Candy Winston wriggled away from Ted Balton, her right hand gripping the door of his Thunderbird, her other hand fending him off, while her heart-shaped face adopted one of her inimitable cockteasing looks. "No, don't you understand the meaning of the word, Ted?" she giggled.
"Sure I understand it. I wonder if you ever said yes in your life. You get a guy worked up, you let him-think he's going to score, and then you pull this crap about not being in the mood and asking me what sort of girl I think you are," the angry twenty-five-year-old advertising salesman growled. "I'll tell you what you are, Candy, you're what they call a p.t. And if you don't know what that means, I'll be glad to draw you a diagram."
"Don't bother!" Candy Winston shrugged deliriously dimpled shoulders, her face cold now and insolent. "I couldn't care less what you think about me, Ted Balton. There are plenty of fellows who'd give anything to take me out and make a fuss over me. Just because you had to wait your turn for a date, you think you can get everything done in one night. Well I'm not that sort of girl, that's all."
"And I'll bet something else," he broke in angrily. "You're still cherry. I don't think you've ever been laid, and the way you're acting, somebody's going to have to take it away from you by force."
"And I suppose you think you can try?" she dared, her dark-brown eyes sparkling with mockery. "You'd go to jail for such a long time you wouldn't know what to do with a girl when they let you out. So don't even try it. And you ought to know the old saying that no intelligent man enjoys rape, because he doesn't get any fun from the girl involved. I certainly wouldn't cooperate with you. You might just as well use your hand and jack off when you get home, or else take a cold shower."
[[[ IMAGE 01 ]]]
"Why, you-!" he panted, speechless with fury at her taunting rejection. "Oh yes, you're a virgin all right, Candy Winston. And you also know all the dirty words. I don't think I've ever been out with a girl who ever called it jacking off before."
"Of course I know the facts of life, dummy, if that's what you're suggesting. Only it doesn't mean that I have to let you work them out here in this crowded car. Or in your bed, either. I just don't like a fellow who takes a girl for granted, understand? Now kindly drive me home. And by the way, before I forget it, thanks for a very lovely evening."
Straightening her dress, which had hiked up high on her rounded, shapely thighs, Candy Winston looked straight ahead while her escort, giving her a glowering look, turned the Thunderbird back towards Chicago's North Side. They had been out near the Forest Preserve past Winnetka, and he had been parked in a lowly dirt road with no one in sight for miles, hoping to make out. But for Candy Winston, it was just another triumph in her long career of frustrating a man's passions after leading him on to think that he was going to get pussy. And just as Ted had said, she still was cherry, and she gloried in it.
At twenty, her beauty was piquant and exciting, and of course many a red-blooded male had hopes of being the first to burst through the barrier which kept her from being a woman. The problem was, Candy knew this only too well, and it became a kind of game in which she was an expert. Thus far, she'd only really had problems with one or two of her bolder escorts, who had taken her "No!" hard (because they themselves were aching with their own hardness!) and got sulky and angry enough to want to do her some bodily harm. Even there, though, she'd been able to talk herself out of it, and of course she'd crossed them off her list at once.
About five feet six inches in height, with a sweet and demure face that could be impertinent and saucy and then demure by turns, with large dark-brown eyes set well apart between the bridge of an upturned, thin-winged nose, with a pouting and very ripe red mouth that many men saw in their fantasies wrapped around their cock and doing homage thereunto, Candy Winston might have suggested that famous line about Helen of Troy: "Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, and burned the towers of Ilium?"
But there was much more to Candy than her alluring, maddening face. Her body was that of a showgirl, with high-perched, closely spaced, round titties, slim waist and then ripely curved, resilient hips. Her long and yet wonderfully curved thighs and her high-set calves with their sleek, rippling muscular play, bespoke an ar dent temperament. And then of course her creamy white skin and a fascinating little dark-brown oval-shaped beauty spot just below her collarbone and very near her left tittie. Altogether, Candy Winston was an appetizing dish and the more sought after precisely because she had never before been tasted, to coin a phrase. Or, if one wished to pun still further, one might even have said of her, "Winston tastes good like a sweet cherry should." Except that thus far no man had got close enough to Candy's tempting virgin pussy to be able to teach her the joys of tongue-work on so sensitive a salient of her mouthwatering anatomy.
To be sure, some of Candy's devil-may-care attitude towards the opposite sex might have been attributed to her own parents, who were in the process of breaking up a marriage that had lasted exactly twenty-one years. Douglas Winston, her forty-five-year-old father, had already fallen madly in lust with his auburn-haired secretary, Lucille Colby. And her blonde buxom forty-one-year-old mother Callie, probably because the change of life was drawing very near, was swooning over a handsome black-haired Italian gigolo who claimed to be a Count and who called himself the Conte Enrique Sebastiano Davanti. Actually, his real name was Rico Sforlando, and his father had been a waiter in a fine Italian restaurant in Detroit while the "Count" himself had changed his name and fled from Detroit because he had there conned an elderly widow out of her life's savings by pretending that he was madly in love with her and that he knew just how to invest her money. Some of it he was now lavishing on Callie Winston, with a very shrewd eye to the future, because it looked as if she was going to shed her husband and marry him, and she would then be able to afford him a very considerable dowry.
It was true that Candy Winston knew about her parents, had already sized up the "Count" as a louse who preyed on susceptible women and fascinated them by his good looks. The trouble was, that he had already been to bed with her mother, and her mother had gigglingly told her only last week, "Oh, my darling, Enrique is such a polished lover, such a master, I can't understand how I've been able to stay with your dull, unimaginative father all these years."
But only the day before, when her mother had been out gadding about with Enrique, her father had come to her and, coughing a little and flushing because he was about to make a private confidence to her, intimated that there had never been another girl in bed like Lucille and that with all due apologies to her mother, he was really in love for the very first time in his life.
And so perhaps Candy Winston could not be entirely blamed for her prickteasing qualities, although actually she had started to develop them as early as fourteen when she found that boys were giving her the eye because she was growing up quickly and her big full titties and voluptuous round-cheeked ass were already very much in evidence even at that tender age. When she saw how boys would drool over her if she shifted her legs in the classroom and cross them so that her skirt would hike above her knees and show bare skin up to her little panties, she learned the magical power a female has to make a man pant with lust and do just about everything a girl could ask of him, even to jumping through a hoop if she so desired.
And since her parents were reasonably wealthy, she had had just about every material advantage that money could buy, including a nurse and then a governess, the latter having left her at the age of thirteen because she couldn't put up with Candy's temper tantrums any longer. A number of private schools had already intimated to both parents that they would be happier if the parents took their precocious daughter elsewhere. Oh, not for moral reasons, but simply because Candy was a snob, antisocial to the nth degree, and interested only in stirring up quarrels between the other boys and girls at the schools she attended.
It wasn't a very good track record, and it was going to get steadily worse. Only it was going towards a destination which even Candy herself couldn't possible conjecture!
CHAPTER TWO
Cindy Winston had just finished her junior year at Anderson Girl's College, a highly exclusive and extremely expensive private insitution near Deerfield. Perhaps, surrounded only by girls, that was one reason for her eagerness in dating members of the opposite sex just so that she could exercise her prick-teasing powers. For that matter, although several girls on campus had intimated that they would love to pussy-rub and indoctrinate voluptuous Candy into the sweet rites of Lesbos, she had indignantly declined. That route did not at all appeal to her. And that was natural, too, for the happier and more idealistic side of Lesbianism implies a kind of mutual consent and a sharing, even if it is only in fucking techniques. Candy, of course, was not the sharing kind nor did she wish to be subservient to anyone, least of all one of her own sex. With a man, she believed she could dominate and rule triumphantly, and her excursions into the dating game for which she had thus far emerged unscathed had only served to bolster her over-presumptuous conceit about her own powers and aloofness. In a word, she regarded herself as a kind of virgin princess, quite untouchable and unattainable by mere man. She looked upon all men as if they were her courtiers and vassals, and she tolerated them as part of her flattering and admiring retinue, but she would never tolerate their becoming the least bit intimate-for that would mean giving something of herself.
But this evening, after returning from her date with Ted Balton, she found a telegram in her mailbox which was to change her entire life and her outlook into the bargain, to say nothing of the exalted state which she had bestowed so arrogantly upon herself.
[[[ IMAGE 02 ]]]
Frowning as she opened the mailbox, she tore open the yellow envelope and read a message from her mother Callie, who at the moment was in Acapulco. Then she swore under her breath, though in a lady-like way: "Damn it anyhow!"
The message confirmed what she had already known, that her parents were breaking up their marriage. But it was far worse than that so far as she was concerned. Callie was going to stay in Mexico and entertain a divorce there, then Marry her "Count," while Candy's father had just accepted the post of a vice presidency in a large Eastern industrial firm and, as soon as the divorce was formal, would marry his delectable secretary. Callie therefore informed her daughter that she had talked on the phone long distance to Jennifer Douglas, her older sister. And it appeared that Candy's aunt was anxious to offer her niece a pleasant vacation. Callie urged her daughter to take advantage of this hospitality, because things would be in a state of flux, and for the time being neither parent would be able to spend any time with her this summer.
Finally, Callie Winston left a Mexican phone number and urged her daughter to call at once. And so, a few minutes later, fuming and smoking cigarette after cigarette, dark-brown-haired Candy waited for the operator to complete the connection. Finally it was achieved. "Mother? What the devil is all this nonsense?" was her first question.
"Now, darling," her mother's husky, bedroom voice tried to be soothing. "You mustn't get upset. I just thought it would be a simply marvelous idea if you and Aunt Jennifer, whom I don't think you've really ever met, got better acquainted. Besides, your father and I promised you a vacation this summer, but as you see, we can't keep our promise. Anyway, your aunt lives in a charming little Missouri town, very scenic, and the rest will do you a great deal of good. Of course there's going to be plenty of money, that you don't have to worry about. You'll go on at the Anderson school in the fall, I'm sure."
"But, Mother, I really don't want to leave Chicago this summer. Missouri sounds just horrible."
"I'm afraid you won't have much choice, dear. That's the one thing your father and I do agree on. Neither of us is going to be back in town for at least four or five months, and since he's decided to sign the checks for your allowance, he told me to tell you that you're to go down to Missouri and that your money will be sent to Aunt Jennifer. So you see, dear, it's really best for all concerned."
"Well, I suppose I have to," Candy grumbled, viciously crushing another half-smoked cigarette in the already filled ashtray. "But I certainly don't like the idea. My, God, what am I going to do for three months in a small hick town, with that old woman?"
"Now, Candy, that's no way to talk about your Aunt Jennifer. After all, she's only about forty-five, and she keeps herself up very well, believe me. She has lots of youthful ideas, and you won't even think about her age. I talked to her just an hour ago, and she's quite excited about the idea of having you stay with her. Now you be a good girl and write down her address right now, and her phone number."
"Oh, all right," Candy grumbled again as she lit still another cigarette, then poised her pencil over a scratchpad on the phone table.
"There," her mother concluded. "I suggest you call her or wire her when you can come. And tell Mr. Tolson, the janitor, to look after our apartment until things can be settled. Either your father or I is going to put it up for sale, because it's a condominium, you know. But I want Mr. Tolson to look after it and make sure there aren't any vandals or anything like that. And by the time summer is over, dear, maybe you can stay at the school-they do have dormitories there, don't they?"
"Oh for heaven's sake, Mother, yes, but I wouldn't live there if you paid me!"
"Well, we'll see about that when the time comes, darling. Now I want you to have a perfectly wonderful time. Enrique sends his best."
"Well, I don't reciprocate, you may be sure," Candy disdainfully sniffed. "You know what I think about that pimp."
"Candy Winston! How dare you talk about your future stepfather like that?" her mother angrily exclaimed. "Now you just be a good girl and for once in your life do what you're told."
"All right, Mother, I suppose there's no other way out. But I still don't like the idea. Have fun. Good-bye." The dark-brown-haired beauty, very miffed, at least broke off the connection and hung up. Then she picked up the ashtray and flung it at the wall, regardless of the mess it made. This was all she needed, after that ugly scene with Ted Balton. Well, all right, she'd go down and visit Aunt Jennifer, but maybe she wouldn't go back to school in the fall; maybe she'd find herself a job for herself or something. The idea of going back to that snotty school after spending three months in the Ozarks with all the hillbillies was appalling.
It was too late to call Aunt Jennifer now. She'd do it tomorrow morning. Swiftly undressing, admiring her voluptuous body in the bathroom mirror, Candy Winston got under the shower and was soon scrubbing her magnificent titties and resilient ass, as well as the dark matted thatch of pubic hair which framed her virgin cunt, that orifice of pleasure which Ted Balton had tried to penetrate and to his great disappointment only a few hours ago.
Perhaps if Candy Winston had known what lay in store for her, she might have thought better about his attempt to get into her panties. But then again, perhaps she would have laughed out loud if she had known that Ted Balton was doing at this very moment.
Since Candy had left him with a sizable hard-on, and there wasn't any relief in sight from her, the handsome young advertising salesman had taken out his little black book, phoned a call girl with whom he had had occasional assignations, and at this very moment was in her apartment, happily mounted in her saddle, her long legs and clinging arms wrapped around him, while, closing his eyes and thrusting his prick deep into her seething cunt, he tried to pretend it was Candy Winston he was really fucking.
CHAPTER THREE
Candy's mother Callie might not have been quite so eager to foist off her selfish daughter on her older sister if she had known exactly how Jennifer Danton really felt about her.
She had, however, been quite right when she had told Candy that Jennifer kept herself up very well. At forty-five, Jennifer Danton was still a most desirable woman. About five feet eight inches in height, her hair still black with hardly a trace of gray and coiffed in a strict bun at the back of her head, she had a lithe, svelte body that could still rouse the gleam in a man's eye. She had been doing just that for the past decade to Sheriff Ted Hawkins, who several times had tried to get her to marry him but without success. It annoyed him all the more because he fancied himself the real power of the little town of Kentley, about seventy-two miles southwest of Springfield. The town comprised about thirty-eight hundred citizens including children, and a few of those had been fathered by Sheriff Hawkins himself out of wedlock. There were at least three of them, and each of the mothers had done something wrong which the law officer had found out about, so that she had had to allow him into her bed for a fucking to pay him to keep his mouth shut.
The trouble was that Jennifer Danton knew a great deal about his character, and that was one reason in itself for her refusing his offer of marriage. The other was that she was the sort of woman who much preferred going to bed with members of her own sex instead of men. Ironically, in all her forty-five years of life, she had never once been fucked-and the closest she had ever got was in college when she had let a handsome young senior on top football team get on top of her and try to pull down her panties and put his prick into her pussy. Fear of pregnancy and of the act itself-though she had been stirred by his kisses and fingerings-had made her hold him off so that she saved her cherry.
But there was just one exception. She had fallen madly in love with Douglas Winston, but unfortunately he had picked Callie. And Jennifer Danton had never forgiven her sister for winning the man she herself had really wanted.
Also what Candy didn't know was that her aunt ran a boarding school which catered to girls between the ages of fifteen to twenty. Hers was a select institution, with only about forty pupils. She had two handsome, mature women as her assistants, Delia Henshaw, twenty-nine, auburn-haired and buxom, and Lucille Emory, thirty-two, slim, imperious, light-brown-haired.
She had bought an old house ten years ago, with three stories and an attic. Through remodeling, she had reverted the house into dormitory rooms for her students, quarters for her two aids and herself, and enlarged the attic so that it could become a kind of assembly hall. In the basement, there was recreation equipment like rolling machines, vaulting horses and even gymnasium rings. But the basement was used also for punishments, for Jennifer Danton believed in corporal chastisement for naughty girls. Moreover, having been a schoolteacher in a rural school not far from where she had finally settled down, she had managed to attract girls whose relatives or separated parents were quite happy to have them out of the way and were also only too glad to write her a letter authorizing her to spank them when in her opinion they needed it.
And since Jennifer Danton was a sadist in addition to being a lesbian, this arrangement enchanted her. Her aids, Delia and Lucille, shared not only her bed but also her views on the value of whipping or spanking a naughty girl from time to time.
It was thus to this singular boarding-house school that Candy Winston was destined for the most eventful summer of her relatively short life....
Ted Hawkins, Jennifer's own age, was nearly bald, stout, with a fleshy mouth and bulbous nose. He had a florid complexion and a thick Missouri drawl. He seemed apathetic and sluggish, but to consider him that was to underestimate him completely. He owned some of the best property in the town, although he was careful to have the deeds registered in the names of his cousins and trustworthy friends. He was practically the law in Kentley, and her particularly enjoyed dealing with "hippies" and runaways of the female variety. His quite modern jail, which housed fifteen prisoners at maximum, afforded him many delightful opportunities for enjoying the trembling naked charms of a young girl vagrant whom he had locked up for the night and whom he had threatened to send to jail for a long term. By means of bullying and terrifying the prisoner, he almost invariably forced her to yield herself to escape the threatened punishments. But most of all, he enjoyed spanking or whipping his victims, because it not only aroused him to savage lust but it also served to cow the girls so that they would not struggle when he fucked them or made them kneel down and take out his cock and French him lovingly-unless, of course, they preferred another thrashing.
[[[ IMAGE 03 ]]]
Ted Hawkins had been born a farmer, but he had spent his heritage in drinking and on women. However, he was smart enough to realize that he had to earn his daily bread and so he began to make friends with the influential businessmen of the town. Ten years ago, he had been elected sheriff, and since then he had kept Kentley as clean as a whistle, costing the town fathers very little money in the way of taxes or expenses for the conduct of his jail. His salary was modest, but here and there he knew where he could dip his finger into many pies, and he did.
Of course he knew about Jennifer Danton's school, but he had never really investigated it. If he had done so, he would have been wildly anxious to make Jennifer submit to him so that the two of them together could have all those forty pretty girls at his disposal. But exactly because she had refused herself to him, over the years he had developed a smoldering lust for her, and no day went by when he did not imagine what it would be like to throw her down on the bed, rip off her clothes, and stick his cock deep into her cunt and show her what she had been missing all these years by turning him down.
It was the day before the Fourth of July, and Ted Hawkins was looking forward to an interesting evening. This morning, while he had been driving around in his Ford station wagon to which he had added a siren and a revolving light on the top of the car just like a big-city squadrols, he had seen a tall young girl stop down the highway, and then run into an old cornfield to the north. He speeded up the car, parked it and got out, his gun drawn. "Come out of there, you!" he had called. And then he had fired a warning shot into the air. Terrified, the fugitive had emerged, her hands high in the air, her face very pale, stammering, "I didn't do nuttin', Mister, don't shoot!"
He had made her get into the car with him, driven her back to town and locked her up into one of the cells. Before doing so, he had interrogated her. She reluctantly admitted that she had run away from her stepfather in Nastinville, a little hamlet about eighteen miles south. Her name was Betsy Wymer, she was seventeen, and she also confessed to have stolen some of her stepfather's money in order to make good her escape. Ted Hawkins had grinned and picked his yellow, nicotine-stained teeth with a toothpick as he had listened to the girl and studied her. She was a nice sweet piece of ass, and it had been about two weeks since he had any. Betsy Wymer was going to help him celebrate the Fourth of July, starting this very evening.
He finished up his paperwork, locked it in his desk, then yawned and then got up, stretching his arms and legs. Then he slowly went across the street to Borchard's Eatery, the only restaurant in town, but quite a good one, with home-cooked meals at quite reasonable prices. There he ordered a chicken dinner for his prisoner, with plenty of mashed potatoes and two ears of corn. Half an hour later, he carried the tray back into his office, opened the door which led along a narrow corridor and thence at the back of the building to the neat iron-barred cells. Betsy Wymer was the only occupant at the moment, which was exactly what he wanted.
