Mistress Sheila led young Edgar into the room where the slave girl waited. The college boy trembled with excitement as he followed Sheila.
She unlocked the door and opened it. A shaft of light fell across the bed.
The slave girl was bound naked to the bed. She was young, in her early teens, but her body was splendid. A black leather hood masked her face.
She was chained spread-eagled. Her body was pale and white and shining. Her small, pert breasts trembled as she shook with agitation and fear.
Her pussy was nakedly vulnerable. It was lightly bushed, with soft, thin pink lips. Her body was slim, with long legs and a narrow waist.
"God!" Edgar licked his lips. His hand strayed unconsciously to his crotch. His member bulged in thick erection. He stroked it as he stared at the girl.
Mistress Sheila said, "There she is, darling. She's waiting for you. Take her."
She watched with grim satisfaction as Edgar quickly stripped naked. The gagged slave girl groaned as he climbed on the bed and mounted her.
Edgar didn't know that the girl behind the mask was-his very own sister!
CHAPTER ONE
The noonday sun shone down into the exercise yard of the Moorer County Women's Correctional Institute. The female inmates clustered in the yard.
Sheila Ryan sat in the corner, with her back to the brick wall. High overhead, guards walked on the ramparts, patrolling back and forth.
She was five foot eight and weighed 130 pounds. There wasn't an ounce of fat on her superbly toned and conditioned body. She was in top shape.
She had had lots of time to get in shape. There wasn't much else for her to do here in this prison for women except exercise-and try to survive.
She was an adult white female. Her smooth flesh had a prison pallor from so many hours spent out of the sun. She was thirty-one years old.
She looked almost ten years younger. Her face was sharp, intense, intelligent. It was too distinctive looking to ever be called merely pretty.
Her hair was light brown, and cut close to her scalp. She could have grown it longer, but she didn't want to. Long hair could be dangerous.
In a fight, long hair served as a convenient handle for one's opponent. Sheila was a survivor supreme, and she did everything she could to maximize her chances.
Her face was white, with high cheekbones, a long straight nose, and thin lips. Her eyes were pale blue, almost gray. They were hard and cold.
Not even the shapeless, state-issued uniform of faded denim could hide the curves of her body. The uniform was the standard one issued to all the inmates of the prison. Its coarse fabric constantly irritated her soft skin.
She had served seven months of a three-to-five year sentence for criminal assault. Her lawyer was working on her appeal, but its chances didn't look good.
Her high, firm breasts thrust out against the denim blouse, stretching it in the front. A plain, unadorned white bra cupped her lush breasts.
Her shoulders were wide, and her arms were strong. She had done some weight training since she entered the prison, and had never been stronger or in better shape.
Her torso was lean. The muscles of her belly were clearly defined. Her hips were wide and womanly, and her rump was rounded and alluringly curved.
Her long, muscular legs stretched out in front of her as she leaned with her back to the wall. The fabric of her denim workpants was thin, and she could feel every little fragment of gravel which pressed against her buttocks.
She sat next to Margie. Margie was an old con in her early fifties. She had been inside for fifteen years. She was serving a sentence of twenty-five years to life.
Margie's common-law husband had raped their ten year old daughter. Margie buried an axe in his skull, then dismembered the body into a dozen pieces.
Apart from that, she was a very nice lady, and Sheila enjoyed talking with her. Margie was prison-wise, and had a lot of information to offer.
Around the yard, the inmates were divided into their various cliques. Most of them had banded together into groups for mutual protection.
Those who weren't protected by some powerful group were fair game for all the other inmates. There was a caste system in the prison as rigid as any in India or China. Here, the most violent and dangerous inmates held the most prestige, and ruled the roost, demanding and getting privileges from those who were weaker.
As in other prisons, the strong made slaves of the weak. Those inmates who couldn't defend themselves were forced to sexually satisfy their brutal masters.
Many of the frailer, prettier inmates had "married" themselves to tough and vicious felons. They were sexual slaves, but their masters protected them from being the common property of any woman tough enough to rape them.
As Sheila looked around the yard, she could see the various groups. There were the big tough women, and their smaller and prettier
"wives".
A young girl, barely out of her teens, walked across the yard. She was slender and petite, with pale blonde hair which shone in the sun.
Sheila felt a stirring of interest as she watched this young beauty. The girl had a sensitive, delicate face. Her eyes were bright blue.
She was frowning, and her soft pink lips were turned down. She looked desperately unhappy. She walked slowly, hands behind her back, looking at her feet.
Her breasts were small and pointed. Her body was slim and girlish, and she looked much younger and more girlish than she actually was.
All the inmates were over eighteen, and Sheila calculated that this girl couldn't be much older than that. But her delicate features, and slight, thin body, made her look like she was in her early teens.
