futilely at the overhead chains. Mike chuckled softly to himself, drawing the fire up to her forehead, then back down to her throat, finally placing it right below her left nipple. Again, the teen swallowed hard, feeling the kissing warmth of the fire against her tit tip.
"You're getting hard there, Krystal. In spite of your fear, you're getting aroused. Are you always like this, Krystal?"
She wanted to scream, no! She wanted to tell him to take that wretched fire from her nipple! But all she could do was think of the pain that would soon rack her body! She shuddered, feeling her thigh muscles twitch. When Mike let the tip of the flame barely touch her nipple, the girl shrieked, jerking her head back and biting down on the latex hose. It was as if someone had pricked her nipple with a tiny hot piss. Still the terror of not being able to see what was happening gripped her heart like an icy hand. She lost control, and in a second Krystal tasted something very warm and salty in her mouth and throat: piss! She was pissing on herself and in herself, gagging on her own urine! Coughing, her nostrils and eyes burning from the dry heaves rocking her, the young teen managed to regain control and close off her throat to the piss.
"You see what can happen when you're not careful," Mike said, guessing what had occurred. "Now we're going to try again."
The fire grew hot around her right nipple, the heat like a painful licking tongue touching her tit tip, making the pink flesh red and stiff stretching up from around her wrinkling areola. Krystal's knees shivered as Mike moved the match from her nipple, then finally shoved it hard up against the tip. The fire was burning her! She could smell the burning flesh just as the shock of pain blew into her head.
Krystal felt herself pining again, her bladder muscles fluttering, sending up streamers of urine through the black tube and into her throat. She coughed and gagged, fearing she would choke on the piss if she didn't swallow fast. The match was gone, thank God! She could hear Mike swearing, and guessed he had burned himself from his curse-Good! He should suffer for all the pain and agony he was causing her.
"Let me try something a little stronger for this, Krystal. You're getting a little better at control. You stopped your own urine just after you started pissing on yourself. Good. Now, here's a good challenge for you."
There were sounds – terrible, scraping sounds on the floor in a moment. She could hear Mike working on something, a gentle slapping and tugging sound reaching her muffled ears. Moments later, she felt something entering her cunt, something other than a tube. It was smaller than a pencil – a rod of some sort, the tip poking against her inner labes. Mike was making sure it was firmly in place before moving onto her tits.
Krystal's nipples were still sore from the burning she had received earlier. And now she felt something very sharp, something that was biting her tit tips. The young blonde teen drew back, her wrists cut by the straps again, her nerves parting in her arms as another clamp chewed into her other nipple.
"Now to make sure I've got all the options covered, your slitter's gonna get it too."
What was he doing? Krystal felt something very sharp scraping along her buttocks, making them shiver and break into goosebumps. Mike was spreading her asscheeks with one hand, inserting that wire-like thing into her shitter and spearing it down, down until it was well embedded in her bowels. It was only then he moved up front and began tugging at the tit clamps.
"They're not ordinary clamps, Krystal. They're very special," he said, his voice almost musical with laughter.
He was backing away, moving to a position some feet to her right. The girl cocked her head to one side, straining her hearing, trying to guess what he had in store for her.
A buzzing sound! There it was, a steady pulsing sound that suddenly reached her ears. She straightened her head, trying to think of what it reminded her of. Something mechanical, of course. Something that… oh God, a generator! He had switched on a generator that Krystal was sure was connected to her body!
There was a buzzing, tugging sensation Krystal felt at first around her nipples and cunt. She squirmed, biting down on the latex tube more in fear than in pain. It was such an odd feeling and not necessarily an unpleasant one. The young teen squeezed her ass muscles together, working her firm asscheeks against the wire, now alive with current in her asshole.
"I see you enjoy this," Mike said with another laugh. "Most girls start going hysterical at this point. But you only want more. That's just what you're gonna get."
It was as if someone had kicked her in the belly. Krystal noticed immediately the change in the sound of the generator. At the same time, the pulse dug harder into her nipples, cunt and ass. She jerked, making the chains rattle overhead. Gooseflesh erupted around her aureoles and pussy, her thigh muscles riding while her asscheeks jiggled against one another. Krystal began to shiver, noticing now her cunt began to itch. It was another orgasm on the make. The girl could tell that immediately. Strung up like this, Krystal could see she was going to cum once more.