"I brought you some grub, Betsy. Eat hearty!" he ordered as he unlocked the door and set the tray down on her bunk. He noticed that she was trembling as she stood quickly and went to press her back against the wall, as far away from him as she could get in the narrow cell. The bunk wasn't too long, but it would do fine for a bed tonight when he came to fuck her. He didn't really have the energy this hot day to drive her to his little house about three miles west, but he'd get plenty of mileage out of Betsy tonight without having to move her at all.
"I even brought you a glass of ice tea, honey. And a piece of apple pie. Now you eat good, and then we'll talk about what's going to happen to you," he added with a jovial grin.
"Do I have to-do I have to go back to my stepfather, Mr. Hawkins?"
"We'll talk about that, like I said, when I get back. Now you just eat up. This town spent plenty of money on your dinner, so don't you go wasting it none, hear me?"
"Y-yes, s-sir," she quavered.
"That's a good girl. See you later, Betsy," he said affably. Then he went out of the cell, locked the door, grinned at her, and then walked slowly back to his office and closed the narrow door connecting it and the corridor which led to the cells. Now he would go have his own supper, maybe a couple of drinks over at Pete's saloon, and by then he'd be feeling the urge to haul his ashes. And that long-legged piece of squirming ass, Betsy, was going to do the job for him, and he could hardly wait. She had such a mournful, pretty face on her, she just made a man naturally get horny. She had nice pearly white skin, too, and he could hardly wait until he started to rip her duds off her to see what kind of tits she had and whether she had had any fucking in that cute little snatch of hers. He had a feeling that maybe she had already made out. That would make it even better. It was too damned messy with cherries, though of course it was a lot of fun to hear them yell and squeal when you were putting cock to them and pressing your way inside for the very first time ever.
CHAPTER FOUR
At about the same time Sheriff Ted Hawkins was about to make his way down the corridor towards Betsy Wymer's cell, Candy Winston was getting into a rural bus at Springfield which would take her on to Kentley and her aunt's house. She had talked to Aunt Jennifer on the phone and the latter had told her that her mother had made all the arrangements, that her allowance would be given to her, and that she should look upon the house as a kind of summer place where she could enjoy herself.
Candy Winston wasn't the least bit happy about being buried in a rube town for three hot summer months, but there wasn't much she could do about it. She didn't care for the scenery of the Ozarks; it looked like a lot of dreary farms all sprung out with a few hills and creeks and stretches of road all mixed up. It wasn't her idea of fun at all, and she told herself that she would try to find some way to escape. Maybe she could get to Los Angeles or even Las Vegas and have some real fun.
Sheriff Ted Hawkins was enjoying the last inch on a good cigar which Pete Helmerton, owner of the best saloon in town, had given him while he had enjoyed a few beers. He really didn't want any hard whiskey; that might make him too sleepy, and he didn't want to be that way when he went to visit that sweet long-legged bitch of a Betsy.
Inside his office, having pulled down the shade so that no one could look from the street, he changed into slacks and a sleeveless shirt, with no underwear. He didn't need underwear. All he had to do was yank down his zipper and sweet little Betsy Wymer was going to take what came or else!
From the drawer of his desk he pulled out a short rubber spanker. It was something like a truncheon, with a round handle about five inches long and a narrow rectangular applicator about a foot long, half an inch thick and about two inches wide. It was made of springy rubber, but it made a loud noise when it came down on a girl's bare ass. It caused a lot of pain but it didn't leave any permanent marks or do any real damage. Already his prick was starting to throb and stiffen against his fly as he carefully unlocked the narrow door, went down the corridor after first locking the door from the inside, and walk very slowly and as quietly as he could. The row of cells was dark, of course, but he knew exactly where the light switch was. He heard a startled gasp: "W-who's th-there?" and he grinned to himself. This was going to be duck soup.
"It's me, Betsy," he called softly.
"Oh, thank-thank goodness, Sheriff! I was so scared-"
"What's the matter, you figger somebody was coming in and maybe bang you, baby?" he coarsely asked, looking out a guffaw. Now he reached for the light switch and flicked it on.
He grinned cruelly as he saw Betsy standing there in the cell directly facing him, her hands gripping the bars, but her eyes very wide with fear and her face pale. That was exactly the mood he wanted her to be in. It would be a lot easier convincing her to spread those long legs of hers and let him have pussy.
"How-how long do I have to stay in this awful place, S-Sheriff?" Betsy's voice trem bled with an anxiety.
"That depends a lot on you, honey." He pulled up a round, leather-padded stool, seated himself, belched (he had had roast beef tonight) and lit a fresh cigar which he took out of the pocket of his short sleeved shirt. He enjoyed this cat and mouse game with the victim, because it worked him up and made the girl scared; then it was really fun when she started finding out what was really happening to her. She would be real nice to lick, though maybe he ought to have brought a switch. She was sort of tall, about five seven, and she didn't have too much meat on her ass. And it was a sort of boyish, tight little ass, but nice long legs and calves. Her bubbies weren't bad, either. They were high-perched, uptilting a little, not too big, but nice and perky. And her light-brown hair tumbled in tousled curls over one side of her face and made her really look sexy. All she had on was a pair of jeans, loafers and anklet socks, and a man's blue tee shirt. He could see the outline of a skimpy bra under the tee shirt, and he licked his lips with anticipation.
"Wh-what do you mean S-Sheriff?" she really sounded scared now, and he grinned again.
"Like I said, it's all up to you, honey. Now I guess I could take you back where you came from, that little dump where your stepfather is, but I guess he'd whale the hell out of your ass for running away and stealing his dough. You could really go to jail for that if he wanted to send you. At least reform school. You'd be in there with matrons who'd like to take a rubber hose or a paddle to your butt, Betsy, you wouldn't like that one bit."
"Oh no, please don't send me back! He-he tried to-to do things to me. You know, S-Sheriff. He married my mama six months ago, but he's been making up to me ever since. And she lets him. I don't know what's got into her, she gets drunk all the time. Please help me, Sheriff," the girl pleaded, tears glistening in her wide blue eyes.
"Then again," he drawled as if she hadn't even said anything, "I could just look the other way, see, keep you here a couple of days just so you'd have your punishment for being a naughty girl. Then I'd give you a couple of bucks, steer you on down the road and you're on your own. Get me?"
"Oh, please, please, Sheriff! I don't ever want to go back to that awful man or even to my Mama!" Betsy Wymer pleaded.
"Well, it's all up to you, honey. Now, tell you what. Take off that teeshirt. Hell, that's for a boy, and you ain't no boy, nohow," he leered.
"I-I don't want to undress-not in front of you, Sheriff, please. My stepdaddy, he was always coming to my room when I was putting my clothes on or something, and he made me feel just awful. Please don't ask me to do that."
"I can see you're a little uppity, Betsy girl, and you're a vagrant. You got no call to act that way. I guess I'm going to have to learn you a good lesson." With this, he rose from the stool, cupped the truncheon under one arm, and then unlocked her cell and entered. Betsy Wymer uttered a cry and cowered on the edge of her bunk, clasping her hands and looking up at him fearfully.
"Now you listen to me, you little bitch. I get hundreds like you comin' in here through a year, with some song and dance about running away from home, get me? For all I know, you might'a gone on the lam because maybe you pulled some robbery job or something, see? So I'm going to get the truth out of you. And I'm going to start by giving you a good whaling, Betsy girl. Now take off the tee shirt before I tear it off you, hear me?" With this, he raised the spanker and her frightened eyes fixed on it as she uttered a cry of terror and hastily tugged off the thin garment and let it drop to the floor of the cell.
He licked his lips. It was like taking candy away from a baby. She had on a white cotton bra, and it hugged her tits real nice. Before she could anticipate his next move, Sheriff Ted Hawkins had ripped it off.
"Ohhh! Oh, please don't do that! You haven't got any right to do that to me, Sheriff!"
"And now we got a little jailhouse lawyer with us, looks like," he chuckled thickly, his prick aching to be free and at work. "Stand up! Be quick about it, or I'll really whip the hell out Of your ass, girl. I'm the law here, and what I say goes. Now up with you."
Sobbing fitfully, the half-naked girl slowly rose to her feet.
"Now peel off those jeans," was his next order.
"Oh please, don't make me do that-owwouch-that hurts-oh please don't, don't hit me-please, you haven't got any right, you're not supposed to treat prisoners this way, I know you're not-owww, please, you're hurting me something fierce, Sheriff-ohhh, owww, all right, I'll take them off, for God's sake stop hitting me with that awful thing!" she screamed. He had suddenly seized her by the upper left arm, set his left foot on the edge of the bunk, bent her down across it and, raising the spanker, given her half a dozen solid whacks over the boyishly compact cheeks of her enticing ass. She didn't have much under the jeans, he knew, because they stretched real tight and he could see the crease between the cheeks. She kicked and screamed, and finally agreed to do what he wanted. He let go of her, with a growled: "Get them off fast!"
Sobbing as if her heart would break, Betsy Wilmer stooped and began to tug down her jeans. He made her sit down on the bunk and pull them off, along with her loafers, and he saw that she was wearing matching cotton panties and the anklets. At once she huddled her arms over her titties, but a blow on each wrist from the spanker made her drop her arms and start to cry as she bowed her head in frantic shame.
"Now," he said thickly, "I want those pants off fast, you hear, bitch? Either that, or I'll whup them off your ass, so help me!"
"Ohhh, please, S-Sheriff, don't do this to me-I'm a good girl-I wouldn't let my step-daddy do it, please, please, that's why I ran away, don't you understand?" the half-naked girl sobbingly clasped her hands and stared poignantly up at the gloating lawman-His beady little eyes glinted as they fixed on the sweet nubs of her bubbies, soft pink tips set in marrow rosy aurolae. He could see the shallow wide cleft of her bellybutton; and the pale white skin, with dainty freckles on shoulders and arms, made his prick savagely rampant.
[[[ IMAGE 04 ]]]
"All right, I see I gotta learn you good, once and for all, Betsy," he growled. Seating himself on the bunk, laying down the spanker beside him, he reached for the slim young teenager, caught her by the shoulders and viciously pulled her over his lap from left to right. At the same time, raising his right leg, he clamped it over her neck, so that her face was only inches from the floor and she was absolutely powerless. Betsy Wymer uttered a shrill cry of pain and terror. Chuckling lecherously, he now used both hands to tug her cotton panties down to mid-thigh, exposing the saucy, boyishly compact cheeks of her smooth white ass, which tightened convulsively in a frantic attempt to conceal as much of her person as she could. This was the spanking position in reverse, but he prided himself on being able to deal out backhanded blows that would pain her just as much as if she were lying in the proper position over his lap.
Her legs kicked wildly, and she tried to squirm off his lap, but now he put his right hand against her bare side, the dirty, broken fingernails digging into the soft tender flesh. Then, reaching for the spanker with his left hand, he lifted it up and brought it down with a solid THWACKK! over the tops of her jouncy hips. A wild cry of pain at once rose and Betsy twisted and squirmed with all her strength, but was absolutely helpless. His fat thigh pressed hard against her neck and shoulders, forcing her down, and he gouged her bare side with his fingernails as he panted, "Now I'm going to learn you, you little bitch! You're gonna be sorry you didn't do what I said right off, Betsy girl. And then you'd better be nice once you learn your lesson, 'cause otherwise, I'm gonna lock you up here for six months and let you rot, you hear?
But first, I'm going to whup that perky ass of yours till you know how to respect your betters."
Then, his eyes glistening as they swept the huddling white cheeks of Betsy Wymer's ass, on the top of which a darkening band of agonycolor was already imprinted, he lifted his left hand and delivered a second, then a third and a fourth smack, all three over the ripest curve of that tightly spaced pair of bottom hemispheres. Piteous cries and sobbing entreaties burst out at once as the frantic naked girl clutched at his right leg with her slim fingers, trying to ease the torturing and strangling clamp of his pinioning right leg over her neck. Her legs kicked this way and that, and he grinned, appreciating her suffering and shame. Now the spanker began to rise and fall rapidly, with crisp smacks ringing out, punctuated by feverish cries, hysterical sobbing and babbling supplications: "Ahoww! Oh please, S-S-Sheriff, I can't stand ityou're killing me-owwouu!!! Oh please, it hurts, I'll be good, oh please don't, I can't stand it anymore, I can't! Owwoeee!!! Oh my neck, Sheriff, please, you're hurting me so bad-oh please, what do you want, please stop it!"
But he did not stop until he had given her at least forty stinging smacks with the rubber spanker, leaving her bottom violently inflamed and shuddering uncontrollably. Her face was congested and wet with tears, and she fought for breath as he set the spanker down on the bunk beside him. "Now then, you gonna do whatcher told, huh, bitch?" he panted. "Or do you wanna have some more, maybe?"
"Ohhh noooo! Please, no more, it hurts so, oh you like to have killed me, S-S-Sheriff!" Betsy Wymer moaned.
His prick was bulging now, mad for appeasement. "All right, get off," he grunted, as he lifted his right leg. The weeping naked teenager slid down to her knees on the cold stone floor, both her hands feverishly rubbing her burning ass. He shifted himself so that he turned towards her, then pointed to the bulge in the fly of his slacks. "You know what to do now, bitch. 'Lessen you want another dose," he muttered hoarsely.
But Betsy Wymer was a true virgin, and she did not comprehend his meaning. She stared up at him with questioning, tear-blinded eyes, "You dumb bitch, take my cock out and suck it some!" he snarled, again reaching for the rubber spanker.
"Oh, I couldn't do that, don't make me do a filthy thing like that, Sheriff, oh please no! You're no better than my step daddy was, oh please, you ain't got no right to do this to me, you ain't!" the girl wailed tragically.
"I ain't, huh?" he grinned sadistically. He grabbed the spanker, transferred it to his right hand, and then shot out his left hand to twist his fingers in her light-brown tousled curls, yanking at them so as to tilt back her head. Almost in the same motion, he leaned forward and applied a glancing blow of the rubber instrument across the upper curve of her bare left tittie. A frenzied scream of indescribable anguish tore from the naked girl, and both hands at once clutched the wounded part and tried to soothe it. Chuckling evilly, he applied the spanker to the other loveglobe, this time right across the nipple. Betsy Wymer's maddened cry was almost a bellow, such as a dying animal might make in the throes of its last agony. "Oohhhahhrrrowwwooo!!! Not there, Sheriff, fer God's sake, not there on my bubbies!"
"You gonna do what I toldja to, then, Betsy?" he wheezed as he lifted up the spanker for another blow.
"Oh yes-oh please don't hit me there anymore, please don't, you'll kill me, please!" she whimpered.
"Then get to work and do a good job, or I sure will spank your tits and then give you another good dose on your ass, girl," he ordained.
Leaning back against the wall of the cell, straddling his fat thighs, Sheriff Ted Hawkins smirked triumphantly as the weeping girl crawled humbly to him, put up a trembling hand and began to tug down the zipper of his slack. At once his prick popped out, and she uttered a sobbing little gasp and recoiled. But once again his left hand shot out, the fingers yanking her hair, as he raised his right fist and menaced her with it: "Now you jist plumb do what I told you to, you little whore. Otherwise, I'm really gonna work you over. Now do it!"
Shuddering, her teeth chattering with loathing, the weeping naked teenager slowly obeyed. Bowing her head to the turgid shaft with the plum-shaped head tautly pointed at her, she forced herself to brush it with her lips and then, at his angry order, to take the tip inside her mouth and began to nuzzle and suck at it.
He gave her explicit directions, laughing cruelly when she choked and gagged at the hideous task. And when he felt himself close to pitch, he shoved her head away and smiled, "Now git on that bunk on your back and git ready for a hosing!"
Betsy dragged herself to her feet, holding on to the edge of the bunk, her haggered face turned in poignant supplication towards him. For answer, he seized the spanker and dealt her a wicked thwack across the base of her burning ass, and with a wild yell of pain, the unfortunate young teenager scrambled onto the bunk and lay on her back, covering her face with one arm, her lovely perky titties rising and falling violently.
Without more ado, Sheriff Ted Hawkins fell upon her. His hands squeezed her panting titties as brutally he pressed himself against the soft petals of her twat. Betsy's face twisted this way and that, her eyes rolling to the whites. With a scream, she announced the sacrifice of her cherry, trying to twist away from him. Now deeply planted inside of her, he slipped his hands down under her ass and squeezed the pain-throbbing cheeks until she screamed again. Then his greedy mouth covered her, drowning out her cries and he began to fuck her.
CHAPTER FIVE
Candy Winston had been given a room at the back on the first floor of the old, remodeled house, and she was more convinced than ever that this was going to be the most boring summer of her life. She couldn't have been more wrong. Just about the time she was settling herself down to sleep in a comfortable wide bed, grumbling to herself about her mother's stupidity and taking off with that gigolo and thus disrupting her life, her aunt was escorting a tear ful and very attractive pupil down the stairs to the basement for a punishment session.
Candy wouldn't have recognized her aunt. Jennifer Danton had showered, coiffed her hair into a regal coronet braid, and then put on a one-piece black leather body sheath, whose gusseting flap pressed against her pussy and could be detached for reasons which would soon be evident. She wore matching black leather boots to mid-thigh, and shoulder-length gloves, and the girl she was urging on ahead of her and down the stairs of the basement glanced back furtively, uttering little gasps of fear.
"Go right on in, Adele," Jennifer Danton ordered. "I couldn't believe my ears when Miss Henshaw told me that she found you and Patsy Brogan doing nasty things together. Don't you worry, Patsy is getting her punishment too, and Miss Henshaw is giving it to her in her own private room. But you, an older girl, you're going to get the real punishment because it was you who started it, wasn't it?"
"Oh please, M'am, please don't wh-whip me, please don't! I couldn't help it, honest I couldn't, Patsy came into bed with me and she started fooling around-"
"You little liar! I've been keeping my eyes on you, Adele Corley, and I know just what you're capable of. It was you that got into Patsy's bed, more likely, and it was a good thing Miss Henshaw was checking on the rooms last night. Now go on in!" And with this, the dominatress gave the sobbing teenager a shove forward.
Adele Corley was seventeen, her black hair drawn to a thick ponytail, of medium height and with an exquisitely provocative and saucy face. Her big gray-green eyes were fringed with thick black lashes which needed no mascara, and her dainty little snub nose and petulant, small but ripe mouth suggested the sensuality of which she was being convicted and for which she was about to atone. Like all the girls at Jennifer Danton's school, she wore the regulation black cotton dress, whose skirt descended to just an inch above her knees. Under it was a white cotton slip, and white cotton bra and panties, but with black nylon hose high on her plump thighs secured by old-fashioned elastic garters. Her skin was olive-sheened, and her body was already mouthwateringly ripe. Her bubbies, closely spaced and already quite large and round, heaved erratically against the bodice of the school dress, and the skirt hugged lovingly her plump thighs and lusciously jutting, spaciously rounded asscheeks.
Adele was scarlet-faced, biting her ripe lower lip and glancing apprehensively at Jennifer Danton as she reluctantly moved ahead along the stone floor of the huge basement. Half of it had been cut off by a metal screen which locked, and the dominatress now produced the key from a small pocket over her left tittie, unlocked it and pulled the doors, then gestured for the trembling culprit to go ahead.
Adele uttered a cry of fright and drew back, but already Jennifer's gloved left hand had seized her by her ponytail, and the stern lesbian saidst hissed, "No you don't, you naughty little bitch! You're going to pay for being such a little slut! Now start by taking off your dress and slip at once and lay them down over that straight backed chair!"