As the girl crossed the yard, many of the inmates watched her progress with hungry eyes, Sheila included. The girl passed a group of big, tough women who were tossing around a medicine ball. One of the women was a short, squat sneak thief and shoplifter named Ethel. As Ethel saw the girl go by, she whistled at her and made an obscene remark, telling her what she'd like to do to her.
The girl blushed red, but continued walking. Ethel stepped out of her circle of inmates, and started after the girl, making kissing and sucking noises.
Suddenly, one of her partners threw the medicine ball at Ethel without warning. The canvas covered ball was particularly heavy, and caught her in the middle.
Taken by surprise, the ball hit Ethel in the belly, knocking her down. She sat down hard, gasping for breath. Murder flashed on her face.
She tried to rise, to attack the inmate who had surprised her. Her other friends clustered around her, holding her back. One of them said something to her.
As the inmate spoke, the fury left Ethel's face, to be replaced by fear. Ethel looked across the yard, at its opposite end, where a group of the toughest inmates were gathered. She shuddered. Her friends helped her up and brushed her off.
"Strange," Sheila said. "What was all that about? And who is that girl?"
"Trouble," Margie said. "That's who the girl is. Ethel don't know how close she come to having her throat cut for her. She messed with real trouble."
"Explain."
"That pretty little thing, her name is Dolly," Margie said. "And Dolly is private property. She belongs to Carmen. You know how crazy Carmen is, honey. She'll stick a shiv in the belly of anybody who tries to make time with her Dolly."
Sheila shrugged. "I don't think Carmen's so tough."
"By herself, she ain't. It's her pal that makes her a terror. That's that big, mean bitch, Althea," Margie explained. "She's Carmen's right arm. They run their whole cell block. Carmen's the organizer, and Althea's the muscle. They're both bad news. Althea can snap a neck like a twig, and Carmen's an out-and-out psycho."
"Personally, I think they're both a pair of shitheads," Sheila said. "With inflated reputations. That Dolly's too sweet a piece for the likes of them."
Margie threw back her head and laughed, exposing a mouthful of cracked, rotten teeth. "Sheila, you'll be the death of me yet! You're a joker in this deck of cards, that's for damned sure! What are you going to do, take Dolly from Carmen?! Haw!"
Margie was still laughing at the very idea when Sheila uncoiled her supple body and stood up. She stretched like a cat in the sun.
Her shadow fell across Margie's face. Margie's laughter faded and died away. She said, "Hey--hey, what are you doing?! You ain't serious? Don't do nothing stupid, Sheila! Hey, where are you going? What are you doing?!"
"I'm going to buy me some trouble," Sheila said, walking away.
Margie started to rise, then sank back down to a sitting position. She muttered darkly, shaking her head from side to side, chewing on her lower lip.
Sheila's long-legged strides took her across the yard. Dolly sat by herself. Nobody wanted to risk Carmen's anger by associating with the girl.
Dolly was reading a book. Her thin brows were knit in a frown of concentration as she read. Her lips moved slightly as she read the page.
Sheila looked down at her. She saw that it was a book of poems. She knew the author. He was a sappy sentimentalist from the greeting-card school of verse. Sheila found him insipid and sugary, but millions bought his books.
Dolly was concentrating so hard, that she didn't even notice Sheila at first.
Sheila said, "I can see that you're the romantic type."
Dolly gasped, looked up, and clapped the book shut. Fear was on her face.
The girl's wide eyes were as bright as the sky. Her denim blouse had its top two buttons open, showing a soft white curve of her bosom.
The sight made Sheila's mouth water and her pussy tingle. She wanted to see a lot more of this lovely young girl. She wanted to see her stark naked, in her bed.
"You like poetry," Sheila smiled. "So do I. I love beautiful things-like you. My name is Sheila. What's your name, honey?"
Dolly pressed the book against her small breasts. "Please-leave me alone."
"That's not a very nice thing to say, especially to a fellow lover of a poetry. And maybe even a lover, hmmmm? I hope you're not afraid of me. Are you?"
Dolly looked up at her, studying her. After a moment, she said, "No, I'm not afraid of you. I could be, but I'm not. But you mustn't talk to me."
"Why shouldn't I talk to you? Even though we're in prison, there's no law against talking to a pretty girl-or is there?"
"Yes, there is." Dolly's voice was soft and breathless. "Please go away."
"Maybe I will, after you've told me your name," Sheila said.
"It's Dolly-Dolores, really." The girl looked nervously past Sheila.
"That's a beautiful name. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. I have a feeling about you, Dolly. I think that we have a lot in common, and that we should get to know each other much, much better. Look at me, Dolly. Do you fancy me?"
"You don't understand," the girl said. "You could get in big, big trouble! Even just for talking to me! For your own sake, please go away!"
"You don't want me to get hurt, do you? That's because you like me-don't you?"