She could taste it, taste more piss rising through the tube and entering her mouth. Again, the teen tried forcing herself to control her bladder muscles. But the pulsing electricity was taking her mind off these things. She could feel her cunt starting to stiffen, to push up from the surrounding pink, moist flesh and get very, very hard while her nipples were stiffening. Strange sensations blasting from her asshole to her pussy were making the girl twist and moan on the chains. Another notch up, and Krystal thought she was going to shit on herself.
"Now, for the hard stuff!"
Another notch up! Krystal felt the current leap through her body, making the muscles contract and relax without her will. She twisted around, biting down hard on the rubber tube while her temples throbbed and she heard a ringing sound that got louder and louder as the seconds passed. Her tits jumped, slapping together while her nipples became swollen with blood. Her belly muscles knotted until they cramped while her cunt began opening and closing like the valves of a clam.
Her bladder relaxed again, sending a stream of hot, stinging urine into her throat. It was all Krystal could do to keep her wits and swallow it. Her stomach reacted, rebelling against the piss and nearly making her puke.
"That's it, baby, play along with me! You're gonna take the full setting when I get through with you."
From what Krystal could tell, Mike's voice was getting thick and broken again, a sure sign he was as excited as she. But Krystal couldn't really tell. The electricity tearing through her body was taking up all her attention. When Mike dialed the machine another tone higher, Krystal lost all control. Piss shot into her mouth, foaming around the corners of her lips and dribbling down her chin. Some of it she swallowed, making her stomach tie up in knots and contract. Her asshole was opening and closing, biting down on the wire while the current ripped through her bowels. It felt as if shards of glass were scratching her nipples, cunt and shitter. Her asshole contracted suddenly, a fist of air bursting from her bowels nearly dislodging the wires shoved down deep in her shitter.
Krystal wished he would rape her, tear her down and take her like the animal she was – anything but keep her dangling here like a hunk of meat. But Mike only cranked the machine higher. Krystal felt as if she were struck with a runaway truck. Her tits and belly and cunt were ripped to pieces by fiery knives. Her bones seemed to throb, the joints becoming swollen and achey. Krystal screamed the shout of the damned. But her cries were choked behind the rubber tube.
Another setting. Krystal writhed, juice and piss gushing from her mouth. Her lips were purple, diamonds of spittle standing out. Cunt juice oozed from her slit, running down her flexing, ridged thighs. The pain inside her body was like some enormous beast stalking about, gnawing at her guts. Krystal wished she could faint. But the electricity kept her conscious. It was at this point the girl felt her climax erupt – a power combating the electricity at first, then finally joining it, magnified by the stinging current.
She shuddered and jerked on the chains, her head becoming a blur now as Krystal thought her life would surely be over. He would electrocute her, frying her to a crisp while she fought against the chain bonds holding her firmly to the floor and ceiling.
Mike couldn't take much more. With a rapid movement, he shut the machine down. It was as if someone had pushed her down a flight of steps. Krystal kept screaming, her body quivering. But the power that had been driving into her like an impaling stake was gone. He pulled out the tube, ripping it from her urethra.
Krystal screamed loudly now, sobbing and shrieking while her ass jiggled up and down. Without a word, Mike slapped her until she came around, reaching up and taking the bonds from her wrist. She fell to the floor, knocking herself half-unconscious. That was when he threw himself stop her, kicking her knees apart and mounting her like a dog in the gutter.
Mike didn't care. In a moment, he impaled his cock in her, raping her while her ankles were still bound to the cement floor. Krystal felt this new humiliation and wailed. When, oh dear God, would it all end?
"Uhf! Uhf! Uh!"
Her mouth was soured with the taste of her own piss. Her shoulders and arms and legs ached from the bonds and from the electricity that had torn through her body. And still Mike was raping her. He held onto her shoulders, purposely forcing her into an uncomfortable position, slamming her head against the floor several times while putting his full weight on her thighs and belly. Krystal retched as his cock punched into her cunt again and again.
"Damned, little bitch! You like this, love it especially after you got a taste of that, right?" he said, jerking his head back indicating the generator.
"Yes, yes, damn it!"
There! She'd admitted it, told him the secret, told him in four words he'd been right all along. The pain, the humiliation, the discipline had all had their effect on her. Krystal knew she was going to like this, enjoy everything about Mike and the school from now on. In a flash of thrilling realization, she knew it.
"Little bitch! God-damned little whore!" he cried, backhanding her, his knuckles bruising her cheeks. He slapped her again, angling his body so his cock would rub hard against her clit. Krystal let out a cry of rage and greed, hugging him as best she could with her knees, wrapping her arms around his back and drawing him in deeper. She felt his cockhead rummaging around in her pussy, going down so very very deep while his balls nestled against the soft saddle of her thighs.