"Please-pi-please, d-don't wh-whip me, Miss D-Danton," Adele Corley sniffled, big tears running down her flushed face. "I won't ever do it again, honest I won't!"
"I'm sure you won't, at least not with young girls in this school," was the caustic answer. "Obey, or it will be the worse for you, young lady!"
Sobbing dolefully, the pretty teenager drew off the black dress and then the slip, and stood in her bra and panties, black hose and garters, her hands clasped, looking more frightened than ever as the leather-sheathed imperatrix glanced round this section of the basement, which she had had equipped with punishment devices. To her right and at the far end was a pair of trapeze bars, and beside them a pair of rings let down from the ceiling. There was a metal triangle, with a single wristcuff soldered at the peak which would force the culprit to lift her arms as high as she could, the cuffs then making fast both wrists; two cuffs at the base and at each end of the legs held the ankles captive, thus straddling and tractioning the culprit ideally.
[[[ IMAGE 05 ]]]
There was also a broad leather-padded spanking stool with buckling straps; a whipping bench with a domed cushion in the middle over which the victim's belly would rest, thus projecting up her condemned ass to the kisses of the whip or paddle or strap or birch cane, depending on the whims of Jennifer Danton.
There was also a sawhorse, and this Adele dreaded most of all, for she had heard two other girls weepingly detail their ordeal when they had been condemned, for an equally grave sin, to be tied down over this device and whipped, their sporadic movements rubbing their tender pussies against the sharp ridge of the horizontal top piece.
"I see what bothers you most, Adele," Jennifer Danton grinned cruelly. "It's the horse, isn't it?"
"Y-yes, M-M'am," poor Adele blubbered.
"Well, that is exactly the punishment you are to receive. Take down your panties now and climb astride it, and be quick about it!"
Adele, bursting into fresh sobs, managed nonetheless to tug down the white cotton panties and to step out of them, exposing her magnificent, plump, rounded bottomglobes whose pure olive-sheened skin twitched in justifiable apprehension. Then, still whimpering, and her lips trembling pitiably, the delectably almost-naked teenager stumbled forward toward the sawhorse and cautiously mounted it. She made exquisite grimaces as her furry cunt at once came into contact with the sharp wooden ridge, and she did not lower herself, but remained in an upright pose, both her hands gripping the ridge ahead of her as she looked back to implore pardon from her stern executioner: "Oh please, m'am, not the sawhorse, please not that! I-I'll take double anywhere else, honest I will, but please let me off this, gee, just this once, please!"
"Stop your sniveling, Adele!" Jennifer Danton hissed. She came forward quickly now, put her left hand to the scruff of the girl's neck and forced her down. With a cry of anguish, Adele let herself be draped forward, the ridge hitting her between her plump round widely-spaced bubbies encased in their thin cotton bra. "Let your arms hang down now," was the next order.
And as the sobbing girl obeyed, Jennifer Danton squatted, took lengths of rope, and made them fast to each wrist at the base of the legs of the apparatus.
A moment later, Adele's ankles were similarly corded, and then she began to sob in earnest: "Owwooooh, oh, it cuts me between my legs, oh it hurts something fierce, please let me off, please!"
She was really exciting in this pose. Stretched, her legs and arms tightly drawn to the legs of the device, her big plump young bottom exposed and the cheeks distended in all their lushness and milky-skinned beauty, the broadening crack between the globes were even more lasciviously widened, so that Jennifer Danton could see the plump lips of Adele's pussy framed by the luxuriant black pussycurls. Needless to say, the painful ordeal of the sawhorse would augment the whipping, because the slightest movement of the girl under punishment would grind her tender cunt against the ridge.
"It is very appropriate that you are being punished in this way, Adele," Jennifer now dryly declared as she once more went to the wall at her right to take down from one of the many hooks which supported the arsenal of whipping instruments, a three-thonged black leather martinet. The lashes were tapered, and the very tips ended in notched points which would add extra sting when they made impact with tightly drawn bare flesh. "You know perfectly well what I mean, Adele. The idea, thinking you could get away with a dirty trick like that with Patsy! It wasn't enough for you to play with yourself and use your finger, you had to go and teach a younger girl the disgusting act! So I want you to suffer exactly where you had your pleasure, perhaps you will learn your lesson from this. Now then, young lady, you are going to count thirty lashes on your big naked behind. Any that you don't count will be extras, do you understand?"
"Ohhh, gee, oh please don't, oh not so many, m'am, I won't be able to stand it, I know I won't, oh please let me off, please, I'll be so good, I'll never do it again!" Adele sobbed hysterically as she turned her tearstained face back toward the implacable dominatress.
But Candy's aunt had already taken her place at the victim's left, was raising the martinet and now added, "Don't forget to count!" as she brought down the whip. The three black leather thongs darted out over the olivesheened ass, clinging to it tenaciously. Adele's almost naked body jerked convulsively, and a piercing yell was torn from her: "Awwrrroouuu!! Oh please don't, oh it hurts, it tears me, I can't stand it!"
Without a word, the dominatress brought the martinet down again in almost the same place. Again Adele's body leaped and squirmed, and a frantic cry of pain was wrested from her: "Eeeyeowwouuu!! Oh please, I won't ever do it again, I promise, oh please stop it, oh have mercy on me, Miss Danton, I won't ever do it again, honest!"
"You had better start counting." Thwackkk!! For the third time, the martinet slashed down, but this time straight across the ripest curves of both huddling plump asscheeks. Adele's bottom weaved and lunged, and a shrill scream tore from her panting throat: "Oawwrrahhahh! Threeeee!!"
"Oh no, my girl, you haven't counted the first one, so it hasn't even started." And with this, the whip came down for the fourth time, striking the base of the shuddering and squirming bottomcheeks.
"Aiiii! One, oh please, oh I can't stand it, have mercy!" Adele wailed.
"Just remember to count or you'll be here all night, Adele," was the sadistic answer.
Then slowly, gloating over the helpless teenager's suffering, drinking in Adele's cries and tears and hysterical, babbling supplications, watching the lovely perspiring nearly bare body wrench at her bonds and arch and twist and flatten herself, Jennifer Danton continued the flogging. Adele, her head tilted back, her eyes bulging, screamed and yelled at almost every stroke, but she managed to count all except three which were particularly painful; the tips of the lashes leaped into the shadowy crease between the asscheeks, torturing her virgin bumhole, drawing maddened screams and the most frenzied contortions on the horse.
Finally she managed to count out the thirtieth, and sagged, her body trembling uncontrollably.
Jennifer Danton let the martinet drop to the floor. Then she began to untie the moaning girl. "Very well, you may get off," she ordered.
And when Adele Corley had done so, she commanded: "Kneel down now, and thank me for being so lenient with you."
This too the unfortunate culprit did, her face drowned with tears, her voice breaking with racking sobs.
"So you want to play with girls, do you," the dominatress mocked her. "Very well, I'll give you your chance. Unfasten the flap of my sheath. You see how to do it, be quick about it!"
Adele's trembling fingers found the way to the gussetpiece, loosened it, exposing the lesbian's cunthole.
"All right now, take hold of my thighs with your hands, Adele, and lick and suck and kiss my pussy. If you are a very good girl and make me come, I will do as much for you. And the next time you want such satisfaction, come to see me in person and express yourself, or you will have a worse thrashing than this, I can promise you," Jennifer Danton purred.
And there in her basement, while Candy Winston found restless sleep in this strange house so far away from home, her aunt was being gamahuched by a teenaged girl. And when it was over, the sobbing Adele was ordered to lie down on the whipping bench on her back, after which Jennifer Danton, removing the corselet entirely, mounted over her and began to grind cunt to cunt, ordering her sobbing victim to wind her arms and legs around her and to give her back kiss for passionate kiss.
CHAPTER SIX
Candy Winston sat primly in the chair in front of her aunt's big mahogony desk, and hoped she didn't look as bored as she felt. Jennifer Danton had been pleasant, but rather cool, and she had assigned Candy to a private room all her own, much to the latter's relief. After what her mother had told her about dormitories, Candy had been afraid that she would be forced to room with some absolute drip, some pupil who was sent away to be smart and got rid of by her folks who didn't want to bother with her. At least, thank goodness, Mother didn't expect her to spend this summer studying under Aunt Jennifer, gratefully thought to herself.
"Now then, Candy," her aunt began with a brief smile, "what we have to do is to find some way of making this a kind of vacation for you. I know it must be rather dreary, being in a small town so far away from home. But we do have a recreation yard-"
"Aunt Jennifer," Candy interrupted, "I happen to be twenty years old, 'I'm finished with school as far as I'm concerned, and I didn't want to come here in the first place. Do you have any horseback riding or tennis or anything like that? Or can I go swimming?"
"We do have a small private pool in the basement of this school of mine," her aunt conceded. "Horseback riding isn't one of the privileges I allow my girls, however. Nor is tennis. They play volleyball, sometimes a little soccer, but mostly they do setting-up exercises. Gymnastics, you know, to keep the muscles and the skin in tone. I'm afraid you'll have to shift for yourself as best you can, my dear."
"I sort of get the idea you really didn't want me to come here in the first place, Aunt Jennifer," Canday said very peevishly. Since she was never very considerate of other people's feelings, she didn't notice the shadow of annoyance which passed over her aunt's imperious face.
Controlling herself with an effort, Jennifer Dalton merely remarked, "Well, the fact is, your mother begged me to take you. I know it sounds like charity, dear, but this school is really not a place for a city-bred young lady, especially one who is looking forward to dating young men. I may assure you, here and now, Candy, that my girls have absolutely no contact with boys. In fact, most of the girls here are being brought up by relatives, not parents, and they are quite a ways away from their original homes. Naturally I have to look after their morals, so of course no boys are permitted and no dating is allowed."
"Thank you very much. I'll find something to do. I just hope I don't have to stay here all summer," Candy Winston said as she rose abruptly and walked out of her aunt's office.
Again she failed to notice the irritability which she had caused her mother's older sister, and she didn't have the power to read other peoples' minds, or she would have been horrified at what Jennifer Danton was thinking right now: I'd like to take that young lady down to the-punishment room, undress her, and give her a taste of the whip on her big bottom. I'd like to make her howl and dance, I'd like to hear her beg for mercy and promise not to be so insolent from now on.
* * *
Sheriff Hawkins had brought tearful Betsy Wymer a big breakfast on a tray, two pork chops, fried potatoes, toast, coffee, and a glass of orange juice. He was in an affable mood as he unlocked the door of her cell.
Betsy uttered a feverish cry, clapped one hand over her pussy and shrank back against her bunk. "Oh please, S-Sheriff, don't-don't hurt me anymore!" she whimpered.
"Now, is that any way for a sweet little girl like you to talk, honey?" he chuckled. "I'm going to stay here till you finish every bite. 'Course, y'unnerstand that I paid for this breakfast out of my own pocket. Hell, the county don't have that much dough to afford fancy breakfast for a little tramp and runaway like you, Betsy girl. So you better eat it up fast and don't waste any."
Cowering, the young girl obeyed him. His eyes roved her naked body. When he had finished with her last night, he had stripped her absolutely naked, even stockings. Now his eyes greedily devoured her panting titties, and he felt his prick harden when he saw how she was struggling to clench her thighs together so that she wouldn't show her pussy. He thought he might keep her another few days and nights, and then probably turn her back to her stepfather. What he would really like to do was go back with her and watch what her old man would do to her for running away like that. A good sound licking and then probably a screwing. But then, a timid little bitch like Betsy wasn't good for much except fucking and whipping anyhow.
[[[ IMAGE 06 ]]]
For a moment, his mind turned to that crazy old house which Jennifer Danton had bought and turned into a private school. One of these days, he was going to pay for a right neighborly social call. Not that there'd been any scandal or rumors of anything amiss over there, but just the same, as the law in Kentley, it was up to him to make sure that Jennifer Danton was running the place strictly on the up and up. And there was sure an awful lot of sweet young cunt over there, too.
Again his mind wandered, while poor Betsy Wymer hastened to eat if only to propitiate the man who had whipped and fucked and brutalized her so dreadfully last night. Sheriff Ted Hawkins was thinking about his gangling, towheaded twenty-year-old nephew Philip. Actually, his older brother had got a timid brown-haired bitch (not unlike Betsy Wymer) into trouble and had had to marry her. She'd died in childbirth, and his brother had remarried about six months later. He'd had sort of a bad financial time, so Sheriff Ted Hawkins had helped out. Hell, he'd even partly paid for Phil's education in Springfield, and seen to it that his nephew had a few advantages. The boy was al ready a cocksmith, a real chip off his own block.
Right now, Phil was taking a special course in Springfield, a two-week "orientation," they called it, in the duties and responsibilities of law enforcement people. Maybe Phil would decide to come to Kentley instead of staying with his folks. Sheriff Ted Hawkins sure hoped so, because he wanted to groom his nephew to take over his job one day, and it wouldn't be a bad idea if Phillip began to find out exactly how to make the law work for him ... just as his uncle was doing right now with this cute little piece of cunt Betsy Wymer.
"I-Pve finished, S-Sheriff," Betsy quavered.
"Why, so you have, honey!" Ted Hawkins guffawed. "I'll just take the tray now and set it outside, and then you and me are gonna get to know each other better, huh, honey?"
"Oh please-oh please don't-not anymore-please-" she began to sob.
"Now you cut out that squawking, baby, or I'll sure as shit give you something to yell about," he growled. He took the tray, set it down on the floor, then closed the cell door behind him. Betsy couldn't escape, but she tried to huddle back against the wall, and now both hands were over her cunt and she was staring at him with agonized, tearblurred eyes.
"Yep," he went on, relishing his words and also the cowering naked teenaged victim before him, "I see I gotta give you another lesson, Betsy, how to say thank you to a man that gets you a nice breakfast like this. Now you just go down on your knees, see?"
And when the unfortunate young girl hesitated, he stood up, began to undo his belt buckle and growled, "Do it, or I'll lick you raw with this!"
With a sobbing little cry, Betsy shrank down on her knees at once, clasping her hands and staring up at him with the most poignant look imaginable on her lovely, wistful face. He gloried in his power. He felt like a sultan ruling a harem, because nobody was ever going to know what he was doing to Betsy, and she herself would dare tell with the time he finished with her. And there would be lots of Betsys before this year was up. What he'd really like would be to get some rich snotty bitch from one of the big towns like Chicago or Detroit, vacationing down here and maybe breaking a law and trying to pull her weight over him. Boy, what he wouldn't give to have one of those blueblooded fillies dangling by a rope tied to her wrist from a hook he had put in the ceiling outside, using his belt on her naked ass and tits until she begged him to fuck her, brown her or do anything in the world except not whup ass anymore!
"Now then, Betsy, let's see if you learned good what I taughtcha last night, huh? Go on, yank my zipper down and take my prick out.
You know what a prick is by now, I'll be bound, haw haw haw!" he sniggered.
Betsy's lovely face turned crimson now, and she put a hand to her mouth and then began to sob: "Oh please, Sheriff, don't make me do that filthy thing, oh please don't!"
"You're still being uppity, aren'tcha, you little bitch? I see I gotta give you another lesson. Well, I got an appetite for it, I'll tell you that. See this belt? I'm gonna whup your ass and tits until you give me a blow job, Betsy. And if you don't do a good job then, I'll keep you here an extra week before I decide what I'm gonna do with you anyhow, savvy?"
He dragged the belt loose from the loops in his trousers, lifted it up, and Betsy uttered a scream of terror and at once began to fumble with his zipper. He guffawed salaciously as she pulled out his stiff cock, and put her trembling lips to it, fighting the urge to vomit in her nausea and shame and terror.
To encourage her, nevertheless, the belt flicked her back and neck and shoulders and side and hips lightly, as he gloated and gloried in her distress and loathing. He could feel the trembling lips move over his cock, and then, at his curt commands, move down his turgid shaft to his balls. Finally he ordered her to lick his balls, and when she hesitated, gagging with revulsion, he lifted the belt high and swung it down so that the tip just darted under the base of her ass right at the crease and flicked up into the tenderest part of all.
With a wild scream, poor Betsy Wymer cupped his prick and balls in her hand, bowed her head and tilted it to one side, so that her tongue could get at his hairy balls.
"That's better, now you keep it up. See what you can learn if you put your mind to it, you bitch?" he grunted. "Take it easy now, nice and slow. Aah, that's it, that's real good. Now you kin stop. You git onto your bunk and open your legs up good, I'm going to hose you, Betsy girl."
And when she looked up at him again in abject despair, he brutally swept the belt down the same way, so that the leather bit against the inner edges of her lower asscheeks and its tips flicked around and up against her tender cunthole.
Once again Betsy Wymer shrieked her agony, stumbled to her feet and collapsed on her back on the bunk. She put her knees up in the air at his gesture, spreading them as widely as she could on the narrow bunk. Again at his order, she held out her arms to him, tears streamming down her face. He licked his lips, and he moved towards her. His prick bobbed as he came, and then he sank down upon her. Betsy's sobbing cry of desolation and agony of soul and flesh was silenced as his greedy fat mouth crushed hers beneath his, and his hands roamed under her to squeeze her still well-marked naked asscheeks as he thrust himself to the balls inside her cunthole and began to fuck.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was the start of Candy Winston's second week, and she was wondering how she could get through the summer. Just once, on Sunday, her aunt had taken her into town in the latter's little Rambler, and it was just appalling how little was offered. No nice shops like back in Chicago, just a restaurant, a little movie theater that looked rundown, a farm equipment and animal feed supply store, a general department store with dime-store merchandising, a couple of saloons, the Sheriffs office and jail all in one building, a barber and a drug store and a service station. That was just about all you could see on the main street of Kentley. And judging from the marquee of the movie house, they were showing a different picture only once a week, and it was at least three or four years old.
Jennifer Danton didn't fail to recognize the symptoms of utter annoyance and boredom which her lovely niece exhibited during that ride. She parked the Rambler in front of the department store, and Candy accompanied her. Across the street, stout Ted Hawkins stood on the sidewalk outside of his office, scratching his head and staring with great curiosity at the two women. By God, there was a real nice sweet piece of cunt, that was! He liked the way she had her dark-brown hair set, in a long pageboy with the curls turned under. He'd just love to twist his fingers in that nice soft silky hair and drag that sweet bitch off to a cell for a licking and a shagging! Wonder who she was, anyhow? Maybe one of the new pupils. It was a funny thing, that just about all the girls in the damn school of Jennifer Danton's were lookers. Why, by God, you'd think the woman was starting up a whorehouse with all those sweet bimbos!
That was a thought which was to fester like a wound in Sheriff Ted Hawkins' mind until something would be done about it, something that was going to have a great deal to do with the future of Jennifer Danton and her beautiful niece Candy.
When the two women came out of the store laden with their purchases, Candy noticed the grinning face of the paunchy lawman, because he was still there, hands on hips, rolling a cigar from one corner of his mouth to the other, staring greedily. "Who's that man, Aunt Jennifer?" she wanted to know.
Jennifer Danton glanced across the street and then her face congealed. "That happens to be the sheriff of this county, Candy. He's a very vulgar, coarse man. Try not to do anything to annoy him or get him prying. I'd be just as happy if he'd retire or drop dead, if you want the truth."