"Yes," Dolly whispered. Then her eyes narrowed, and she gasped with fear.
Sheila looked over her shoulder. She saw Carmen and her enforcer, Althea, hurrying across the prison yard toward them. Other inmates watched silently.
"Oh, it's too late!" Dolly moaned. She shivered, and her teeth chattered. She hugged herself. "I tried to warn you! I'm sorry, I tried but you didn't listen!"
"Since you like poetry, Dolly, I'll leave you with this thought for now. 'The grave's a fine and private place, but none I think do there embrace.'"
Sheila smiled. "I'll be embracing you before very long, Dolly. Dream about that. The day of your deliverance is very, very close."
Sheila turned. Carmen and Althea were very close, too.
Carmen was a street hooker who had specialized in mugging her Johns. One night, she pulled a blade on a trick who turned out to be a decoy cop.
The cop told her she was busted. Carmen ripped his guts open with the blade. He died. She would be inside prison for the rest of her life.
She was a tall, rangy brown woman, with Spanish and Indian blood in her. Her black hair was styled in a short cut, with a part on the side.
Her bony face looked lopsided. The cops who arrested her had beaten the hell out of her with their blackjacks, and the surgeons hadn't been able to put her face back together the same way. Her dark, loony eyes were set close together.
Her breasts were firm and surprisingly lush. She was lean, but her rump was high and rounded. She had had her prison uniforms tailored to fit her. She walked with a wide, ranging stride of her long legs. Nerves twitched in her face.
Althea was a rock. She was 250 pounds of muscle and bone. She was built like a fireplug, and her brown fists were thick as hams.
Sheila readied herself. She spread her legs shoulder width apart, and let her hands dangle loosely from her sides. Her face was composed and blandly smiling.
The other inmates could smell trouble like sharks can smell blood. The air was heavy with tension, as though a massive electrical storm was brewing.
"Hi, Carmen," Sheila said. "Nice day, isn't it?"
"Sure," Carmen said. "You picked a good day for dying, cunt."
Althea said, "Gimme the word, Carmen, and I'll break the bitch's back."
"You girls seem upset by something," Sheila said. "What could it be?"
"You're real cute, cunt," Carmen said. "You messed with something that doesn't belong with you. That crime carries the death penalty."
Althea said, "You know who this is, Carmen? This here's that whore who was running a house for beat freaks, whupping all them rich boy's asses!"
Carmen's eyes narrowed in recognition. "Sure ... only she beat the wrong boy too hard, and now she's in here. That was a bad mistake, cunt. But trying to move in on my little Dolly girl-that wrote your death warrant."
"I can see that you girls don't want me around," Sheila said.
"Who you calling girl, you motherfucking piece of trash?" Althea said.
Carmen hissed, "You know what I'm going to do to you, cunt? Before I kill you, I mean? I'm going to make you eat my shit. I'll make you beg to eat it!"
Sheila spit in Carmen's eyes. Carmen shrieked like a crazed animal.
"What's going on here? Break it up, you assholes!"
A prison guard pushed her way onto the scene. It was Mabel Creel, a hulking matron who had only joined the prison staff a month ago.
Mabel was as big as Althea. She. wore a beige matron's blouse, and a dull brown skirt. She carried a nightstick in her oversized fists.
In the thirty days she had been working in the prison, Mabel had already made a fearsome reputation for herself. She was rough and tough and totally fearless.
Not even Althea was inclined to pit herself against Mabel. She held Carmen back from attacking Sheila. Carmen was almost foaming at the mouth. "Settle down, shitface." Mabel sounded bored, almost weary. High up on the wall, the guards peered down, alert for the first signs of a riot.
Carmen struggled crazily as she tried to break free from Althea. Mabel calmed her down. She shoved one end of her nightstick into Carmen's belly.
Carmen let out a whoosh of air. Her face paled, and she doubled over and vomited. Sheila nimbly stepped back, avoiding the hot, liquid spray.
Althea held Carmen upright. Dolly, terrified, rose up and took hold of one of Carmen's arms, trying to support her. Sheila smiled politely.
Althea said, "We'll see you later, bitch."
"I'll be waiting," Sheila said sweetly. "Bye-bye, Dolly!" She blew the girl a kiss. Carmen was thrown into a new fury, but Althea restrained her.
The trio of Althea, Carmen, and Dolly crossed the yard. Mabel ominously tapped her nightstick against Sheila's rump, swatting it hard.
"Get your ass in gear," Mabel said. "You've got an appointment."
"Oh? With whom?" Sheila put her hands on her stinging bottom and rubbed it.
"With the prison doctor. And don't ask questions, you. Just do what you're told!" Mabel took Sheila by the arm and led her away.
They crossed the yard. Sheila saw Margie. The old con was white as a sheet, and shaking her head sadly. Sheila gave her a saucy wink as she passed by.