Mike was tearing her apart, using his cock as a weapon of war. Lust began boiling again, rattling her brain while his prick ground her insides like mortar pulverized by a pestle. He grunted, a beast in rut, twisting his body around so Krystal could feel his cock working in her pussy. And then she could feel the hot, hard spurt of his jizz splashing in her pussy, filling her up, dribbling out from around the stretched flesh of her outer labes. He arched his spine, closing his eyes and shaking mightily while more and more cum boiled into her cunt slit. It was some time before he stiffened again, shaking the perspiration from his face and pulling out of her pussy.
Krystal lay there for several moments, getting back her breath. She blinked her eyes clear, looking about the room. She had a new feeling now about all this. There wasn't the fear, the sheer terror she had experienced the first time they had stripped her and shoved her into a torture chamber. There was some fear, of course. But surmounting that was curiosity and a desire to push herself to the brink of ultimate pleasure. This, Krystal began to vaguely realize, was something Mike could do. The girl found herself smiling, turning her face away from the big man so he couldn't see her softening. Not yet. There would be time for that.
Lying there, feeling Mike's jizz oozing from her pussy slot and running down her thighs, Krystal almost wished he would truss her back up in chains again and shove those clamps and wires back in her cunt. It would be worth it – the tearing agony, the cramping muscles, if in the end he would fuck the life from her with his killer cock.
"I almost forgot," Mike said with a grin. "I've got a surprise for you. A visitor!"
Her mother! Krystal's thoughts suddenly snapped alert. Her mother had thrown her in here and slammed the door in her face. She growled, tugging at her chains.
"Now, that's no way to think about your own mother," Mike said, shaking his head. "I'll go get her. She'll want to see you like this."
"No! Never! I don't want to see that bitch ever!" Krystal shrieked out after him.
Krystal began crying, sorry she had screamed those terrible words. She shouldn't call her mother those names. Carla probably didn't know the extent of what was going on here at the school. And after all, she did try to stop her daughter in a way from entering the building. It had been Krystal's big idea to rush up the stairs and inside the building like a fly throwing itself into the net of a spider. Carla, in all fairness, had tried to hold her back. But then, of course, it was far too late. Krystal stopped, blinking away the tears. What would her mother think now, seeing her daughter stretched on the floor of this room, cum oozing from her fuck slot, the smell of her own piss on her breath? Carla had wanted discipline for her daughter. But was she willing to sacrifice her to that sort of life with something like this?
Krystal found herself saying that word as she heard two sets of footsteps outside the door growing louder. Yes, she would do anything to feel the power of climax again, especially that power augmented by the pains Mike was skilled at torturing her with.
"Oh my God, Krystal!"
Carla stood there, her hands to her face, her cheeks reddening as she stared wild-eyed at her daughter.
"What've you done to her?"
"We've been playing Monopoly!" Mike snapped back ironically. "Just doing the things you and I enjoyed some time ago."
"Oh, my God. Let her go! Let her go!"
Instead, Mike took hold of Carla's left arm, twisting it up so hard it took the woman's breath away. She half-twisted around, a sharp scream erupting from her throat as she fell to the floor. Krystal looked on impassively, watching her mother's face quickly become a blanced mask of agony. Mike threw his other arm around the woman, curling his fingers around the back of her blouse and tearing it from her body with her bra.
Carla screamed, beating her fists back, trying to wriggle and squirm away from his painful grip. Mike pounded one fist hard against the back of her head, stunning the woman while he finished tearing her clothes from her body. When Carla finally came to, she found herself naked on the floor, lying on her right side next to her daughter. Krystal had a strange smile on her face – a smile that seemed to persage laughter.
"Enjoying yourself, Mother? This is what you wanted for me all along, right?"
"No, oh no, I swear it, I… I didn't think things would go this far." Carla cried.
"Maybe not," Krystal agreed. "But they have. And now Mike's made a believer out of me."
Carla shrank from her daughter, seeing the half-mad stare in her eyes. What had she done? What had she started when she had succumbed to Mike and thrown her own daughter into this place?
"We can talk about family problems later," Mike said, grabbing hold of Carla's wrists and pulled her ass over the uneven, cracked floor. She winced, struggling against him, trying to get back to her feet. He kicked her twice in the ribs, the toe of his boot knocking the wind from her. Krystal propped herself up, watching as her mother was chained to the opposite wall, a large iron band slipped around her throat and pinning her head hard against the wall. The girl had never really seen her mother naked – certainly not like this. She had to admit the woman looked attractive, nearly as attractive as Linda.