Candy Winston, though a prick teaser, knew the facts of life and she could also understand something about the feminine nature. There was something bitter in Aunt Jennifer's remark just then, and she rightly ascribed it-with a burst of feminine intuition-to the fact that very likely the Sheriff had the hots for her aunt and of course her aunt wouldn't have anything to do with him. But she kept that counsel to herself, which was probably just as well. Because her aunt was beginning to look for an excuse to initiate Candy into the lore and rituals of corporal chastisement. The more she saw her niece's charms, the more her eyes glittered with the desire to see that insolently round full bottom unveiled and squirming and reddening under the strokes of a good hard thick strap or the flat back of a wooden hairbrush.
At the same time, she admitted to herself that she was beginning to feel a passionate urge to cuddle Candy in bed with her, for her lesbian desires had of course at once been smitten by the sight of her beautifully ripe-figured niece, the soft creamy skin, the tantalizing heart-shaped face and the knowledge that Candy was still a virgin ... that piece of news she had had from her own sister when the two of them had talked about the prospect of sending Candy here for the summer. But because she knew her sister and despised her, Jennifer Danton believed that Candy Winston must have inherited the nymph-like qualities which her sister had always been plagued with, and that it wouldn't take much to make Candy a perfect little slut. Well, if the little bitch was a virgin after all this time, then it was high time that something was done about it, something that wouldn't corrupt her and turn her over to selfish, unfeeling men. Jennifer Danton was quite confident that she could give Candy Winston all the passionate sex that little bitch could ever desire. And her own experience had taught her that after a girl has been well thrashed and her bottom is burning and she is afraid of her executioner, she is in exactly the mood of humility required for submission to the sexual yearnings of that same executioner.
[[[ IMAGE 07 ]]]
So far as lesbianism in the school was concerned, Jennifer Danton and her two aids Delia Henshaw and Lucille Emory (both of which attractive mature women were themselves addicted to the tender passions of Bilitis) had agreed that only their "favorites" would be permitted the clandestine joys of pussyrubbing and gamahuching. Indeed, discovery of those forbidden intimacies offered such an ideal pretext for sentencing the naughty culprit to a good whipping down in the basement that they had already issued an edict which only hinted at the crime. In a word, it informed all the residents and pupils of the school that all lights were to be out at ten-thirty, and that every girl in the school could expect a monitor to make a bed check at any unexpected time. The implication was simply that a girl had better not be caught loving up another girl in bed when the monitor entered the room for the bed check-or else!
Adele Corley and Patsy Brogan had already been severely punished, Delia Henshaw having dealt with the charming coppery-haired fifteen-year-old Patsy. She had postponed the pretty teenager's punishment for an entire week, and only last night had summoned the trembling youngster to her room. There, clad in just a nightie and her bathrobe and slippers, auburn-haired, buxom Delia had lectured Patsy till the latter had fervently prayed to be able to sink through the floor or turn invisible, nei ther of which miracles occurred. Then she had told Patsy that it was only because of the girl's youth and the fact that it was her very first time at being naughty in this forbidden way that she was being spared the ignominity of being chastised in public before the entire school-a chastisement which, needless to say, occurred on several occasions simply to impress all the other girls with the danger of what might happen to them if they transgressed the rules of this unique institution.
Patsy Brogan was sufficiently cowed and terrified by this remark, and implored Delia Henshaw to punish her in private instead, sobbing that she would be very good and very brave it only Miss Henshaw would not let the other girls know or have her spanked in public. That was precisely what Delia wanted her to say, and the next order was for Patsy to remove her nightie and to turn herself over Delia Henshaw's lap ready for spanking. It was a long and painful, but voluptuous, spanking which the charming girl received. It began by hand, and it was prolonged because almost after every spank, Delia's palm rested caressingly on the quivering, tawny-sheened, saucily oval asscheeks of the whimpering culprit.
After that, poor Patsy was condemned to kneel on a straight-backed chair and then bend well over, after which Delia tied the girl's wrists to the vertical slats at the back of the chair. Stark-naked, her pretty behind already flaming from the handspanking, Patsy begged for mercy, promising she would never do it again. Delia then removed her bathrobe and, in a gauzy white nylon nightie, approached the weeping youngster, circled her left arm around Patsy's satiny and slim waist, and began to apply vigorous, noisy smacks with a wooden ruler, commanding the sobbing girl to count out each spank.
After thirty "officially counted-out spanks" (plus a good many extras because Patsy's sobs and pleads and wails interfered with her keeping accurate count of the spanking), the auburn-haired instructress then sternly demanded if Patsy thought she could be a good girl from now on.
Patsy went down on her knees, clasping her hands in prayer, to the beautiful, sensual dominatress, abjectly pledging that she would never be naughty again. But Delia Henshaw shook her head and pretended to be uncertain as to Patsy's good intentions: "I've really let you off too lightly, you naughty girl," she scolded. "And so, I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you a last little dose. How severe it is, Patsy, will depend entirely upon your humility and submission. Now it's that or a good sound caning over the vaulting horse before the entire school down in the basement."
Faced with this threat, Patsy naturally and piteously implored the mercy of the lesser evil of the two, and Delia Henshaw was only too happy to grant that anguished request. Accordingly, she had poor Patsy stretch out on the bed but this time lying on her back. Then she proceeded to spread-eagle the girl, tying her wrists and ankles with cords, which frightened the pretty youngster into a desperate and distraught query as to what was to be done to her.
Delia Henshaw said nothing, but took a metal letter-opener, and, sitting on the edge of the bed, amused herself for a few minutes by taking the broad handle of the letter-opener against her left thumb pad with the point securely held between right thumb and forefinger, then letting fly and smacking poor Patsy's inner thighs. It wasn't long before Patsy Brogan was wailing and sobbing dolefully and pleading for mercy. Her titties received about a dozen smacks, and then Delia Henshaw, her eyes flaming, huskily murmured, "Now then, you wicked little nymph, I think it's only appropriate to punish the part of you which got you into trouble. Get yourself ready for a lot of good hard stinging flicks, Patsy!"
With this, she directed the letter-opener against Patsy's dainty cunthole, and the girl's eyes widened with horrified incredulity: "Ohh, Miss Henshaw, not there, not on my spot, please don't!"
"No, you've been a very wicked little sinner, Patsy, and I must be cruel to be kind so that you won't ever do that again with girls like Adele," the auburn-haired instructress purred. Then, drawing back the handle of the letter opener, she let it fly with a stinging Thwack right against the tender pink cunthole, and Patsy's naked body arched and jerked and wriggled madly, while Delia Henshaw's eyes flamed with glowing lust. Once again she applied the letter-opener towards the tenderest nook of all, and Patsy broke down and hysterically implored mercy, saying that she would do just anything to stop her punishment.
That was what Delia Henshaw had been waiting for. Pulling off her nightie and standing in all her buxom naked beauty, she mounted on the bed and began to caress the weeping girl's tearstained face, her hands roving that lovely supple nubile body. And soon she was mounted over the spread-eagled teenager, grinding her plump, thickly fleeced pussy against Patsy's dainty cleft, her fingers gripping Patsy's burning, throbbing asscheeks, her mouth sucking the young girl's as she taught the latter the difference between mature lesbian love and the fumbling, stealthy gropings with which adolescents attempt to imitate the sweet sisters of Lesbos....
But Jennifer Danton was facing a problem of which Candy Winston knew nothing, and it was a matter of finances. Over the past year and a half, the enrollment of the school had dropped off, and already Jennifer Danton had received a dozen letters from relatives indicating that they would no longer pay the tuition and board of their nieces or wards, beginning with the fall term. Hence by September, Jennifer Danton faced a cut of at least half of her expected revenue, and in order to maintain the salaries of Delia Henshaw and Lucille Emory as well as the expenses attendant upon running such an institution, she was greatly worried how she was going to manage.
Of her older girls, between the ages of seventeen and nineteen, there were at least four who had been sent there to get them away from love affairs. Also, these four were not virgins. And this evening, well after Candy had gone to bed and dreamed that she was back in Chicago dating handsome boys whom she was driving to distraction with her prick teasing ways, Jennifer Danton, Delia Henshaw and Lucille Emory met in the dominatress' private office to discuss ways and means of averting this financial disaster. "There's one way I know, but it's risky," she told Delia and Lucille.
"What's that, Miss Danton?" Delia respectfully asked.
"Well, we have some of our older students who aren't exactly pure little virgins, as you well know. We've kept an eye on them all through the semester, and they're just a little restless. Like my niece, they'd like nothing better than to be turned loose around a flock of panting young men, because they're bored to tears. Well, they might be interested in helping us earn some money and some for themselves."
"You mean prostitution?" Lucille Emory gasped.
"Of course. But most discreet, mind you. As it happens, I have a source of clientele, the names and addresses and phone numbers of about a dozen extremely trustworthy men and women. Oh yes, Delia and Lucille, women are quite willing to pay for their pleasures just like men, provided they find precisely the right partner. And I am sure that both of you know many of our girls are extremely talented with their own sex."
Both attractive instructresses exchanged a glowing smile, then nodded. "It would be a sort of assignation, you see," the head of the school went on. "I'd approach these people by phone, tell them what they might expect and what the price would be, and then we'd make arrangements."
"But wouldn't strangers coming to Kentley attract attention, Miss Danton?" Lucille Emory anxiously asked.
[[[ IMAGE 08 ]]]
"We have about three rooms here that could very easily and quickly be transformed into pleasure salons," Candy's aunt at once replied. "Our visitors could stay here, and no one would be the wiser. And of course our girls would know enough to keep their mouths shut, because as it happens all of them have very distant relatives who don't really care about them except to keep them out of sight and mind, and they're getting pretty restless. They would only too happy to get some nice spending money in return for a little fun in bed."
"You're thinking of Jane Dolliver, I suppose," Lucille Emory said.
"Yes, and of Peggy Allanby, Coralie Young and Maxine Stourch. Jane and Peggy are both nineteen, and Coralie and Maxine are eighteen each. That's the legal age of consent, of course. So there wouldn't be any contributing to the delinquency of the minor involved. I wouldn't think of letting the younger girls be used for something like this, not even with women. That would really be too risky. Besides, Jane, Peggy, Coralie and Maxine have already had sexual experience, as we all know because we interviewed them when they came to this school. And all of them have also found out what punishment is here for being naughty. You will recall that only last semester Jane and Coralie were whipped together because they were caught in bed in a very compromising situation. Peggy is a little daydreamer and whisperer in class, and she's often been spanked by you, Lucille. And I myself know exactly what a potentially impulsive little bitch Maxine is, because I've had occasion to spank her myself and more than once.
"It could be a solution," Lucille said hopefully.
"Yes it could. Of course we're going to have to approach these girls and take them into our confidence, but woe betide them if they dare blab to any of the other girls."
"What prices would you charge?"
"Nothing less than a hundred dollars an evening. And for those who enjoy spanking of their partners, that would be at least another hundred," Jennifer Danton firmly declared. "I can foresee that with my dozen prospects, we might be able to make as much as a thousand dollars or more a week for at least two or three months. These friends have other friends who are just as trustworthy and just as wealthy. But we'd take care that no more than two or three visitors, as we shall call them, shall be at the school at any one time."
"Well, I'm not so sure it isn't dangerous, but I can certainly use my back pay, Miss Danton," Delia Henshaw giggled. She came over to Candy's aunt and then suddenly put her arms around the sternfaced spinster and kissed her hard on the mouth, murmuring, "Will you come to my room tonight, darling?"
"No, you jealous little minx, but I'll come to yours and you can just get your big bottom ready for a spanking!" Jennifer Danton scolded. "The idea, doing that in front of Lucille when you know how jealous she is." Then, aloud, she announced to the fuming light-brown-haired instructress, "Delia has just earned herself a good sound spanking tonight, Lucille. But when I finish with it, I'll see you in your room at midnight."
The two beauties looked at each other, and then blushed as Jennifer Danton rose, autocratic as ever, and left her private office to supervise the meal that would be prepared for all her pupils. A fat German woman, Mrs. Riedling, was in charge of the kitchen and was a marvel in preparing tasty meals at extremely low cost. She had once been a private tutoress back in Berlin, and she knew how to spank a girl. On special occasions when the offense had been very grave, Jennifer Danton used her as an executioner for public whippings before the entire school....
At ten-thirty, Jennifer Danton knocked peremptorily at Delia Henshaw's door, and the auburn-haired instructress stammered,"-come in, M-Miss Danton!"
The door opened, was closed and then locked. Jennifer Danton wore a black silk dressing gown under which she had only the sheerest of black nylon slips, and her boots. Auburn-haired, ripely curved Delia Henshaw awaited her, very much like a naughtly little girl who was about to be summoned for a spanking-which was after all what she was about to re ceive. The twenty-nine-year-old instructress wore a shortie nightie, of white nylon and extremely transparent, and fluffy blue mules. She had combed out her auburn hair and it shimmered about her shoulders and neck, enhancing her attractive features and making her look even more youthful.
"I-I'm awfully sorry I was so naughty in your office, Mistress," Delia murmured propitiatingly as she got down on her knees, clasped her hands as if in prayer and bowed her head before the imperious dominatress.
"You should be. You know I don't care to show favoritism to either you or to Lucille. Besides, you've had this spanking coming for some little time. Maybe it will teach you not to be quite so lenient with your own girls. The spanking you gave Patsy, by the way, was really very lenient, except for that last naughty little finale of yours-oh yes, I had Patsy in my room the next night and she had to confess everything."
"Oh goodness!" Delia's face turned a flaming scarlet and she closed her eyes and shivered.
"Punishment is one thing, pleasure another. You really shouldn't mix them both, Delia. I'm going to give you a good example. I'm going to punish you very severely now, and then I'm going to Lucille's room for my pleasure. And you, you naughty minx, are going to be condemned to sleeping by yourself tonight. Not only that, I'm going to tie your hands behind your back when you do so that you won't think of relieving yourself, shall we say. What you should have done with Patsy was simply spank her very soundly and thoroughly, and perhaps the next night call her back for an interview to see whether the lesson had given her any new resolutions."
"I-I guess you're right. I-I'm sorry, Mistress."
"Very well. Bring me your hairbrush, then pull your nightie up to your armpits and get right over my lap," Jennifer Danton scolded.
Sniffling audibly, the attractive auburn-haired instructress moved quickly over to the dresser, picked up a black wooden oval-shaped hairbrush from the top, and, her head hanging exactly like a schoolgirl who awaits the moment of retribution, came back towards the straight backed chair in which Jennifer Danton had seated herself.
The dominatress took the hairbrush and watched, her eyes glittering, her lips tight and thin, as Delia blushingly lofted the filmy nightie to her armpits, and then quickly draped herself across Jennifer Danton's lap.
The dominatress' eyes swept the shivering, huddling naked body of the mature beauty, and then her left arm tucked down Delia's waist, the hairbrush rose in the air, hovered a long moment, and then came down with an angry Crackk! to decorate the upper right asscheek with a vivid splotch. Delia caught her breath with a kind of sob, squirmed uneasily, and glanced back anxiously at her executioner.
The spanking went on, relentlessly and slowly. Allowing about twenty-five seconds between spanks, Jennifer Danton brought the brush down first on the right cheek and then on the left till Delia was sobbing and groaning and pleading for mercy exactly like one of the naughty young culprits it was her duty to castigate. Towards the end of the spanking, indeed, she kicked her lovely legs so frantically that Jennifer Danton had to halt several times, adjust her grip of Delia's squirming, perspiring waist, rebuke her victim and admonish her to stay in position unless she wanted extras. Indeed, the last five spanks were given with the bristled side of the brush, and drew shrieks and sobbing promises to be very good from now on from the distracted mature sufferer.
Then the sobbing auburn-haired beauty had to get up, pull down her nightie, kneel down and thank her mistress for the just punishment inflicted. After that, she was obliged to rise, turn her back to Jennifer Danton, who promptly bound her wrists behind her back with tight, thin cords. "Goodnight, Delia. And the next time, it will be a lot worse. Just remember," the dominatress dryly declared. She unlocked the door, went out and closed it, and went di rectly to the room of Lucille Emory who was eagerly waiting for her, clad only in mauve silk pajamas and sitting on the edge of her bed squirming with feverish anticipation.
A few moments later, both women were naked, and Lucille was groaning as, mounted between her straddled thighs, Jennifer Danton cunt rubbed her in the male astride pose, one slim hand cupping and squeezing one of Lucille's bubbies, the other gripping and kneading a velvety bottomcheek.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Another week had passed, and now Candy Winston was more bored than ever. She hadn't seen much of her aunt lately-and for a very good reason. Jennifer Danton had been laying the groundwork for starting a very discreet house of assignation, yet without letting the younger girls know what was to go on. She, Delia and Lucille had summoned Jane, Peggy, Coralie and Maxine to the private chambers of the directress just last Sunday night, to indoctrinate these young beauties and to find out first of all what their reactions would be as to the prospect of making money by peddling pussy to people who could be trusted.
Without exception, just as Jennifer Danton had predicted, all four young beauties giggled and nodded and agreed. Jane, who was actually the oldest by two months over Peggy, asked, "But gosh, Miss Danton, isn't there an awful danger that the other girls will find out? And maybe that awful Sheriff Ted Hawkins? When we do go into town, he's always staring at us girls. He just about undresses us."
"I know that, Jane. You don't have to worry about Sheriff Hawkins. It's me he really wants," Jennifer calmly announced. "But I can assure you that I have not the least intention of allowing such a coarse bully anywhere near me or any of you girls. Now, with a little rearranging of the dormitories, I'll see to it that each of you has a private room with bath. They will be connected on probably the third floor, and in that way nobody else will get a chance to find out what's happening. We'll just rule the third floor off limits. In fact, any girl who goes up there can mark herself down for punishment-I think that will deter even the most curious youngsters."
"How much money do we get?" Peggy wanted to know.
"I should say that a third of the fee would be quite adequate, my dear. After all, you aren't really anything more than amateurs, and I don't have to cut you into it at all if I don't want to. Later on, if it seems very profitable, as I'm sure it will be, we'll talk about a better share," was Jennifer Danton's answer.
It satisfied all the girls, and indeed they welcomed the opportunity to enjoy a little fun in bed, which heretofore they hadn't been allowed to do under penalty of a good sound spanking-because of course girl-loving was strictly forbidden among the pupils of Jennifer Danton's unique school.
Jane Dolliver at nineteen and four months was a stunning beauty, practically a woman in her physique. She was five feet six, with long black hair in a thick pageboy that fell below her shoulder blades, an olive skin, highperched pear-shapted titties, long legs and an undulating behind whose two oval cheeks shifted and tantalizingly surged and flexed with every step. Her face was snippy, and her manner impertinent, which had earned her her corrections in this school.
Peggy Allenby, just two months younger, was five feet seven, slim, with boyish bottomcheeks, long slim legs but surprisingly big round closely spaced titties, with a pink-andwhite skin that was absolutely ravishing in combination with her helmet-cut sandy-blonde hair.
Coralie Young, eighteen and four months in age, was coppery-haired, about five feet five inches in height, with heart shaped face that was freckled and had a dainty snubbed nose, and the body of a young Venus with firm round titties and bottom. Maxine Storch was half an inch taller, with golden hair in a coronet braid around the top of her head that made her look still older. She had soft white skin, unusual for blondes of her type, and oval face with graygreen eyes and a sensual, ripe mouth. Her bubbies were widely spaced and upstandingly rounded, and her bottom was spacious and plump as were her thighs, though not excessively so. There could be no doubt that in this quartet, Jennifer Danton had a "stable" that could earn her a great deal of money.
By this time, poor Betsy Wymer had been subjected to several more fucking and strappings by the brutal Sheriff, who finally decided to let her go and not tell her stepfather where to find her. For this the attractive teenager was pathetically grateful, and she even willingly held open her bottomcheeks that last night and crouched on her bunk with her head bowed down to it so that her "benefactor" could take the maidenhead of her asshole.