A barred gate opened, and Mabel put her broad hand on Sheila's back and pushed her inside. They were in the main building, a block-like fortress.
They went down the long concrete corridors toward the administrative section. The overhead fluorescent lights made Sheila's flesh look unhealthy.
This section of the passageway was empty. Mabel muttered under her breath, "Christ, Sheila! Of all the damned-fool ways to committ suicide, that takes the cake!"
"Ah, but what a sweet prize!" Like Mabel, Sheila spoke prison style, out of the corner of her mouth, barely moving her lips, in a whisper only they could hear.
Sheila said, "Did you see that Dolly?!" She licked her lips. "I've got to have her! She's too delicious for a pig like Carmen, anyway."
"Look, if you wanted her that badly, I could have arranged something private, a quiet little rendezvous for the two of you! But getting Carmen stirred up like that is like sticking your hand in a nest of rattlesnakes!"
Sheila said, "At the rate my appeal's going, I'm liable to be in here for a long time. And if I am, I don't intend to take a back seat to anybody!"
"That's something else that I have to tell you. It's bad news, Sheila."
"The appeal's been turned down?" She kept her voice expressionless.
Mabel held out her hand, and flashed the thumbs-down sign. "Forget it, honey. No way your lawyer can get you out of here. The deck's stacked against you. When you went after that boy with a hammer, you killed your chances of getting out of here! His people pull a lot of weight in this state, darling."
"That little prick was trying to strangle one of my girls," Sheila said. "If I hadn't conked him, he would have killed her for sure, the twisted bastard! Hell, he got over his injuries a lot quicker than Susie got over what he did to her!"
"Lucky for you he did, or you would have pulled ten-to-twenty," Mabel said. "Your lawyer passed me the word-forget it. Your last appeal is exhausted."
"Shit."
"Looks like you'll have to get out of here the hard way-by crashing out."
They reached the infirmary. A pair of matrons passed by, their phallic nightsticks, weighted with lead for hard-hitting power, dangling against their meaty thighs.
They said hello to Mabel, and she nodded in reply. She prodded Sheila with her nightstick to make it look good. The guards smiled with approval.
When they were out of earshot, Mabel whispered, "When do we leave?" .
"Soon," Sheila said. "I've still got some unfinished business to attend to."
They entered the infirmary. The smell of disinfectant was sharp in the air. The walls were painted a pale, puke green. There was a little desk and chair to one side, a large, reinforced metal cabinet with drugs, and an examining table.
Dr. Miles Severn was in his office. He was a pale, fussy, balding man in his middle forties. His watery brown eyes peered out from thick-lensed glasses. He wore a white lab coat and brown slacks. A stethoscope hung around his neck.
Sheila stood with her arms at her sides. Mabel said, "Here's Ryan, Doctor."
"Thank you, Creel." The doctor held a clipboard and a pencil.
Mabel said, "I've got some things to check up on in Cell Block 3, Doctor. It should take me about thirty minutes. Of course, I could stay and do it later."
"No, that won't be necessary, Creel. You go about your duties. I'll call you and tell you when I'm done examining Ryan. I won't have any trouble with her."
"Very good, Doctor." As she exited, Mabel flashed Sheila a wink that the doctor didn't see. Mabel stepped into the corridor, locking the door behind her.
"Please disrobe, Ryan." Severn set his clipboard down on his desk.
Sheila unbuttoned her blouse. "Of course, Doctor." She slipped it off. The bra she wore was too small for her, and her breasts had stretched it out of shape.
The doctor looked up as Sheila unhooked her bra and took it off. Her lush breasts popped free, jiggling as they came loose of their confining cups.
Her pink nipples were the size of grapes and were surrounded by wide roseates. Her white bosom flesh was smooth and soft as butter.
Sheila opened her denim pants, and let them fall down her hips to the floor. A pair of regulation white panties covered her hips. The panties were tight and lowcut, and her arched pubic mound could be seen outlined against the fabric.
Severn stared at her, his eyes bulging. His hands shook. He chewed his lip.
"How nice to see you again, Doctor." Her voice was soft and musical. She sat on the edge of the examining table, perching her bottom on its leather surface. Her long legs dangled over the edge, and she swung them back and forth teasingly.
The doctor was sweating. His glasses seemed to steam up. He crossed the room, then threw himself belly down on the floor at Sheila's bare feet.
Sheila smiled as she rubbed the soles of her feet against his face.
He gripped her feet, and covered them with hot, wet kisses. "Oh, Mistress Sheila! I've been in agony since I last worshipped you!"
CHAPTER TWO
"We must be very careful," Sheila smiled. "Very, very careful. We don't want anyone to guess about our little secret, do we, Doctor?"
Severn lay on his belly, raising himself up on his elbows. Sheila's bare feet dangled over his head. His saliva glistened on the soles and toes.