"And you, bitch, you'll service your mother. Damn, I dig these mother/daughter scenes. Hot, real hot," Mike said, pulling the straps loose from around Krystal's ankles and grabbing hold of her feet. He dragged the girl across the room, instructing her to keep her head down. Krystal had long learned to obey. She did as she was told, saying nothing as he braced her legs against his body after puffing them up, attaching them to two black iron rings that dangled one foot away from Carla's face. More pulleys! More ropes! Mike was turning a small wheel to Carla's right side, jerking Krystal's body up slowly until her pussy was even with Carla's.
"See something you like, Carla? See a nice hot pussy there in front of you? Believe me, it's steamy. I just got through fucking it. Come on, Carla, don't you want to eat your daughter's cunt while she eats yours? And you can taste my cum while you're at it."
"No! Oh, God, you're sick!"
Mike pushed the teen hard against her mother's face, forcing her cunt into Carla's nose and mouth. The woman groaned into her daughter's pussy, making Krystal moan with delight at the humming sensation rumbling through her pussy. She flicked out her tongue, licking the older woman's cunt, trying to remember all the things Linda had done to her earlier. When she flicked her tongue up to her mother's clit she could feel her pussy twitch. Against Carla's wishes, her cunt was starting to come alive – and under her own daughter's mouth!
"Ummmmm, that's good, Mother! Oh, your pussy feels so warm and nice under my tongue!"
"You don't know what you're doing! Oh God, you don't know what you're doing!" Carla panted, feeling her mind going blank. It had been several days since she'd cum. And now, strung up like this, under Mike's heavy stare, the woman felt herself growing warmer and more and more aroused under her daughter's tonguing. He had taught her thing, things she could only guess at. But now Krystal was eating her out, flicking her tongue in and out of her cunt while chewing on her outer labes. And to her surprise, Carla found herself doing the same, sucking on Krystal's pussy, licking her tongue around her hot fleshy pussy folds, tasting the juice mixed with cum. In another moment, the two women were cumming, climaxing together, mother and daughter writhing and bumping against one another while their tongues slipped deep inside one another's convulsing cunts. It was a piece of forbidden heaven, a naughty pleasure both women reveled in now.
"Nice show. Real nice. Now you can think about it for a while. I might keep both of you around just for sport," Mike said, pulling Krystal from her mother, then sliding her ankles from the iron hoops. The girl fell to the floor with a thud, lying at her mother's feet until Mike slipped both hands under her arms and dragged her back. Krystal moaned again as Carla strained against the metal band choking her. She watched as Mike freely pawed her, sticking his fingers up the girl's cunt, her ass, pinching and eating her nipples, all in front of her mother.
Carla moaned, realizing what she had done in her own weakness. Now there was hell to pay – her own hell. Standing there, she watched as Mike fastened a rope around Krystal's right wrist, then attached it to another suspended iron ring to her left. He pulled it manually over a pulley until the girl began to rise, her toes barely scraping the floor. In another moment, the teen was well above the concrete, her eyes reflecting pain – but something else as well. Next, Mike attached an anklet around Krystal's right ankle and another around her left wrist. The big stud lifted and bent back his victim's legs, attaching the two bands together with another rope. Krystal groaned, but kept back the tears as she hung from the one wrist, her body awkwardly contorted by the strange bonds.
"It's a good time to think about what's gonna go down from now on. I want your daughter here for a little while longer," Mike told Carla. He rubbed the back of one hand over the girl's pussy, drawing another moan of delight from the girl. "She's a good pupil – does as well in classes as she does in here. You can visit her when you like – but you'll have to join in."
"I, I don't…"
Carla hesitated, dropping her eyes as she stared at her helpless daughter.
"I'll give you time to think about it. I'll be back," Mike said, nodding to the girl, the leaving the room discreetly.
"Krystal, we can bluff him! I can get you out of here and…"
"Mother, I don't want to go. I want to stay here. He's right," Krystal said, moving her wrist about as little as she could to ease the weighty pain. "I like it here. I belong here… and so do you."
The words shocked Carla into silence. She stood there, watching her daughter twist around in her bonds, thinking of what Krystal had said…
Belong here! Any other mother would have recoiled in horror. But Carla found herself thinking over the situation, then almost smiling as she thought of those "visits". Mike was right. She would think it over – perhaps after he came back and showed her just what he had meant.
After all, it would be interesting visiting her daughter here at this school – certainly more exciting than any open house in a regular school. Discipline, Carla thought with a sigh. The world just needs more discipline.