He gave her twenty dollars, bought her a cheap new dress and some undies, and sent her on her way. What really concerned him was his frustrated passion for Jennifer Danton, because unless he was very much mistaken, something very fishy was going on at the school.
On this Monday morning, for example, the bus had dropped off at the station across the street from his office two extremely welldressed passengers, each with a single suitcase. One was a man in his fifties, the other a gray-haired matron who looked haughty and dignified. They actually were the first two customers for Jennifer Danton's "stable."
Finally he told himself, "Guess they must be relatives of the gals in Jennifer's place. Still in all, they're the first I've seen in a long while. I just might have me a looksee at that school one of these days."
Thus the gnawing suspicion was implanted into the brutal, sadistic lawofficer's mind, and it was to flourish until at last the harvest would be one which would affect not only luscious Candy Winston most of all but her domineering and aloof and enegmatic aunt....
The two "clients" appeared at the school door at noon, and were received by Jennifer Danton herself, who invited them both to lunch. They would be, she told them, "trustees of the school," and she gave them fictitious names to answer to; the woman would be called Miss Crandon, while the man would be known simply as Mr. Delmar. After lunch, and by the way much better fare than the other students had, she herself escorted her two guests back to her private office and then took out a photograph album. She had begun this practice about five years ago, and had taken photographs of every girl who had enrolled in her school, most of them dressed, but quite a few in deshabille and one or two even naked. There was a naked picture of Jane Dolliver and also one of Maxine Storch, and needless to say it was these two beauties who were first called upon to aid their implacable directress in recouping her failing fortune.
The woman, who was in reality a dress designer from New York and who had corresponded with Jennifer Danton for several years when they had both met originally in New York and discovered mutual interests, chose Maxine Storch, the golden-haired eighteen-year-old, while the man, sales manager of a chain drug operation from Chicago, chose Jane. The two girls were summoned to Jennifer Danton's office after lunch and told that they would have an assignation that very night. They were also told that each of their partners for the evening would expect unusually docile submission and perhaps would care to spank them. When Jane squirmed uneasily and blushed, Jennifer Danton added, "You little fool, that means an extra hundred dollars, a third of which you will get. So don't let me hear any more complaints out of you."
[[[ IMAGE 09 ]]]
Jane and Maxine were given the rest of the afternoon off from recreation so that they might nap and prepare themselves for the evening orgy. They were told to take a bath and put on their prettiest clothing, and meanwhile the two "trustees" were entertained in Jennifer Danton's private chambers, to which a substantial dinner with wine was brought and in which money changed hands.
The woman, who was divorced, was a notorious Lesbian sadist, and she had already told Jennifer Danton what she had desired of Maxine. It would be a harsh debut into "amateur" prostitution for both young women, but their greed for money and their own amoral nature left Jennifer Danton no worries on the score that they would be likely to complain about the treatment they would receive. The man also was sadistic, and Jennifer Danton said, "Jane understands what she has to do and she'll be obedient, don't you worry, Mr. Delmar. All you have to do is remind her that if she doesn't please you, she'll have me to deal with down in the basement and on the sawhorse."
"The sawhorse!" he brightened. "I'll pay you another hundred if you'll let me use some of your equipment. Hell, that's even better than I counted on. A spanking is one thing, but tying a girl onto an apparatus and weatching her squirm when she's getting it is most of the fun for me."
"Very well, I'll except the extra money. It would have to be after midnight, when everyone's asleep and there's no danger of any noise."
"That's fine, I can nap till then. I can't wait to get that black-haired piece right where I want her," the man chuckled with a salacious wink....
At eleven o'clock, however, the gray-haired Lesbian went down the silent, dark corridors from her room to the room where lovely golden-haired Maxine Storch uneasily awaited her "partner of the evening." She had been given a key and she now unlocked the door, entering quickly and locking it behind her. She smiled to see her "subject" seated on the bed, hands clasped, face taut with anxiety. "Good evening, Maxine dear," she purred. "We're going to be very good friends, I know. And you're going to obey me, aren't you, darling?"
"Yes, m'am."
The gray-haired woman strode toward the bed and viciously slapped Maxine's cheek. "You are to call me Mistress, you little whore! Now take off everything except your stockings and garterbelt and go down on your knees before me!"
Sniffling, Maxine hastily obeyed. Her dazzling white skin in contrast with her golden hair made the eyes of the dominatress glitter greedily, and when she observed the naked young beauty kneeling before her with clasped hands in prayer, she licked her lips and muttered, "Now I want you to undress me. Under my dress I've got a leather bodysheath on. You're going to learn how to homage it, my dear."
Carefully, Maxine drew off the woman's blue satin gown, and gasped as she saw a cinched-in black gleaming leather corselet which took the dominatress from the middle of her bubbies to the tops of her thighs with a gusset-piece covering her cunt. The woman was still handsome though angular, her lips thin and cruel, her eyes narrowed and dark. Now, she commanded, "Put your face to the floor and start licking and kissing my boots!" Under the gown, instead of pumps, she had worn knee-length black leather boots, and the sensual aura of that fabric emanated to Maxine's nostrils as she groveled before the dominatress.
"When the golden-haired beauty had performed that task, the next comment was, "You've been a vsry naughty girl at the start, and you haven't shown me enough respect. Don't you think that deserves a spanking?" And when Maxine blushingly nodded, the dominatress pursued, "Then ask me for it!"
"Please, M-Mistress, will you pi-please give me a sp-spanking for being impert-impertinent to you?" Maxine quavered.
"With the greatest pleasure in the world! Now get yourself over my lap and put your hands down and hold the leg of the chair and don't you dare let loose or you'll regret it," the woman hissed.
She had seated herself in a tall hard straight backed chair, and Maxine now hastily drapped herself over the woman's lap, blushing and closing her eyes, reaching for the rung of the chair and gripping it tightly to sustain herself. The woman's arm pitted around the satiny bare waist, her right palm now passed over Maxine's flinching white-skinned asscheeks, and then she began to spank. Very slowly and stingingly, but not with excessive cruelty. Maxine began to thank her lucky stars that she was getting off so easily. But it was only just beginning.
After about forty stinging spanks, the Lesbian dominatress compelled poor squirming and sniffling Maxine to shift herself forward so that her bottom was just on the edge of the woman's lap, forcing the young beauty to balance herself with her palms on the floor. Then, reaching out and with her left arm round the girl's waist, and having picked up a leather-covered pingpong paddle which she had brought along in her suitcase, she proceeded to give Maxine thirty good stinging smacks, each of which she made the sobbing golden-haired victim count out. Before she had undertaken this plan of erotic assignation, Jennifer Danton had hired workmen from a neighboring. town (who would not be likely to dawdle and gossip in Kentley where Sheriff Hawkins might hear about it) to soundproof the four rooms in which her "stable girls" would be quartered. Hence there was no danger that any of the other students in the house would overhear Maxine's sobbing cries and entreaties for mercy.
Maxine next had to kiss the paddle and thank the dominatress for the punishment. Then she was obliged to remove the corselet, and to kneel down and gamahuch the gray-haired woman. To be sure, Maxine had hoped that she would have a man, for she had already lost her cherry at the age of sixteen and had had many flirtations and near-affairs before her uncle and aunt had finally shipped her out of Indiana to Jennifer Danton's school, hoping that the discipline there would cure her of her nymphomania. Therefore for Maxine it was not a particularly pleasant evening-and it was going to get still more unpleasant before the time the client had paid for had run out.
"Go open my suitcase now, you little bitch, and you can call me Mama Eva from now on. In my suitcase, you'll find a black narrow case. Bring it here to me at once!" the woman ordered.
She stood naked in gloves and boots, her body sweating and tangy with the scent of her uncontrollable desires. Maxine shivered at the cruelty of those narrowed eyes, but hastened to obey in the hopes that perhaps she might elicit a more tender manifestation from the "client." When she handed "Mama Eva" the case on her knees, she was shocked to discover that when the woman opened it, an artificial dildo with web straps to be secured around her waist was in the case. Calmly and mockingly, the dominatress fitted it about her loins, and then commanded, "Now get on the bed on all fours and spread your legs as widely as you can, bitch. I'm going to fuck you good. Miss Danton tells me that you like that."
Sobbing now, and very much afraid, Maxine slowly took the pose required. The pink lips of her cunt gaped and yawned, framed by the thick golden curls of her pussyfleece. Her bottom was flaming and swollen, and it stood out against the unusual whiteness of those round firm thighs in a manner that made the Lesbian imperatrix almost overwhelmed by her ungovernably perverse lust.
Strapping the dildo to her loins, the white plastic organ studded, as poor Maxine could now plainly see, with tiny whorls and nubs and little points, the dominatress clambered into bed and, gripping Maxine's luscious firm white titties, crushed the sobbing girl's mouth to silence as she thrust the brutal replica of maleness into Maxine's tender tight young cunthole.
The girl's frantic squirmings and wrigglings excited her, and she began to pinch and squeeze Maxine's bottom and titties, stroking the unfortunate beauty just as if she were a man.
When that was over, instead of giving her victim a moment's rest, the dominatress com manded her to lick and kiss the dildo and then put it back in the case, then come back to bed at once, and stretch out on her back once more.
This being done, she then proceeded to tie Maxine's wrists and ankles to the bedposts, straddling her hugely. Now, taking a feather and a pair of tweezers from another little case inside her suitcase, she lay on her side at the sobbing, sweating naked golden-haired victim's left and began to amuse herself by first tickling the insides of Maxine's thighs and her pussy and belly with the feather and then cruelly pinching those very same places. Finally, her insatiable lust led her to fling herself over the weeping girl and to grind her cunt to Maxine's until she had her furious climax.
But Jane Dolliver experienced no happier an assignation with the portly gray-haired business executive from Chicago. Forced to report to him down in the basement, and ordered to wear just a black nylon petticoat and matching bra and panties, garterbelt and charcoal-brown nylons and highleeled pumps, she appeared, very pale and trembling.
She found him already waiting for her, naked in his sandals, swinging a leather paddle which he had taken from a metal locker the key to which Jennifer Danton had given him along with the one which led to the basement and the punishment equipment.
He made Jane crawl to him on her knees, fondle his prick and kiss it lovingly and promise to be a good obedient slavegirl. Then she was obliged to remove her slip and petticoat, and then slip her panties down to her knees to go over his lap as he sat on the footstool. He too shifted her as the woman had done with Maxine, till she was obliged to palm herself on the floor, her bottom tilted up and her legs even higher, an insecure position which agonized her and forced all her muscles into stress, thereby adding to the torment of the spanking.
He made her count out thirty spanks, and she sobbed and wailed but remembered to count out each. Her bottom flaming and red, she was then made to kneel down again before him and suck him off. Next, taking her by the earlobe, he marched her to the sawhorse and ordered her to get astride it. Tying her wrists and ankles to the legs, he now took a light springy rattan with a crooked-grip handle down from a peg in the wall where the rest of the varied whipping instruments were hung. Then he began to cane her with short little flicks, all over her naked bottom and upper thighs. Pausing, he unhooked the garterbelt and rolled her stockings down to her ankles and began to switch her calves and lower thighs. Jane Dolliver yelled and screamed and begged for mercy, swearing that she would do anything he wanted if he would only stop whipping.
But she might as well have talked to the Sphinx. Gloating over her suffering, he continued to flick her, now moving all around the horse and stinging the outside curves of her titties which jiggled and reddened deliciously. Her shoulders, neck, back and calves came in for their full share of the cane, till she was feverishly wriggling, grinding her chafed young cunt against the sharp triangulated ridge of the sawhorse.
Once again he moved to her, feeding her mouth his prick as he stood there with hands on hips, the cane lying on her back to remind her of the danger of disobedience. Jane Dolliver tearfully but diligently sucked him off. Then he resumed the cane, alternating it with a few occasional handspanks which had Jane in hysterical tears, frantic at the prolongation of her suffering.
Then he told her he was going to open up the cheeks of her bottom and cane her right on her bumhole, and the horrified young beauty implored him to do anything he wanted except that, swearing she would be the best girl he ever had if he would only spare her that. In return, he gave her about twenty more cuts of the cane all over her flaming behind, and then, yawning open the livid cheeks, buggered her dry.
It was true that on this particular night the two girls had earned for Jennifer Danton the handsome sum of five hundred dollars (including the extra hundred for the use of the basement equipment), of which they would get a third. It seemed an extremely lucritive adventure, and Jennifer Danton had already made a number of phone calls and sent several registered special delivery letters to those names in her little black book. Indeed, it looked prosperous for the future. But even Jennifer Danton could not have foreseen what was to happen to her carefully laid plan.
CHAPTER NINE
It was the middle of August, and Candy Winston was beside herself to know exactly what to do to get away from her aunt's isolated supervision. She had thought that by now her mother would call at least once, but Jennifer Danton had simply remarked on the few times Candy had asked that all she had got was a letter containing money for Candy's expenses during her stay. And her father was just as silent, except that at the end of July he had sent a letter with a check for a hundred dollars for Candy to spend on herself as she saw fit. The problem was, there wasn't anything to spend it on in Kentley.
But what puzzled Candy even more was that on several occasions at lunchtime, she had seen a number of well dressed people who certainly didn't belong here in this hick town coming in for lunch and then going off to confer with her aunt. It was all very mysterious. She still had a room to herself, and there just wasn't anything to do. What few books her aunt had-or at least would lend her-were just as dry as dust, just as dry as the town itself. Autobiographies and historical works and poetry and that sort of nonsense. What Candy wanted was a good dinner in a fine restaurant and then a flirtatious date with a young man who would go ape over her and whom she could put properly in his place. Indeed, she had even come to frigging herself in order to fall asleep several nights, for want of any other distraction. Her vigorous and healthy young body at the age of twenty already demanded mating, but she was still a virgin. And there just wasn't any man around.
But what she didn't know was that her aunt had already made plans to trap Candy into a guilty scene so that she could at last realize her long-pentup ambition of giving Candy's delectable bottom its first sound spanking.
To that end, on this particular Thursday evening, she called in Susan Trotter, one of her special pets. Susan Trotter was nineteen, with short-bobbed auburn hair and a tawny skin and a long willowy body. She had small but perfect titties like oranges not yet fully ripe, but she had a voluptuous and opulent bottom and she was exceptionally passionate and masochistic. Her parents had died when she was eleven, and her elderly banker uncle, who was the head of a leading bank in a small Arkansas town, had received Jennifer Danton's brochure and enrolled his lovely niece about three years ago. In that three-year span, Susan had become the loveslave of Candy's aunt. Her very first spanking, just two weeks after her sixteenth birthday, had found her accepting it so humbly and gracefully that Jennifer Danton was enchanted with the lovely auburn-haired teenager. She found reason to call the girl back two weeks later, and give her another spanking, much longer but applied only with the hand (the first had been with the ruler). Under her caressing hand, between spanks, she had felt Susan's bottom squirm and wriggle, had heard the girl sigh and gasp, then turn her flushed face back in a manner that indicated that she was experiencing pleasure as well as discomfort. And that very night, after finishing the spanking, she had consoled sweet Susan in her own bed, teaching her the exquisite games of pussyrubbing and sixtynining.
Susan was in her room now, just before midnight, and Susan was wearing only the thinnest of white cotton pajamas and high-heeled sandals. She looked charmingly boyish in a sense, because her hair was bobbed so short and her bubbies were hardly jutting or distinctive. Yet, once exposed, they were sweet handfuls which any man would have gloried to seize and fondle.
"Susan, I want you to do me a great big favor, darling."
"Of course, dear Auntie Jennifer," Susan Trotter cooed as she knelt down beside the dominatress' armchair. Jennifer Danton was in her slip and bathrobe, and she reached out her hand and tenderly caressed the lovely young woman's head and cheek.
"That's a darling. You know my niece, Candy?"
"Oh yes, Auntie Jennifer."
"Of course I'm her real aunt, but not in the way I am to you, pet. Only I'd like to make her that way, if you know what I mean."
"I-I think so, Auntie Jennifer," Susan blushed and giggled.
"Very well. Now here's what I want you to do. It's going to mean that I'm going to have to spank your lovely big bottom, darling, but I know you won't mind that at all. Besides, you'll be right next to Candy when she gets it, and you can watch everything, I promise. And I'll console you later on in my own special way."
Susan shivered, then felinely rose to her feet and perched herself in Jennifer Danton's lap, an arm around the mature dominatress' neck. They exchanged a long and passionate kiss, and Jennifer's hand crept towards the drawstrings of Susan's pajama pants, loosened it, and then began to delve until her forefinger was delicately tickling the soft lips of Susan Trotter's delicious cunthole.
It wasn't long before the two women were naked in each other's arms, grinding together amorously, their tongues rapiering together....
When Candy Winston returned after lunch on Friday to her room preparatory to taking a nap, she was miffed to find Susan Trotter already ensconced there, as if she had been there for ages. Susan was wearing white cotton shorts and a sleeveless blouse, her long lovely bare legs pedestalled in highheeled sandals.
"Hi, I'm Susan Trotter, your new roommate," she purred.
"Now wait a minute, Aunt Jennifer didn't tell me anything about this!" Candy said, stamping her foot with petulant annoyance. "I'm going to see her right away."
"Won't do you any good, Candy honey," Susan said with irritating familiarity as she stretched out her long lovely legs on the couch and pillowed her head in her arms, squirming her bottom around deliciously. "She told me I was to move in, and I guess she has the right to say who does what in her school."
"I'm just going to see about that. Don't you get too comfortable, Susan, you might have to get out of here in a hurry," was Candy Winston's angry answer.
About ten minutes later she came back to her room, her face red with chagrin and annoyance.
"Damn it all," she swore, "now why did she have to go and do that?"
"I guess maybe we're running short of space, honey. Cheer up, I don't snore in my sleep and I'll be awful nice to you."
"You just keep to yourself. And you're not going to sleep in the same bed with me, I don't go for girls."
"Why, Candy Winston, what you just said!" Susan Trotter giggled, pointing a telltale forefinger until Candy turned red with rage. "Who said anything about that? Now you be nice, or I'll tell your auntie."
What Candy Winston said was not only inaudible but unprintable. She went out of her room and slammed the door and took a long walk around the recreation yard, and kicked the soccer ball until finally fatigue exerted itself. Then reluctantly she went back to the room, flung herself down on her bed and ignored Susan's malicious little remarks till she finally fell asleep.
[[[ IMAGE 10 ]]]
After supper, she finished the novel which Aunt Jennifer had left her, and then, yawning at about nine-thirty, and decided it was time for bed. There wasn't anything to do except sleep or nap in this miserable place. Wait till she got hold of her mother for abandoning her!
She fell asleep, and she thought she was dreaming. She could feel a hand on her bubbie, and she could hear soft whispers about her. She thought maybe it was Ted Balton, the advertising salesman who had called her a prickteaser and who had tried to make time with her. Well, the way she felt right now, she wouldn't even mind if that dirty dog were dating her right now. Anything to get away from this monotony, this terrible boredom.
Her eyelids fluttered opened, and then she uttered a cry of indignation and alarm: "Hey, what are you doing? You get out of my bed, bitch!"
Susan Trotter had shed her pajama pants and was in just her tops. She was lying on her side towards Candy, and one hand was buried under Candy's thin nightie, a finger tickling the lips of Candy's virgin cunt. The other was busy fondling one of Candy's titties, and Susan's lips were moving here and there along the nightiesheathed soft belly.