Severn groaned. "Mistress, you can't imagine what torture it is for me, knowing that you're only a building away, and that I can't see you!"
"Perhaps it is torture," she said. "But torture is good for little slave boys like you, who need to be taught a lesson. Who need to be punished by their mistress for their many sins. And you do need to be punished, don't you, slave?"
"God, yes!" His face was impassioned. He writhed on the floor.
Sheila said, "It's been hard for me, too. It isn't easy, trying to pretend that you mean nothing to me, that we're less than strangers. Do you think that I like having to stay so far apart from my favorite slave?"
He looked up. "Is that true, Mistress? Am I really your favorite slave?"
"Can you doubt it? If so, then you are calling your mistress a liar. And that's a very serious crime. I'll have to add it on to all the other sins for which you'll be punished." Sheila hopped off the examining table.
"You'll have to stand up, slave. At least, you'll have to stand up long enough for me to strip off your clothes. Then you can get back on your knees, where you belong."
The doctor rose up. His legs were shaking, and his knobby knees knocked loudly together. When he stood up, Sheila was several inches taller than he was.
She spread her feet shoulder width apart.
Beneath his white lab coat, Severn wore a brown-and-yellow tie and a white shirt. He blinked repeatedly.
"Yes, before you can confess your sins, you'll have to get naked," Sheila said. "Your body must be as naked to me as your soul already is."
She took off his stethoscope and pulled off his white lab coat. She put them on herself. The coat was small, too small for her voluptuous body.
She buttoned the middle buttons, so that most of her breasts were on display in the plunging neckline. Her bosom stretched the lab coat out of shape.
Her nipples stiffened, and were outlined against the starched white fabric. Her long white legs were exhibited from the middle of her thighs down, since that was how far the bottom of the coat reached on her body.
Sheila unknotted his tie and took it off. Her fingers nimbly unbuttoned his shirt. When it was open to his navel, she pulled the shirt tails out of his pants.
His body was soft, flabby, hairless. He shivered as Sheila ran her hands across his chest. "I've been waiting for you, my pet. Waiting for this moment."
She unbuckled his belt. She brushed his groin with her hip, and felt his member stiffen.
It moved in his pants as it lengthened and grew erect.
It became a throbbing erection. Sheila gripped it and gave it a squeeze. Severn gasped. He rose on his toes, and squeezed his plump thighs together.
Still holding his member, Sheila said, "My, my, what a naughty little slave boy you are! You've been away from your mistress for too long, and are sorely in need of some corrective discipline--discipline which I shall be only too happy to provide. Spare the rod and spoil the slave, I always say."
Sheila opened his pants. She pulled down the zipper, then tugged the pants down off his hips. They fell to the floor around his ankles, the coins and keys in his pockets jingling when his trousers struck the linoleum floor.
He wore a pair of woman's panties-pink satin panties with frilly lace ruffles around the waistband and the leg openings. His stiff member bulged in the crotch.
"Ah," Sheila said approvingly, "so you do obey your mistress after all! You're wearing the panties I commanded you to wear! I am pleased, slave."
"I'm so glad, mistress. I wouldn't have disobeyed you."
"But do you wear them every day, like I ordered, or do you only wear them on those days that you know that I'll be seeing you?"
"Oh, no, mistress, I wear them constantlywithout fail. Every morning, right before I go to work, I put them on in the bathroom."
"I'm glad. They're very pretty panties. It's a good start for you, slave. You look very pretty in them, but just think how pretty you'll look in a garter belt and a pair of stockings! Have you bought them yet, as I told you to do?"
"N-no, mistress, I haven't." His face reddened with shame. He whined, "I'm sorry, Mistress Sheila, but I just can't bring myself to do it! If you only knew what I went through to buy these panties! The salesgirl didn't say anything, but I could tell by the funny way she smiled at me, that she knew I was buying them for myself, and not for my wife, like I told her. I was so humiliated!"
"Good," Sheila said. "It's good for you to be humiliated. It reminds you of your slave status. And yes, I'm sure that the salesgirl knew you were buying those panties for yourself. They know all about naughty male slaves like you."
At Sheila's command, he pulled off his shoes and socks and stepped out of his trousers. Now he was nude, except for the pink satin panties.
He had a pot belly and a plump bottom. The panties were stretched tightly across the soft cheeks of his ass. His red cock head peeked over the waistband.
Sheila asked, "Have you been doing what I told you every night?"
"Every night without fail, Mistress Sheila," the doctor said solemnly.
"I should hope so! Tell your mistress how you play with yourself, and what you think about when you do it. And don't leave out any details, slave."
Severn cleared his throat. "Every night, after my wife has gone to bed, I lock myself in my private study. Then I unlock my safe and take out my most prized possession-the pair of your used panties that you gave me, my queen."