"Oh be nice, darling, I've got the hots for you," Susan Trotter murmured huskily. "We haven't got any fellows here, so we have to make do with what we've got. Go on, let me love you, honey, I'll make you feel real nice," she promised.
"If you don't get out of my bed this minute, I'm going to yell and bring the house down," Candy Winston exclaimed angrily.
Just then the door opened, and Lucille Emory in her bathrobe and nightgown and slippers armed with a flashlight, entered. "What's going on here, what's all this noise?" she demanded. Then, as her flashlight fell on the two girls, she gasped: "Well, I never! You come along with me, both of you, we're going to see Miss Danton!"
Because wily Susan Trotter flung aside the sheets, and she was visible now naked from her neck to the waist, while Candy's nightgown had been rucked up just enough to show the young woman's thick, dark-brown cuntfleece against which one of Susan's fingers was still tracing delicate and erotic caresses.
"Now you look here, whoever you are-"
"My name is Lucille Emory and I'm one of the instructresses. And I'm on duty tonight as the monitor, just to catch such nastiness as this," the slim light-brown-haired mature instructress angrily retorted: "Both of you, come along this minute! It'll only be the worse for you if you don't, you too, Candy! Maybe you're not a student here, but you're old enough to know better. I think your aunt will want to talk to you about this.
"Damn it all," Candy exploded, "It was this bitch here, she got into bed with me and started fooling around-I told her I wouldn't stand for it-"
"You can tell all that to your aunt. Are you coming?" Lucille Emory pitilessly interrupted, her eyes fixing angrily on Candy's scarlet face.
Candy smoothed down her nightgown, and was about to get her robe when Lucille Emory said, "That won't be necessary, you just come right the way you are."
Candy gave Susan a glare and whispered under her breath, "You wait till I get there, I'm going to settle your hash, you cheap bitch!"
"You're welcome to try, honey," was Susan Trotter's taunting.
"I can't believe it, Candy Winston!" Jennifer Danton gasped, turning to her aghast niece. She wore her bathrobe over her one-piece bodysheath, and she had on black green leather highheeled pumps. There was a singular thing which Candy Winston had already noticed, distracted and outraged though she was: her aunt had put on lipstick and rouge and mascara and eyeshadow, and she really looked exotic and slinky. That was a funny thing so late at night. But to this she gave only momentary notice, because Lucille Emory had begun to tell her aunt all about what she had discovered. Then, to Candy's utter consternation, that sneaky and lying red -haired bitch of a Susan Trotter had burst into tears, got down on her knees and stammered, "I'm so awfully sorry, Miss Danton, I couldn't help it, but you know how it is-we-it was a hot night-and we were in bed together-and we just-just fooled around-I know I've been naughty and I ought to be punished-oh please don't expel me!"
"Why, that's a dirty lie and you know it, Susan Trotter!" Candy Winston's voice was shrill and again she stamped her foot.
"That's enough of that, young lady!" her aunt shot her a furious glance. "I have the testimony of Miss Emory, a teacher with me for ten years and in whom I have the utmost confidence. Besides, I have punished this naughty girl before for just such similar little games at night, and she knows better than to tell me a lie, don't you, Susan?"
"Oh yes-on please don't expel me, punish me any way you want, but please let me stay, give me another chance-I shouldn't have done it, I know, but she's so cute and I just couldn't help it-"
"Ohhhh! This is crazy-I won't stand for this-I'm going back to Chicago-" Candy spluttered.
"You will do no such thing. If you'd like to know something in utter confidence, young lady, I called your mother long distance just about an hour ago. I was quite aware that you didn't like it here at all. And she said that she didn't really give a damn, and that it would be good for you to get a little discipline for once in your life. I didn't have a chance to talk to your father, of course, but I'm sure he would concur. And now this wickedness-well, Candy Winston, the time has at last come for someone to take you in hand and correct your impossible behavior, your arrogance, your utter and misplaced sence of superiority to everybody else, and now of course your absolute immorality! Lucille, will you please take Candy down to the basement. And you, Susan, come along with me."
"I won't! You've got no right to do anything to me-I'm leaving-"
"Oh no you're not-Lucille, give me those handcuffs-that's it-now help me with this wicked girl-Ah, there we are!
Quick as a cat, Jennifer Danton had seized the pair of nickel-plated handcuffs which Lucille Emory had kept in the pocket of her bathrobe, and before Candy Winston could suspect what was going to happen to her, Lucille had seized both her wrists and dragged them behind her back, then twisted them till Candy had to bend forward to ease the painful traction. Instantly her aunt snapped on the cuffs, and Candy Winston found herself with her hands bound behind her back tied only in a very thin nightie, barefooted.
"Thank you, Lucille. Now then, let's take these naughty girls downstairs for a well deserved punishment," Jennifer Danton decreed.
Candy tried to struggle, but Lucille Emory was slim and wiry and also expert in judo and jiu-jitsu holds. She yelled and squealed as her elbows and shoulders felt dislocated when, trying to run away, Lucille seized her and twisted her limbs expertly. Then, one hand at the scuff of her neck, the other gripping her shackled wrists, she was led off ignominiously down the stairs. To add insult to injury, at times Lucille Emory would bring up her knee sharply right into Candy's shapely ass.
Fuming, on the verge of tears, and now just a little frightened, she found herself in this dark basement. And when the light switch was turned on, she uttered a cry of disbelief when she saw all the apparatuses and the panoply of whipping instruments in readiness!
"Lucille, I should appreciate your preparing Candy. Incidentally, unless I'm very much mistaken, it will be the very first time her naked bottom has been subjected to chastisementisn't that right, Candy dear?" Jennifer Danton sarcastically remarked.
"Ohhh! You haven't got any right-wait till I tell my father and mother-you're just my aunt and I'm twenty years old and nobody's going to spank me!" Candy furiously exclaimed. Again she tried to break away from Lucille Emory, who simply reached out and plunged her left hand into Candy's dark-brown hair and twisted and yanked it till with a shriek Candy was brought up short.
"That's the way to handle naughty girls," Jennifer Danton smugly declared. "I think, in view of her rebellion and her use of profanity and lack of remorse over the naughty things that she and Susan have done, she deserves a really exemplary whipping."
"I quite agree, Miss Danton," the slim brunette instructress agreed.
"Very well, suppose you put Candy on the sawhorse. Besides, if she finds it uncomfortable in a certain spot between her legs, she is only to remember that if she hadn't been naughty there, this wouldn't have taken place," the dominatress joked.
Lucille Emory seized Candy's elbows, and forced the rebellious beauty towards the apparatus, then piteously and with her superior strength and knowledge of judo, made the young woman straddle the horse. She prepared her by reaching down with one hand and yanking up the nightie to Candy's hips, so that there would be no impediment to the young woman's bare legs straddling the sharp-ridged apparatus. Once she had Candy forced down, she quickly reached under the sawhorse and took up a rope which was attached to a ring set in the underside at the middle, bound it quickly round the culprit's waist, and made it fast. This was used with particularly recalcitrant victims.
Then it was a simple matter for her to unlock the handcuffs, after first tying each of Candy's ankles with cords to the lower legs, and in turn binding the furiously indignant young beauty's wrists and fixing them in turn to the front legs at the base. And now, her nightie rolled up above her shapely ass, Candy Winston found herself for the first time in her twenty years of pampered life with her naked creamy bottom distended, her pussy pressing cruelly and painfully upon the sharp wooden ridge of the sawhorse, absolutely helpless to escape and painfully ready for her very first bare-bottom spanking!
Meanwhile, Jennifer Danton, after whispering something which made Susan Trotter blush, giggle, then nod hastily, was taking charge of her favorite. She had pulled off Susan's pajama tops, so that the young woman was stark naked. The sweet small orange-like bubbies rose and fell excitedly now, as Jennifer Danton's eyes fixed on the extraordinarily thick dark-auburn fleece of Susan's pussycurls which completely hid the dainty and sensitive pink lips of that amorous slit whose passionate propensities she herself had so often tested.
"I'm going to have to be very harsh with you, Susan, even if you are younger," she scolded. "You've been in this school long enough to know that something like that is absolutely unheard of and forbidden. You can prepare yourself for a really good sound thrashing, young lady!"
"Oh yes, I'll do anything, if you'll only just not kick me out of the school, dear Miss Danton!" Susan played her role to perfection. And inwardly, she was melting away in her cunny at the thought of being spanked by her adored dominatress-lover.
Jennifer Danton took Susan by the earlobe and, smacking her magnificently plump, juddingly rounded tawnysheened ass lightly with her right palm, marched the naked beauty over to the spanking stool, a high stool whose top was padded with leather and at whose front and back legs were attached buckling straps. In a moment, Susan found herself bent well over, her wrists drawn down in front and tightly fettered, her ankles similarly treated. Thus her opulent round-cheeked ass, with its gradually deepening and shadowy groove, was presented tautly and in the most ideal angle for an ideal spanking.
Jennifer Danton now cast off her bathrobe, revealing herself in the cuirass and her highheeled pumps. Candy, her face screwed up with pain and her eyes bright with tears, turned back to stare and uttered a cry of disbelief: "Ohhh, my God-what's going to happen?"
[[[ IMAGE 11 ]]]
She had never before seen her aunt that way, and it was a revelation. It was not, however, the kind of revelation that Candy Winston was going to be happy to come upon ... and it so happened that this very night, Coralie Young was in her room with a sturdy forty-year-old widower from Kansas City, Missouri who had paid Jennifer Danton three hundred dollars for the pleasure of spanking Coralie and then making her use all three orifices to service him, her mouth, her tight warm cunt, and her even tighter and virgin bumhole. Peggy Allenby, at this very moment also, was squirming and squealing as the pink-and-white skin of her juicy bottom was being reddened very noisily with a slipper sole wielded by a plump bejeweled and handsomely dressed thirty-eight-year-old matron whose husband was in Europe and who herself had developed secret Lesbian tendencies which were inclined toward sadism. Indeed, she was going to ask Jennifer Danton if it was possible to engage Peggy Allenby as a maid in their home, because she knew that her husband would just love a menage a trois.
"Start her off with a good sound spanking with your hand, Lucille, that will shame her," Jennifer Danton called as she proceeded to make sure that lovely Susan's bonds were tight and that the girl was ready for her own share of chastisement.
"No, don't you dare, I forbid you to-oww! Goddamn you anyhow, stop it, stop it, you've got no right to do this-wait till I tell my folks how you're torturing me-owwwwohhh!!" Candy yelled as Lucille Emory's right palm collided sharply three times with the right upper summit of her thrust-out creamy ass.
Her body jerked involuntarily each time, and of course that made the sharp edge of the sawhorse rub against her tender virgin pussy. She was soon aware of what an agonizing ordeal she was going to have to suffer, for the ridge of the sawhorse also took her right at the valley of her titties, pressing hard against her breastbone. Her wrists and ankles were drawn so tightly down to the sides that the least movement made her fully conscious of the hellish ordeal of the triangular wooden ridge.
Lucille Emory smiled. Candy's creamy warm white skin was a temptation to any flagellant. Warming to her task, she began to spank with the full strength of her palm, stepping back and then moving forward quickly as she swung her hand to collide with sonorous impact against Candy Winston's naked, helpless ass. And now soon wails of pain and sobbing entries began to replace the curses and the threats as Candy struggled on the horse, only agonizing her pussy and the valley of her bosom the more: "Oww ouuu!! Oh stop, for God's sake, you're killing me-I can't stand it-oh please have mercy-oh Aunt Jennifer, please, please, make her stop, let's talk this over-ahrrr-oh she's killing me-oh help me, I didn't do it-I swear I didn't-ahrrrowww!! Oh please, please, you're killing me! It's cutting me between my legs, oh let me off-owwaiiiiiii!!"
But not until at least fifty hard spanks had been given her now flaming bare behind which wriggled and twisted and contracted and jerked uncontrollably, did Lucille Emory stop Candy's spanking, out of breath, her eyes glittering, her magnificent titties rising and falling with passionate excitement.
Meanwhile, Susan Trotter was squealing and sobbing, but her eyes were shining with happy tears even as Jennifer Danton's right hand employed an ovalshaped leather paddle against her plump round bare asscheeks. The burning warmth and the sting of each repeated spank sent waves of ecstasy throbbing through her masochistic nature, until she felt her pussy lips moistening and twitching. She fully "expiated" her "sin" by calling out: "Owwohh, boohoo, I'm sorry I did it-I'll never do it again, Miss Danton, oh please forgive me-ahrrr-oh it hurts so, but I deserve it-I shouldn't have done that to Candy, I know I was a bad naughty girl, I deserve it-ahrrrowwwouuu!!!"
After forty such spanks, which left Susan's bottom in an even more reddened state than poor Candy's, Jennifer Danton moved over toward the sawhorse where her niece lay sobbing and trying hard not to move, for by now the re peated friction of that hellish ridge had chafed Candy's maiden twat unbearably.
"Well now, young lady, I trust you're beginning to feel sorry for your naughtiness. And this is only half your spanking. I'm going to give you the rest of it right now. Lucille, you may take Susan back to my room. Put the handcuffs on her and blindfold her, because I'll give her the rest of her punishment when I get through with Candy here."
"Very good, Miss Danton."
And as sobbing but rapturous naked Susan Trotter was led off by Lucille Emory, Jennifer Danton approached the sawhorse, her eyes greedily devouring her niece's burning, squirming bare behind.
"And now for the rest of your punishment," she said curtly. Taking down a crooked-handle white rattan cane from the panoply on the wall, she returned to the sawhorse and laid the whippy wand straight across the ripest curves of Candy's trembling, flaming ass. "Oh nooooooo!! Oh Aunt Jennifer, don't, I'm begging you-owwwawwrrrouuu!!! Oh you're killing me, I can't stand it, you'll kill me, you kill me!" Candy suddenly shrieked as the cane leaped forward to dance against her burning bottom. Her naked body shook and jerked, and once again the ridge rubbed her swollen, chafed cuntlips and the tender fissure which led to paradise. Her head lifted, her eyes mad with suffer ing. Once again the cane patted the condemned posterior, then drew back and leaped forward with a stinging Spattt! It took Candy at the base of her ass, and it made her lunge forward with a wild and prolonged yell of utter agony.
A dozen such cuts left the naked dark-brown-haired young woman hysterical and conquered, her body shuddering violently on the sawhorse. And then the supreme humiliation as her aunt approached the head of the horse, held the cane to Candy's trembling lips and commanded her to kiss it and then to thank her for the deserved punishment. And when Candy hesitated, two more stinging flicks with the cane at the tops of her hips soon drove her to compliance.
Her aunt was burning with lust, but she decided not to take Candy this night. She would satisfy herself with Susan, her willing lovebitch. But now that Candy had been broken, in the future her niece might expect a similar consolation. Returning to the bedroom, she found Susan lying naked and blindfolded, on her face, her wrists handcuffed behind her back. Still armed with the cane, she applied a few playful flicks over Susan's thighs and calves, ordering the young beauty to roll over onto her back. Then, removing the cuirass, she flung herself on the trembling naked auburn-haired conspiratress, and her hands feasted on Susan's titties as her mouth crushed hers, and her cunt began to rub to Susan's in feverish abandon. "You lovely bitch, you did just beuatifully-I'm so proud of you, and the next time, I may even let you make love to Candy after I've given her a good spanking. Now love me, you little whore, love me!" she moaned....
But these nights of perversity and passion were drawing to a close for Jennifer Danton. Sheriff Ted Hawkins had seen the bus stop at the station across the street this evening, gone out of his office and welcomed a newcomer to Kentley. He was a man of fifty, fat, potbellied, expensively dressed and smoking a dollar cigar. All he carried was a briefcase, in which there were several straps, cords, and a rubber dogwhip, for he was an inveterate sadist and could not get a hard-on until he had first spanked or whipped a naked young girl or a woman. He was to visit Jennifer Danton's house, and tomorrow night, have an assignation with lovely Jane Dolliver, having picked her from the description of the four beauties as well as from the pictures which Jennifer Danton had mailed to him in strictest confidence in a registered envelope.
"Mighty nice evening, stranger," Sheriff Hawkins drawled. "Where might you be bound for?"
"I'm here to visit Miss Danton at her school, Sheriff," the man said, flushing under the piggish, gleaming eyes of the law officer.
"I see. Where do you come from?"
"Chicago."
"Travelin' mighty light all that way, aren't you, stranger? What's your name? Let's see some identification!" Sheriff demanded, his voice truculent.
The man fumbled with his wallet, showed credit cards, and Sheriff Hawkins saw that his card purported him to be a stockbroker.
"Let's see what's inside that briefcase, just for fun."
"Now wait a minute, Sheriff, you have got no right to do that! You've got to get a search warrant-how dare you suspect a perfectly innocent citizen who just comes here on business?" the man spluttered.
"We'll worry about the search warrant later, Mr. Edwards." The fat lawman suddenly wrested away the briefcase, unlocked it, and then he laughed lecherously: "Well now, this is real interesting! A whip, and straps and ropes and stuff like that-well now, I think you and me are gonna have a little talk, Mr. Edwards. I don't even know that's your real name. You just come along to my jail, I'm gonna lock you up for the night. Suspicion of vagrancy-now don't try no tricks, I got me this Colt in my holster, and I'm a right good shot."
Half an hour later, the man, his face ashen, was talking and pleading with Sheriff Ted Hawkins to let him go, even offering him money. And Sheriff Hawkins was quite willing. Because now at last he had the goods on that prickteasing bitch Jennifer Danton. So she was running a whorehouse, right under his nose, was she? Well, by God, she was going to rue the day she was born!
CHAPTER TEN
Sheriff Ted Hawkins could hardly keep from bursting with the news he had learned from the frightened "tourist" who had told him things he had wanted to know and a good deal more about Jennifer Danton and her school. There wasn't any rush, she wasn't likely to run away. Besides, what he had in mind involved a little planning. He was going to call a meeting of the "Night Riders," a kind of vigilante committee responsible for making sure that Kentley was a clean town and that loose women and sluts and whores weren't allowed to sully its fair name.
He decided to pay a little visit to Pete Helmerton, a good friend of his who had put him wise in the past to quite a few good deals as well as tipping him off at least four times the past several years about strange females who had traipsed into town and didn't seem to have any visible means of support or any friends or relatives in Kentley. To pay Pete back, he had even allowed the heavily set, gray-haired saloonkeeper to share the last girl with him. What a night they had had! He could still remember how she had bitten and scratched and kicked, and how they had tied her wrists high on the bars of the cell, ripped off her clothes and, while he was thrashing her ass with his spanker, old Pete was slipping in between her and the bars, crouching down and grabbing hold of her tits and poking it into her tight twat. He had got so riled up that he'd thrown away the spanker, grabbed onto the cheeks of her bottom and stuck himself in her brownie so that they were both giving it to her at the same time. After that, she had really given up the struggle and they had kept her busy practically all night long. She'd been about nineteen, as he remembered, tall with a sort of snotty and sullen look on her face, a mite peaked in the legs and face, maybe, but big bubs and a juicy butt that could really take punishment.
Well, there would be plenty of pussy for old Pete to enjoy without having to share any of the bimbos, and there would be plenty for him too. He didn't want the whole group in on the deal, just about four or five fellows who could be trusted to keep their mouths shut and who knew just how to dish it out to whores.
He had lit a fresh cigar and gone into the saloon, and Pete was in the men's room, he'd had had a beer and waited. When Pete came out, he called to him, "Hey old buddy, sit down, I've got something I want to tell you." Pete had chuckled and nodded, drawn himself a beer from the tap, and sat down heavily, opening his collar and scratching his hairy chest. "What's on your mind, Ted?"