"The aroma, the perfume of my perfect pussy must be wearing off them by now, since you've had them for a while," Sheila said.
"I keep them sealed up in a plastic bag, to preserve your scent. I only take them out of it when I worship you every night, Mistress Sheila."
"If you please me today, slave, perhaps I'll let you have another pair soon."
"Would you?! Oh, that would be wonderful!" He did a little delighted dance.
Sheila took hold of his nipple and pinched it. Severn squirmed. The nipple reddened, and became stiff and erect. The slave male's cock twitched.
She said, "Don't get too carried away with yourself, slave!"
"I'm sorry, Mistress Sheila!" His eyes looked like those of a frog.
"Never mind," she sighed. "I'm not interested in the apologies or excuses of slaves. Continue telling me how you play with yourself."
Severn continued, "I unlock my safe, and I take the panties out of the plastic bag. I get on my knees and bow and worship them respectfully."
"Then, after I've rendered proper homage to the garment that's been in such close proximity to the softest, most intimate part of your perfect body, mistress, I take them out of the bag, and cover the panties with soft kisses."
As he spoke, fresh beads of oily sweat broke out on the doctor's forehead.
He licked his lips. "After that's done, I take the panties, and I put them on my head, just in the way that you told me to do, mistress. I arrange them so that the crotch covers my nose and mouth, and my eyes look out through the leg openings."
"Of course, except for your panties, I'm completely nude. And I'm always stiffly erect, even before I take the panties out of the plastic bag."
"Then, I take these other panties, the ones you ordered me to buy. I get down on my knees. My penis is so stiff that it sticks up, and it's sore with aching and with wanting you. Then I take the panties, and I wrap them around my penis."
"Then I play with myself. It feels so good, to have those soft panties rubbing against my penis! It's hard to keep myself from ejaculating prematurely!"
Sheila said, "And when you're playing with yourself, what do you think about?"
Severn's blush deepened and reddened. "Of you, Mistress Sheila. Only of you. I think of your perfect body, and how I'd love to be your panty-clad slave forever and always, and be forced to do whatever you command."
"And then?"
Severn stared at his feet. "And then I climax, Mistress Sheila. It doesn't take me long. Not when I'm thinking of you, of your perfection."
She patted his bottom through his panties. "That's very good. Really, if you do everything you say you do, without your mistress to be there to watch over you, then you have all the makings of a very fine slave!"
He blushed and haltingly thanked her for the compliment. She slipped her hand down the back of his panties, and fondled his naked bottom, kneading his buttocks.
He was gasping. His member was at its maximum state of erect tension.
Sheila said, "And when you go to bed with your wife, do you think of me?"
Severn stammered, "Er, uh, well, Mistress Sheila, if Gertrude and I had sexual relations, which we don't, I surely would think only of you!"
Sheila pulled her hand out of his panties. She placed her hands on her hips and stared down at him. He fidgeted under her gaze, then looked away.
"What?" she demanded. "I can't believe my ears! Did I hear you correctly, slave?! Did you just tell me that you don't make love to your wife?!"
"It's true, Mistress Sheila," he whimpered. "But it's not my fault! It's hers! She hasn't been interested in sex for years! And she's not like you, not sleek and soft and beautiful, but cold like ice at the same time! She's fat and sleepy and lazy!"
Sheila slapped his bare thigh. She didn't dare slap his face, since that might leave a mark, and cause questions to come up later from the observant prison staff.
She said, "If that isn't just like a miserable male slave! Blaming it on the woman! Really, I'm shocked! I thought that you had more respect for female supremacy than that! This is just outrageous!" Her bosom heaved with indignation.
Keeping her voice quietly modulated, so it wouldn't carry outside the office, Sheila gave Severn hell. Her voice dripped sarcastic venom.
He flinched under her verbal humiliation as though he was being physically struck. Sheila told him that a true slave must believe in the superiority of all women, and not just that of his mistress. If there was a problem in their sexual life, or no sexual life at all in their marriage, it wasn't his wife's fault. It was his! And he would have to take steps to pleasure his wife.
"Have you ever kissed her between the legs," Sheila asked, "like you do for me? No? Why not? Have you ever massaged her breasts, or licked her pussy for hours at a time? Well, you will from now on, slave! Or you won't serve me!"
She picked his tie off the examining table, and made a loop in it. "I'm really furious at you, slave. In fact, I'm so mad, I'm not sure that I even want to keep you in my service! I feel like you've been fooling me all along!"
Severn's eyes moistened, and tears threatened to spill out from them at any moment. His voice quavered as he begged Sheila to give him another chance.
"Maybe I will," she hissed, "but first, you'll have to be punished!"
She gripped his soft shoulders and spun him around. When his fleshy back was facing her, she twisted his arms behind his back, making him cry out.