"Pussy, old buddy."
"Ain't it always? Haw, haw, haw-but I'm listening, jist in case there's some of that sweet stuff coming my way-is there?"
"Plenty. Now you listen good while I tip you off on a real interestin' sitcheeashun," Ted Hawkins drawled, then took a swig from his stein.
"Seems to me you're acting mighty mysterious right now, Ted. What's this about pussy?"
"Suppose I was to tell you, Pete, we got ourselves a whorehouse right here in Kentley."
The gray-haired saloonkeeper gasped his disbelief: "Go on, you're pulling my leg!"
"Naw, I sure am not, old buddy. Look, I got me a guy locked up in my jail, and I just sweated out of him a real funny yarn. Seems like he comes here to visit Miss Jennifer."
"Ain't nothing wrong with that."
"Naw, not with that. But what he was coming to do was to screw some of the cute older gals she's got there, that's what, Pete old buddy. Not only that, he's already dished out a wad of dough jist to have some nice sweet pussy all to himself. Too damn bad he ain't gonna git a chance to get it."
"Say now! What you're telling me is that Miss Jennifer runs a house-that it?"
"Yup." Sheriff Ted Hawkins finished the rest of his beer, belched, patted his belly, and grinned. "Seems like to me this is a job for the Night Riders."
"Well now," Pete Helmerton glanced warily around, "You might jist be right about that, Ted."
"Tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna wait me another day, see? Then I'm gonna let this pussy-hungry sap go on over to Miss Jennifer's. In the evening, mind you. He's going there to git the pussy he paid for, you follow me?"
"Every step of the way," the saloonkeeper grinned, showing snaggly discolored and decaying teeth.
[[[ IMAGE 12 ]]]
"Right. Now we're gonna wait till round about near midnight, see? By then I figger those sweet li'l gals who are putting out are gonna be real busy. We're gonna catch them right in the act with their pants off, you might say. When I get the proof, I'm gonna have me Miss Jennifer-you know Goddamn well I've been after that stuckup twat a long time now."
"You sure have, Sheriff."
"I figger we ought to have you and maybe Lem Sayers and Jed Murtree and maybe Abner Borchard along. That'll make five of us. I think we oughta be able to handle those fillies real good. Maybe we could take along Grover Johnson and Cyrus Deerfield, just to be on the safe side."
"That would make it better. If we wear the white robes, it'll look like a big crowd with seven of us," the saloonkeeper suggested, licking his lips and leaning forward with undisguised lust in his beady eyes.
"Yup, guess you're right, Pete. So you get word to the boys. Me, I gotta go back and coddle my prisoner 'n git set in how he's gonna act and what he's gonna say tomorrow night. S'pose you lemme hear from you round about tomorrow noon."
"Right, Sheriff."
Sheriff Ted Hawkins grunted, nodded, took a last puff of his cigar, got up and left the saloon. He was grinning, and he was thinking. And what he was seeing in his mind's eye would have filled Jennifer Danton with horror and revulsion and fear....
That same night, at Jennifer Danton's order, Candy and Susan were taken from their rooms and led down the stairs to the basement in spite of Candy's frantic protests. She was tied once again on the sawhorse. Jennifer blindfolded her niece, as Susan willingly undressed herself down to complete nudity. Delia and Lucille then led Susan to the triangle, raised her arms above her head and locked both wrists into the single metal cuff at the peak of the device. Then they corded her ankles to the base of the legs of the triangle, spreadeagling her. Then, at a sign from the dominatress, they left the cellar....
But an unexpected visitor to Kentley was getting off the bus this same night, a twenty-year-old gangling towheaded youth with thick sideburns and an even thicker Southern twang. He had a dusty satchel, and he looked around for some conveyance once the bus had disappeared and left him alone on the main street at ten o'clock on this muggy night, with the distant rumbling of thunder heralding a storm. Seeing no cab or car or anyone there to welcome him, he shrugged philosophically and began to trudge westward towards the house of the Sheriff Ted Hawkins. Half an hour iater, he was ringing the bell and waiting impatiently. He was in luck, for the door was opened by the lawman himself, in dirty nightshirt, a scowl on his fat face which at once vanished when he saw his visitor: "Fer cryeye, come on in, Phil! Why the hell didn't you write me or wire or something you was comin'?"
"Just got the idea to come visit my favorite uncle, that's all," the youth grinned as he entered the comfortable furnished living room, seating himself with a sigh of content on the heavy couch.
"How's my brother doing back there in Fayette, and your mom, how's she?"
"Great. I come up here hopin' you might have a job for me, Uncle Ted."
"Now that's a plumb loco idea, boy. Want some beer?"
"Sure."
"I need one myself. Gonna be a hot night tomorrow."
"It's hot enough right now."
"Yeah, but you don't know the half of it tomorrow," the lawman winked obscenely. A few moments later he was back with two cans of beer, handing one to his nephew. "Here's mud in your eye, boy. Now what's this business about a job?"
"Well, y'see, Uncle Ted, Dad 'n Mom, they're gonna move to Little Rock."
"The hell you say!"
"Yeah, sure 'nuff. Anyway, we sort of had a fracas, I didn't want to go on to school none, I wanna come down here and do you some good, Uncle Ted."
"Lessee now, boy." Ted Hawkins scratched his head reflectively and scowled again. "You could maybe be my deputy. Yah, that's a helluva idea, that is! Fact is, I can putcha to work tomorra night in style."
"What's all this tomorrow night stuff, Uncle Ted?" Sheriff Ted Hawkins grinned, sat down beside his nephew, and began to talk. The youth's faded blue eyes glistened with lubricity and he licked his lips, nodded.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Down in the basement, Jennifer Danton was alone with her niece Candy and her favorite bed-bitch Susan Trotter. She smiled greedily down at the squirming naked body of her blindfolded niece. Her eyes feasted on the creamy glory of Candy's lusciously rounded ripe firm ass, with the gradually broadening shadowy furrow exaggeratedly widened by the imposition of the ridge which pressed so uncomfortably against her virgin cunthole.
"I shall begin with you, Candy, because you are the older one. It's shocking to discover that one's own niece can be guilty of such immorality! Get yourself ready for another good sound thrashing, young lady! That first spanking was just a start," she declared.
With this, she took down an oval-shaped thin but very flexible leather-covered paddle with a short narrow handle. Gripping it firmly in her gloved right hand, she returned to the sawhorse and, posing her left palm on the small of Candy's naked back, pressed the implement against her niece's lasciviously jutting ass.
"Noooo-what are you going to do to me-Aunt Jennifer, no, that's not fair, I didn't do anything, I tell you she's lying-I tell youowwouuu! Stop it, it hurts, stop it, I'll tell Mother!" Candy's frantic pleas were suddenly broken off in favor of a wild yell of pain and horrified surprise when the paddle smacked wickedly against the ripest curve of her right bottomglobe. Convulsively, her body arched and squirmed, thus chafing her tender pussy and adding a new dimension of suffering to this her second experience of corporal punishment.
Satisfied with the vivid bright pink splotch which the paddle had left in its wake, the dominatress applied a second swat to the other buttock, drawing an even more piercing and prolonged cry of pain and a still more violent squirming from the victim.
[[[ IMAGE 13 ]]]
"That," she announced, "is just a taste of what I'm going to give you. But don't think that Susan will get off scot free for a minute. I intend to deal with her right now, and you can just wait for your own punishment."
With this, she walked over to the triangle, smiling at the squirming, blushing, naked auburn-haired captive. 'lovingly she put out her left hand and cupped one of Susan's titties, fondling it, then stepped closer and kissed Susan passionately on the mouth, her tongue slithering in between Susan's parted lips. The naked "culprit" gave a happy little sigh and arched herself forward, yearning to be at oneness with her beloved Lesbian dominatress. Now the dominatress' left gloved forefinger slid down Susan's belly to find her gaping cunt, and at once began to frig her clitoris. Little whimpering moans escaped the spread-eagled young beauty, and the muscles of her thighs flexed and shuddered convulsively, and, tilting back her head and closing her eyes, she gave herself up to this sweet torment.
But when she saw Susan's body wriggle and squirm and twist, saw the girl's face go flushed and the lips and nostrils begin to twitch, the sadistic imperatrix at once desisted. Moving behind Susan's jerking, palpitating body, she now gripped Susan's neck with her left hand and began to spank the jouncy tawnysheened bottom. Susan's sighs and gasps of sensual plea sure were soon changed into sobbing yelps and groans, babbled entreaties for mercy, as the sharp, crisp Smack-Crack-Thwack-Whack resounded through the cellar. Under the impetus of the paddle, she lunged and twisted in the most lubricious way, her bubbies jiggling, and her ass flaming from the stinging spanks meeted out to it.
After about thirty of them, which left her in tears and wriggling frantically on the triangle, Jennifer Danton went back to her horrified, blindfolded, naked niece. At once she resumed the paddling with a ferocious smack across the tops of Candy's hips which drew a wild and prolonged shriek from the naked captive who tried desperately to tug free of her bonds but in vain. Then, briskly and without pause, she began to spank first one asscheek and then the other, using sometimes the paddle's ovalshaped end in quick horizontal blows, and again applying it vertically over the curve of one shuddering, reddening globe.
By the time she had administered forty of such spanks, Candy had broken down and was no longer a twenty-year-old prickteasing, arrogant beauty whose dream was to have men grovel at her feet. Instead, hysterically, wrenching in her bonds, trying to keep her chafed pussy from rubbing against the infernal sawhorse, she begged for mercy like a wailing little child undergoing its first spanking which indeed it was her second.
"There, that's a start. Now I'm going to really humiliate you, you wicked, nasty thing!" Jennifer Danton scolded. She went to the end of the cellar, opened the door leading to a bathroom, took from the medicine cabinet a little box of light-brownish-colored suppositories, and then from the back of the bathroom door, removed from its hook an enema bag and tube. In it she ran a bowlful of warm water, into which she now poured from a liquid soap container. Stirring the mixture till the soap was thoroughly mixed in, she then filled the enema bag, and, holding the little box of suppositories in her other hand, returned to the sawhorse. Candy, who was sobbing and groaning, suddenly stiffened as she felt the nozzle of the applicator, shiny, black and plastic, slip between the puckering lips of her dainty virgin bumhole: "Ohhnooo!!! What are you going to me-oh no, Aunt Jennifer, please, I can't stand anymore, oh please, it's all a mistake, she did it, she's the one-owwouuouueeeyeowww!!!!!"
For her aunt had just discharged the full contents of the enema bag, and then, withdrawing the tube, swiftly applied a thick-light-brownish cylinder ... a ginger suppository to "fig" the culprit.
It was a method about which she had read in an English novel dealing with corporal punishment at a private girls' school. It utterly pre vented the captive from expelling the contents of her tortured bowels, and it prolonged the agony into an unspeakable ordeal of shame and suffering.
While Candy groaned and wept and wriggled, her bottom muscles tensing and spasming, Jennifer Danton now took a thin leather strap cut at the end into two "fingers," and, returning to the left side of the horse, began to spank Candy's livid ass with stinging stripes, visiting every cranny of the jerking and squirming bottom while her niece shrieked desperately for mercy, hysterically pleading that she would do anything in the world, if Aunt Jennifer would only stop.
The gurgling of her bowels told of the hideous ordeal which had been added to the thrashing. And the burning pangs of the suppository quite prevented her from obtaining the needed evacuation.
Leaving her niece to writhe and plead and sob heartrendingly, Jennifer Danton moved back to the triangle. Swiftly unfastening the cuirass, she let it fall and was naked in gloves and boots. Then, her gloved fingers squeezing and kneading Susan Trotter's inflamed assglobes, she began to grind her cunt to that of her favorite, her mouth suckingly demanding homage which Susan Trotter rhapsodically accorded as she moaned and whimpered in her Lesbian acquiescence....
CHAPTER TWELVE
Candy Winston, left alone in the basement of the remodeled house, suffered the tortures of the damned in hell. Her bottom swollen and burning ferociously, her bowels gripped by the purgative and the ginger "fig" preventing the relief which all her sphincter muscles sought, she was nearly fainting. She had heard Susan's punishment, true enough, but the sound which followed that punishment were not readily recognizable, at least not in her state of anguish and pain and furious indignation at what had been done to her.
But Jennifer Danton had unlocked the metal cuff and removed the ankle fetters, then led naked auburn-haired Susan back to her room where, in her own bed, she had locked her body ardently to that of the young woman who had aided her in bringing about the downfall and degradation of her own beautiful haughty niece.
It was at least two hours before she decided to free Candy, and after kissing Susan tenderly and whispering, "Now you go back to your own room, darling, and be a good girl till I see you again," she put her bathrobe back on and hurried back to the basement.
When at last Candy's bonds were removed, she had to be helped down off the sawhorse, her pussy cruelly chafed, and she staggered and moaned with feverish pain. The dominatress contemptuously helped her, putting Candy's right arm around her own shoulders and her left arm around Candy's waist to support the naked, tottering dark-brunette, and led her to the bathroom at the end of the cellar. Then, compelling the weeping beauty to kneel on all fours, she used her gloved fingers to remove the "fig" and jeeringly ordered Candy to relieve herself and to be quick about it.
The blindfold removed, Candy saw her aunt's face, with makeup, seductive, the mouth and eyes lax with the satiety of physical love which she had enjoyed with Susan Trotter. She was left for a few moments to perform her natural functions, and moaned with relief as at last her torturing enema was evacuated. After she had tidied herself as best she could, she stumbled out of the bathroom, and Jennifer Danton again assisted her up the stairway but this time to an isolated little room without windows, into which Candy was locked with the admonition that her meals would be brought to her and that tomorrow night she and her aunt would have a lengthy interview.
For Jennifer Danton had determined to enslave her beautiful niece, believing that she had broken the young woman's spirit by this cruel punishment and the humiliating degradation of the enema. And because she lusted for Candy's creamy body, she intended to make her sister's only child a Lesbian loveslave.
Candy sobbingly flung herself down on the narrow cot which was the only piece of furniture in this cell-like room, and exhaustion at last claimed her and she slept.
Jennifer Danton then returned to her own bed, and slept dreamlessly, smiling at her own successful vengeance over Callie Winston. Moreover, she wanted to be on hand this next evening, because two new guests were arriving who were to be the passion partners of lovely Peggy Allenby and Maxine Storch. Her venture had prospered, and she was certain that by the end of fall, there would be ample money to run the school, even to broaden it to attract new enrollees.
These two guests, both men in their late fifties and enormously wealthy, co-owners of a Detroit wholesale drug chain, had already arrived this noon and were admitted to the house by Lucille Emory, led to the special rooms to which Maxine and Peggy would be brought to them tonight. The cook busied herself preparing a tasty lunch for the two honored and affluent guests, and then they were left to their own devices there till after dinner, when they would claim their lovely young amorous partners.
But in Sheriff Ted Hawkins' office, all the men having dined at Borchard's, six men and the Sheriffs own nephew Philip had gathered, and Ted Hawkins was briefing them on what they were to do.
"We'll get out there around eleven o'clock, because those fellows who came here this noon are out there for the reasons I guess you boys knew pretty well now. They won't have gone to sleep by then, you can bet your balls on that," here he guffawed and lit a fresh cigar. "We'll watch them in the act."
"Say, Ted," Lem Sayers, the town banker, a lean, bearded man of fifty-five, spoke up eagerly, "you want us to rough up those cute fillies they got in that school?"
[[[ IMAGE 14 ]]]
"Nope. You don't bother with the young stuff, then you'd really get into trouble. You might even bring down the Feds in on this. You just stick to those two broads Miss Jennifer's got teaching the gals. There'll be plenty of pussy from them. Me, I'm saving Miss Jennifer all to myself-and I hope you boys got no objections? You know how I've been keeping a hard-on for that bitch a long time."
"So long as we can have some fun with that Delia Henshaw and that uppity Lucille Emory," Abner Borchard, the restaurant owner, fifty, a widower, fat and nearly bald, spoke up, "you can marry that Danton bitch for all we care."
"I'll marry her, mebbe jist fer one night, to start with," Sheriff Hawkins sniggered, and the others burst into bawdy laughter. "Now you boys got it all straight what you're gonna do? Put on your robes, and Cyrus, you got that old Ford station wagon, that'll do jist fine to take us all along."
"This is gonna be a real good night, Ted, and you've got my vote for putting us in the way of it," Grover Johnson, a lanky, gray-haired man forty-eight piped up.
"Thanks, boys. I always try to do my bit as your sheriff. I'm letting my nephew Phil come along for the fun, 'cause he's a pretty good cocksmith himself, and anyhow he just came to town and he's gonna be my deputy. Fact is, if you boys'll stick around jist a coupla seconds, I'll have him sworn in right now."
* * *
It was eleven o'clock, and a sudden burst of summer rain had cleared the air, and now the moon was out and it was very still around the old house. Only a few lights gleamed from the windows, lights in the bedchamber of Jennifer Danton, who was amusing herself with lovely auburn-haired Susan, playfully spanking the charming auburn-haired young beauty across her knees, she herself clad only in her boots and gloves and the one-piece cuirass. Peggy Allenby, naked except for garterbelt and smokecolored nylons and highheel pumps, was groaning and squirming under the vigorous thrusts of her "John" of the night, while Maxine Storch was timidly submitting to going over his partner's lap for a bare-ass spanking before being told to get on all fours and take it dogfashioned.
Candy Winston tossed and turned on the narrow, hard cot, wondering how she could escape, whether she could try overpowering Delia or Lucille when they came to bring her her next meat. She had supper on a tray brought in by Lucille, who had set it down and gone out without a word as to what was to happen. Just wait until she got home, wait until she told Mother how Aunt Jennifer had treated her!
The old Ford station wagon skirted the road leading to the school, turned off to the left and went behind it, parked in an isolated clump of bushes so that no one in the school building could see it. The occupants got out, all wearing white robes. They had taken pillowcases to pull over their heads, and they had cut slits for the eyes and nose and mouth, very much like the Ku Klux Klan. Portly Sheriff Hawkins led his cohorts past the recreation grounds and towards the back entrance of the school. "Don't make a sound, you boys," he warned in a whisper. "Seems like I remember there's a busted windowpane out here on the back porch right off the kitchen or the pantry or something like that. Mebbe we kin git in without raising a ruckus, and then we can .really catch em raw."
"I can hardly wait!" Abner Borchard panted, licking his lips. "I want that nice big-tittied Delia to start off with."
"Now take it easy, don't spoil things. We got all night, and you know damn well these broads ain't gonna put up no fuss, not when I tell them they can go to jail for twenty years fer runnin' a redlight house," the Sheriff cautioned.
The whiterobed men quietly made their way to the porch, Sheriff Hawkins inserted his hand into the opening where the glass had been broken, found the lock and turned it. Then carefully he pushed the window up a little, stooped and caught it at the bottom and yanked it all the way up. A moment later, he was inside, beckoning to the others. "Keep it quiet now," he warned again.
There was dead silence in the house, and as the eight intruders walked slowly up the stairs, glancing around to be ready for any possibility, Delia Henshaw at that moment chose to leave her room to go to the dormitory where Willa Gormer was sleeping. Willa had had the hairbrush from Delia last Saturday night, and had begged off a second dose, submissively promising to do anything Delia wanted. Well, tonight Willa was going to pay her. debts, the auburn-haired instructress had determined. She was going to strip naked and get into bed and show just how nice she could be with her lips and tongue if she didn't want a really good thrashing.