Ignoring his squirm ings, she crossed his wrists and threw his looped tie over them, then pulled it tight, so that the necktie cut into his flesh.
Sheila knotted the tie around his wrists. Many times in the past, before she was confined to prison, she had used neckties as impromptu binders, when they're were no ropes easily available. Once again, it served her well.
When his hands were tightly tied, Sheila spun him around again. She said, "Get your ass up on that examining table, and I mean right now, slave!"
Severn struggled to mount the table. His task was made difficult, since his hands were tied behind his back. Sheila hooked her hands under his hands and lifted.
His feet rose off the floor. The weight training and scientific body-building Sheila had done since her confinement began had certainly paid off.
She had always been physically strong, but it seemed as though her power had more than doubled since she started lifting weights.
It was an exhilarating sensation, as intoxicating as a glass of champagne. Severn gasped as he felt the strength in her arms. His surprise delighted her.
She felt like some fabulously healthy female animal. Carmen and Althea, look out!
She forced the submissive medical man to lay down on his belly, stretched out across the black leather surface of the examining table.
His penis was stiffly erect. His genitals were pressed under his body.
Sheila picked up his trousers, and removed the belt from its loops. It was a thin brown leather belt, too light for real power, but it would have to do.
He turned his head to one side and looked up at her like a lovesick dog.
She said, "Knowing what a miserable, whining crybaby you are, I'll have to gag you!" She went to a medical equipment tray covered with utensils.
She took a handful of cotton balls, wadded them up, and stuffed them into his mouth, choking off his protests of sincere submissiveness.
She pasted two strips of white adhesive tape in an X-shape across his mouth.
"Now I'm ready to chastise you. Look at me, slave!"
He couldn't tear his eyes off her. She slowly unbuttoned the lab coat, and swept it back, baring her breasts. "You're not worthy of being gagged with my panties!"
She took hold of his panties and pulled them down off his bottom, baring it. The panties formed a pink roll of cloth at the tops of his pudgy thighs.
His buttocks were soft and plump. Sheila grinned wickedly. She gripped his ass cheeks, one in each hand, and dug her nails into them until he squirmed.
"Does that hurt, my little slave?" She put her face close to his. "This is only the beginning! Obviously I've failed to teach you the proper respect for womanhood! Perhaps after this session, you'll change your attitude!"
She released his ass cheeks. There were red marks in the soft white flesh.
She picked up his belt and doubled it in her hand, to increase its hitting power. Teasingly, tauntingly, she rubbed it against his bottom.
She raised her arm, raising and arching her breasts as she lifted the belt. Then she slammed the leather down on his bare buttocks.
The familiar sound of leather whipping soft flesh was a powerful erotic stimulant for her. Her nipples puckered, stiffened, and became erect.
She pressed her free arm against the small of his back, pinning him down to the table while she whipped his bottom. The belt rose and fell again and again.
Severn squirmed and groaned sickly. His white buttocks were soon marked with a pink blush. As the merciless belt continued to descend on them, the pink color deepened, and spread through his ass cheeks, which were now warm to the touch.
As she leaned over him, Sheila occasionally let her bare breasts rub against his naked back, so that her nipples grazed his sweating, heaving flesh.
Severn was excited. As he thrashed and writhed under the belt, he rubbed his hard cock against the leather covered table, heating up his penis.
Sheila felt good, she felt fine. It felt sweet to make a slave suffer by her hands, especially when that slave was part of the power structure of the prison.
How lucky for her that Dr. Severn had submissive tendencies! He knew who she was, even before they met. He was a closet slave who had seen her picture, and accounts of her dominant exploits, in some of the various underground S/M publications.
That had been before the arrest, of course. The arrest was a mess. Sheila had been running a house of dominance at the time.
The focus was on male submission to the dominant female, but there had been slave girls for those who needed a lovely young sex slave to bind and punish and fuck.
Only one of her customers had been a little too kinky. He was a young son of a bitch, the arrogant pup of a wealthy and influential family.
He had been in a room with one of her slave girls when something snapped inside his head. The girl had been bound and gagged. Instead of fucking her, he tried to strangle her. It was sheer luck that Sheila happened to be passing by at the time.
He was murderously insane, and the only way she had been able to cool him out was to hit him on the head with a hammer. She hit him a little too hard.
He didn't die, but he had been in critical condition for some weeks. Of course, there was no way for her to keep the law out of it then.
His family had a lot of pull in this state, and they were determined to see that she went to jail. Her trial was a farce, and she was railroaded.
She would probably have pulled a much longer term, but the young man's family wanted to hush up the sado-masochistic angles of his involvement.
Sheila made an agreement to keep her mouth shut in exchange for a lighter sentence. Once she was inside, she knew what a big mistake she had made.