Clad in her nightgown and bathrobe and slippers, the auburn-haired instructress was just about to put her hand on the doorknob, the room in which Willa was quartered with Edwina Rolley, a sixteen-year-old simpering blonde whom Delia had also marked for eventual domination, when she caught sight of the group of hooded men coming up the stairs. She shrank back, a hand to her mouth, her eyes enormous with disbelief. Then she turned to flee, but Sheriff Hawkins, moving with great agility for a man of his bulk, seized her by the wrists, spun her around and clapped his other hand over her mouth to silence any outcry. "Now you jist settle down and take it easy, honey," he muttered thickly. "Just one yell, and you'll wish you ain't never been born, take it from me. Now where's Miss Jennifer?"
"In-in-in her room-oh for God's sake, don't hurt me-what-what are you going to do?" Delia panted as he cautiously eased his palm off her trembling mouth.
"Show me where her room is. Oh yeah, where does that Emory bitch room out?" the Sheriff demanded, twisting Delia's wrists until she winced with pain.
"Oww-I'll show you, oh please let go of my wrist, you're hurting me," Delia moaned, squirming and twisting.
"You jist do that, and it might go easier with you," he warned. "First we'll take Miss Emory. You point out her room right now. Come on, you guys!"
The men followed him eagerly down the hall to a door to which the trembling auburn-haired instructress pointed. She was deathly pale, and her teeth were chattering. The Sheriffs eyes glinted through the slits in his hood, seeing the rapid rise and fall of her big bubbies, in the thin nightie and the loosely draped bathrobe which she hadn't quite buttoned all the way up. By God, he'd have a piece of her twat before the night was done, after he'd given Miss Jennifer what was what!"
Lucille Emory hadn't gone to sleep yet, but she was on her bed in a shortie nightie, smoking a cigarette thinking of the pleasures she might be allowed to have with Candy Winston. Dear Jennifer had promised that she and Delia might have to go at that snotty piece, and Lucille was just itching to take Candy over her lap, her hands and wrists bound, gagged and blindfolded, and wear out a paddle or a hairbrush on the big creamy ass of hers, then make her gam and pussyrub.
She hadn't locked her door, either, and so when the trembling Delia Henshaw pointed to the door and Sheriff Hawkins turned the knob carefully, he found it yielding to his touch. A finger to his lips, he gestered two of the men, in, and Pete Helmerton and Lem Sayers hurried into the room and seized Lucille, clapping her hands over her mouth to keep her from shrieking, then dragging her out of bed in the filmy, shortie nightie whose hem fell only just below her pussy.
Struggling and twisting, her eyes wild with terror, Lucille was nearly fainting as her two captors leeringly dragged her out, forced her against the wall and then swiftly and expertly bound her wrists behind her back, gagged her with a dirty handkerchief and wound a torn piece of cloth over that and knotted it at the back of her neck to prevent her from crying out. At the Sheriffs sign, the same was done to Delia Henshaw. Then Jed Murtree, who ran the livery stable and also the farm equipment and feed store beside it, a short squat man in his late forties, and Abner Borchard accompanied the Sheriff down the hall to the quarters of Jennifer Danton, while Pete, Lem, Grover, Cyrus and the Sheriffs nephew dragged along the two cowering instructresses.
[[[ IMAGE 15 ]]]
Jennifer Danton lay on her bed, her head tilted back on the two pillows, her eyes wild with ecstasy. Crouching between her straddled thighs, Susan Trotter had swiftly unfastened the gusset piece of the cuirass and was preparing to gamahuch her when suddenly there was a loud knock at the door.
"My God-who can that be?" Jennifer Danton gasped. "Go see, Susan, put on your robe or something, quick!"
The naked auburn-haired young woman got off the bed, seized Jennifer's own bathrobe and donned it, and then hurried to the door and wairly opened it. When she saw the white hooded figures she uttered a shriek and tried to push the door closed, but in vain. Jed and Abner burst in, the Sheriff following, and the first two seized Susan and held her tightly while Sheriff Ted Hawkins walked over to the bed and stood leering down at the horrified dominatress: "Well, well, well, Jennie girl, here you are in bed, jist the way I've been dreaming about you, you bitch. Come along now. You and me has got business to settle."
"How dare you! How dare you break into my house without any reason-and those hoodswho are those men-"
"They happen to be lawabiding citizens of Kentley. Now don't give me none of your lip, Jennie. It won't do no good. You see, in my jail I got a fellow by the name of Edwards, 'n he claims he paid you a lotta loot to fuck one of the older babes you got in this here school of yours. We got you dead to right, Jennie, you and your two teachers Lucille and Delia. You're all of you gonna learn that Kentley ain't gonna stand for what you been trying to git away with, hear me? All right, boys, let that little bitch go, and help me get this whore out to the car!"
Jennifer Danton tried to shriek, tried to wriggle away, but Jed and Abner caught her and dragged her back. Sheriff Ted Hawkins laughed bawdily, seeing the loose flap between her legs and guessing what had been going on. Then, taking hold of it with his pudgy hands, he ripped and twisted until the cuirass was torn off Jennifer Danton's voluptuous body, exposing the thick dark fleece of her cunt, the still superbly firm and panting titties. He licked his lips: "Jeez, just like I thought, you're still damn nice fer fuckin', Jennie gal. But first you gotta learn your lesson. All right, boy, take her out to the car. Gag and tie her up like the others."
"Oh, don't, Sheriff Hawkins, I'll pay you, give you anything you want, but for God's sake don't do this to us!" the lesbian dominatress panted.
"Hey now, I just remembered. Where the hell is that cute niece of yours!" the lawman demanded.
"In-in a room-she was a bad girl-I-I had to lock her up-oh for God's sake, please, Mr. Hawkins, I'll do anything you want, only don't hurt us, please don't!"
"You tell me where Candy is, and it might go a little easier. I gotta real cocksmith of a nephew, he's got eyes for that sexy bitch from Chicago. Might even want to marry her, for all I know," he chuckled evilly.
Dying of terror and shame, the naked dominatress babblingly instructed the men where they could find Candy, and then the Sheriff himself, once her hands were tied and her mouth gagged, lifted her in his arms and strode down the stairs to the waiting stationwagon where Delia and Lucille had already been taken.
He paused just long enough to tell his nephew where Candy could be found, ordering the youth to bring her along for the fun. Five minutes later, Candy Winston, naked as the day she was born (for all her clothes had been removed and none given her during her incarceration in the little cell) was dragged out screaming and fighting by the Sheriffs nephew and Abner Bor chard, who took occasion of her nakedness to pinch her ass and titties and to poke their fingers into her virgin cunthole.
She too was gagged and bound, and thus four captives lay in the back of the station wagon as the hooded men got in and drove off to a wooded hollow.
When they stopped, Sheriff Hawkins ordered, "Let's have Lucille and Delia tied up together showing us how they play around with their pussies when we ain't looking, boys!"
Raucous cheers greeted this suggestion, and in a trice Delia and Lucille, stripped stark naked, found themselves tied by the wrists to a heavy bough of an old oak tree, a rope round their waists, out there in the moonlight which left their quivering, glossy, satiny bodies out-lined in the most lascivious and suggestive way.
The hooded men then peeled switches from the bushes nearby, and made a circle of the sobbing captives. Meanwhile Sheriff Hawkins, seizing the naked dominatress, marched her by the scruff of her neck, his knee occasionally banging into her bare ass, out to watch the fun. "This is whatcher gonna git when we get done with them, Jennie gal," he promised. Jennifer Danton closed her eyes and moaned, her head hanging, her face crimson with shame. Her lesbian delights had weaned her away from ever wanting a man, now, and the thought that she should be the sexslave of the crude, boorish hillbilly made her nearly vomit out of sick loathing.
But Sheriff Hawkins cupped her chin and squee'zed it so cruelly that she nearly screamed: "Look, watch and learn somepin!" he hissed.
Delia and Lucille had both broken down and began to plead tearfully for mercy from their captives. But now the sickening hiss and smacks of the switches falling on their bare bottoms and thighs and backs responded, and soon Delia and Lucille were shrieking and twisting and writhing in their bonds, their faces turned back over their shoulders to implore mercy.
"You gotta girlfuck, you bitches," Lem Sayers growled as he applied a whistling cut of his flexible switch over the base of Delia's jouncy ass which made her lunge forward with a wild shriek of pain. "Rub pussies, you little whores, or I'll whip you raw and cut you up between the legs, so help me!"
"We have to-owwahrrr-oh, Lucille, Lucille, I can't help it-I have to, I can't stand this awful pain-owweeeyeowww!!!" Delia Henshaw shrieked between sobbing whimpers as switches cut across her shoulders and round her tender side.
Frantically then, she began to rub her mouth against Lucille's, who in turn was being encouraged by her own whippers.
Before the two young women at last satisfied their cruel captors by pussyrubbing to climax, there were countless marks turning livid and raw on their shuddering bottoms, and they hung, listless and panting, their throats hoarse from shrieking.
Then at Sheriff Hawkins' command, they were untied, and two men climbed the bough to shift them so that they had their backs to each other. For now they were going to be fucked, and Pete and Lem and Jed lined up in front of Lucille, while Abner and Grover and Cyrus waited hungrily to sample Delia's charms.
Wild cries and sobbing prayers rent the air as the two lesbian instructresses piteiously begged their captors not to do it to them. In vain. Each shrieked and twisted and recoiled, their bottoms bumping together and adding new pain to their merciless suffering, as their first ravagers thrust their pricks deep into their cunts and, grabbing their titties, began to thrust deeply back and forth.
Philip Hawkins had slipped out of his slacks and shorts, and was naked except for a poloshirt and undershirt under the white robe. He was amusing himself with Candy Winston, pinching and stroking her thighs and ass, pulling out pussyhairs while the naked dark-brunette wriggled and twisted and tried to kick and free herself, moaning and wailing through the gag which silenced her. , The lines changed now, so that Delia and Lu cille each had had six fuckings, and their bodies sagged in their bonds.
"Now it's your turn, Jennie," Sheriff Hawkins panted as he lifted the struggling dominatress out of the station wagon and carried her towards the oak tree.
Eager hands reached for the writhing naked body of the superb imperatrix, who tried to fight but in vain. She too had her wrists corded and tied to the bough, teetering, clad only in her boots and gloves, her toes struggled for purchase on the ground as she looked fearfully back over her shoulder and saw Ted Hawkins, with hood and mask pulled off, rolling up his sleeve and whisked a flexible switch in his right hand.
"Oh don't-don't whip me, oh for God's sake, Ted Hawkins, I'll pay you, I'll do anything!" she cried.
He grinned salaciously. "You'll do even more than that, Jennie gal, by the time I get through whuppin' your big ass." With this, he drew back his arm and sent the switch dancing over the tops of her hips, and Jennifer Danton uttered a wild cry of pain and lunged forward, heedless of what she showed the greedily watching men.
Twenty times the switch rose and cracked across her bottom, and her hysterical pleas and supplications excited them to new lust. But they left her to the passions of the lawman, knowing that she was banned to them. Instead, they vented the rut on the sagging bodies of poor Lucille and Delia again, this time several of the men buggering the unfortunate naked instructresses.
Now Sheriff Hawkins turned to face the weeping, half-fainting dominatress. Playfully he flicked the switch over her panting titties, then put it between her legs and flicked it upwards just to sting her cunt: "Now, I'm going to thrash your front, bitch."
"Ohhnooooo!!!! I'll do anything, anything in the world, I swear I will, Sheriff, don't whip me there, oh for God's sake not there!" Jennifer Danton babbled.
"Anything? You hear that, boys? You're witnesses now, remember. All right, Jennie, I'm going to give ya a chance. Cut her down, boys!" the lawman ordered.
After it was done, Jennifer Danton was ordered to kneel on all fours. Then Sheriff Hawkins yanked down his fly and liberated his swollen prick. "Now, you whore, blow me," he smiled. Lifting the switch, he cracked it across her shoulders, and Jennifer Danton with a shriek at once crawled forward and put her lips to his ramrod, retching and gagging in her abhorrence.
But at the Sheriff's sign, two men stepped forward and swung their switches over Jennifer's already cruelly stripped ass, and she no longer hesitated. Almost avidly, noisily, she licked and slushed and sucked, till finally he spurted in her mouth, commanding her to swallow every drop.
Then he stared down at her, brutal grin on his fat face. "I tell you what, Jennie. Now that I taught you your lesson, I don't see no reason why you and I can't get along jist fine. Only, you're gonna marry me, see? Then maybe we can run that whorehouse of yours together, get me? Now think it over good, because if you say no, you're gonna get strung up and given the works by all the boys. And then I'm going to run you out of town on a rail, tarred and feathered, like they used to do with bitches like you. Well?"
Crushed, annihilated, Jennifer Danton nodded, moaning in her defeat and shame.
"Phil," the Sheriff triumphantly bawled, "how ya comin' with Candy there?"
Philip Hawkins had pushed Candy out of the stationwagon, a hand at the scruff of her neck, his other hand pinching her creamy naked ass, making her stumble forward, weeping and groaning and pleading for mercy. He had taken off the gag, but left her wrists tied behind her back.
"She's still ornery, Uncle Ted," he called.
"Too bad" for her, boy. String her up there," the Sheriff ordered.
"Oh no, for God's sake no, don't whip me, don't hurt me, I'll do whatever you want, only please don't hurt me!" Candy's prickteasing days were over forever.
"Now wait a minute, boys," the Sheriff guffawed. "Phil, how do you feel about this little heifer?"
"Why, Uncle Ted, I'd sure like to marry this little bitch, I sure would," the gangling youth sniggered.
"Tell you what, Candy gal," the Sheriff said affiably. "I'm gonna marry your aunt, see? Now if you say yes to Phil, and he's a good boy, he's gonna be my deputy, we'll keep the nice little family together. Otherwise, I don't think I can hold these guys back from tying you up and whipping your ass till it's raw and then fucking the shit out of you. Now what's it gonna be, Candy girl?"
Shrinking with terror and loathing, Candy Winston for the first time in her life found herself saying yes to a man's desires.
"That's settled, then. We'll have old Preacher Roland tie the knot tomorrow afternoon," Sheriff Hawkins announced. "And the wedding party's on me. Go on now, Phil, show us guys what a cocksmith you are. Anyhow, once you bang the little bitch, you gotta marry her, haw haw haw!"
Candy uttered a cry, but the gangling youth had already flung her down on the ground on her back. Tied as her wrists were behind her back, she couldn't struggle, and a few moments shrieked as she felt his rampant prick tear through her virgin cherry. Then he was humping her, kissing her titties, pinching her ass, panting and gasping his joy with her: "Jeez, Uncle Ted, she's got a tight box on her, Candy has, oh am I gonna marry you, you little whore. Shake that ass of yours, Candy, I'm comin'!"
And thus it was a few days later that Callie Winston received an incredible wire from her sister and her daughter, informing her of their double wedding.
EPILOGUE
To their anguished despair, Jennifer Danton and Candy Winston "stood up" in front of the elderly preacher the very next afternoon after their capture and punishment by the Night Riders, and wanly and faintly stammered "Yyes" when asked if they would take Sheriff Ted Hawkins and his nephew as their respective husbands. The very men who had brutalized them and Delia and Lucille were there, properly dressed and of course unmasked, to act as wit nesses and to kiss the brides. For Jennifer and her niece, it was the beginning of a degrading martyrdom. For, as Sheriff Ted Hawkins genially ordered, "G'wan, you boys, we ain't jealous none, Phil'n me. Kiss 'em all you want, 'n if you wanna cop a coupla free feels of their asses and tits, we won't hold it against ya none, will we, Phil boy?"
But that night, while both captive brides timorously awaited the wedding night, Sheriff Hawkins had still another surprise to augment their suspense-filled anguish. "You broads got purty badly marked up from that switchin'," he affably announced, "so Phil'n me aren't gonna fuck you or horse around much withcha tanite. Jist you peel down raw now, though, 'n thank us fer being so considerate. Hell, we're jist as hep in Kentley as dem city folks who fool around all night before they put it inta a girl's cooze, haw haw haw!"
When Jennifer and Candy blushingly and tearfully begged for mercy, Sheriff Hawkins scowled, then began to loosen his heavy leather belt. They needed no further encouragement. Soon they were both naked, and, at his order, kneeling side by side, hands clasped behind their quivering backs.
"Now you jist blow us both, gals," he commanded, zipping down his fly and presenting the aghast former dominatress with his swollen prick. "Phil, boy, make your little wifie take care of you the same way. Best thing is to start a new wife off so she knows who's boss, see?"
[[[ IMAGE 16 ]]]
"Sure, Uncle Ted," the gangling towheaded youth grinned as he opened his fly and exhibited his virile prong. "Git with it, Candy honey!"
Candy, with a sob, closed her eyes and submissively began her now marital duties, while Jennifer, livid with shame and revulsion, was compelled to suck her husband's spunk downbeing warned not to spit out a single drop if she didn't want her ass whaled to a frazzle. Then, after licking their husbands' organs clean, the naked women were permitted to go to sleep alone.
But that surprising leniency was only a prelude to what Ted Hawkins and his nephew had in store for them. Two nights later, again compelled to strip naked, it was evident that the marks of their flogging had faded. The Sheriff then gloatingly commanded, "Jennie gal, go bring me that big wooden hairbrush from my bedroom dresser 'n git back here fast if you know what's good for you."
Biting her lips, the svelte dominatress was about to obey when he added, "Hey, put on yer boots 'n gloves first, though. But that's all, savvy? Now shake ass, bitch!"
Phil Hawkins grinned at the squirming, apprehensive naked Candy. "I'm gonna be nice to you, bitch," he told the dark-brown-haired young woman. "I'm jist gonna use my hand to warm your fanny. But you better give me a real good fucking, or I'll take the skin off with Uncle Ted's belt after that, git me?"
"Y-yes," Candy moaned.
Her head rocked back as he came over to her and slapped her face viciously. "Yes what, bitch?" he snarled.
"Y ... yes ...'s ... sir-"
"Master! That's what I wantcha to call me from now on."
"Hey, that's good, boy, that is! I knew I was doin' the right thing when I madeja my deputy-hey, Jennie-" as Jennifer Danton just entered the living room, face scarlet and downcast-"you call me master too'n don't fergit it. Now gimme that hairbrush and jist you git your ass up over my lap fast!"
And soon Jennifer Hawkins was wailing and kicking, begging like a child for mercy as the hairbrush rapidly rose and fell with emphatic, noisy whacks all over her reddening bare bottom as her leering husband, his left hand gripping her gloved wrists, administered a lengthy and agonizing spanking. However, Candy, across the lap of her young husband who sprawled in a deep thickly upholstered armchair across the room, was faring little better. His left hand gripping the scruff of her neck, Phil spanked her rounded creamy behind with the full strength of his right arm till soon she too was screaming for mercy and promising to be a good wife.
Then their real wedding night began. Mounted over the sobbing Jennifer, Ted Hawkins fucked her ruthlessly, while poor weeping redbottomed Candy was obliged to mount astride her young husband as he sat in the chair and squeezed her panting titties....
It's October now, and Delia Henshaw and Lucille Emory are still instructresses at Jennifer's former school. Only now, it caters to wealthy tourists and customers from the surrounding area-those who can afford it, of course. And because Sheriff Ted Hawkins is a broadminded man, there are nights when he orders his subdued, obedient wife Jennifer to go to his nephew's room and "give my nephew a good fucking, you hear, Jennie gal, and I better not hear any complaints from him either, git me?" And on those occasions, to be sure, young Phil Hawkins gives his docile and fearful young bride Candy similar instructions on how best to please his virile cocksmith of an uncle.