Luckily there had been Dr. Severn to make things easier. He recognized her at once, and during her first physical examinination of her, he tremblingly confessed his slave status, and literally threw himself at her feet.
Sine then, he had found many occasions to call her into the infirmary for a private examination. When they were behind closed doors, he was the slave and she was the master. It felt like old times to Sheila.
When she had been inside the prison for a week, she knew that there was no way she would ever finish out her sentence. She had to get out of there, via legal means, if possible, or any other means that might work. She had a few plans of her own.
She stopped whipping Severn. Her arm was sore. His ass was dark red, with a deep purple center. Tiny droplets of blood oozed from the battered flesh.
Severn groaned dully from behind the gag. His face was dripping with sweat, and he looked as though someone had thrown a pail of water over him.
There was a wetness in Sheila's pussy, but it wasn't sweat-it was the juices of arousal. As always, wielding the whip made her sexually stimulated.
She slipped her fingers in her panties and fondled her pussy. It felt good. But why should she put herself to all that effort, when she had a slave ready to serve?
She tossed aside the belt. "That's all for now, slave. God knows you deserve more, but you're so lowly, you're not even worth the trouble of disciplining."
He whimpered as she moved him off the table and on his feet. His stiff penis jutted out in front of him. Semen glistened on the fleshy cock head.
"Some punishment!" Sheila shook her head. "That beating was for your correction, not for your pleasure. But it's my pleasure we're concerned with now!"
Sheila and Severn stood face to face. Severn was sweating and hunched forward. She took hold of his cock, and dug her nails into the shaft.
"Ah, you can feel that, can't you?" she asked. "That's a bit different from the way you play with yourself. Remember, Mistress Sheila never plays."
She scraped up an edge of one of the pieces of tape covering his mouth, and gripped it between her nails. There was a tearing sound as she ripped it off.
The doctor's body shook with pain and fright. Sheila felt warm in her pussy. She did the same thing with the other piece of tape, yanking the sticky side clear of his flesh with one wrenching pull. It sounded like a piece of paper tearing.
She reached into his mouth and pulled out the wadded cotton balls. They were saturated and dripping with saliva. She held them away from her at arm's length.
"Disgusting." Her nostrils wrinkled with distaste. "What I ought to do is shove them up your ass. But you'd probably like that, so I won t.
He started to mumble some words of humility and submissiveness. She cut him off by raking her nails along his cock. "Shut up!" . she snarled.
She gripped a handful of his thinning hair. It was slick with hair oil. She jerked his head forward so that it was on a level with her breasts.
His eyes bulged as he stared at them. She said, "Go ahead, look at them all you like. They are beautiful. Sometimes, when my slaves are very good, and I'm feeling benevolent, I let them suck and kiss my tits for hours. I know you'd like to do that. Well, forget it! Not that I don't sometimes feel kindly toward you. For all your hopeless incompetence, I know that you do the best you can to be a good slave. It's just that your best is really none too good. But you get good marks for effort."
She patted his bottom to indicate the kind of "marks" she meant. His flesh was hot to the touch where she had whipped him. He squirmed under her handling.
"Tell you what I'm going to do, slave. I'm going to give you a chance to redeem yourself in my good graces. I'm going to test your oral skills, or the lack of them."
She rubbed her pussy through her panties. His eyes hotly followed the stroking movements of her fingers. She rubbed her labia and squeezed her thighs.
"No, slave, you may not have this pair of panties after all. I was thinking of giving them to you, but your poor attitude has made me decide against that."
"However, you cringing worm, I will permit you to take my panties down for me. However, these panties are too good to be contaminated by your vile touch."
"You will not be permitted to put your hands on the panties, or on any other part of my flesh. You will have to remove them using only your mouth."
"It's a simple enough task, and if you can't do even that properly, there won't be any point in our continuing today. If you can manage to do that, I might-just might, mind you-permit you to use your mouth on other places."
She put her hand on his sloping, round shoulder and pushed downward. His knees flexed, and he creakily bent his legs and knelt on the floor.
Now his head was on a level with her pussy. She put her hand on the back of his head, and pulled his face against her panty covered pubis.
"Go ahead, slave, take down those panties, if you can."
His sweating face left smears on her ivory thighs. She sniffed distastefully at them. Severn extended his tongue as far as he could.
Like a questing pink slug, the tongue crept across her soft thighs.
The tongue tip slipped under the elasticized waistband of her panties. The doctor strained to pull a fragment of cloth loose from her fragrant flesh.
Finally, after much delicate work with his lips and tongue, and much sweating and straining, he managed to get a fold of her panties between his teeth.
As he lowered his head, the panties slid down off her hips. Her bush peeked over the waistband, then her entire pussy came into view as the panties descended.
Her bush was chestnut brown in color, darker than the light brown of her close-cropped hair. She was very heavily and thickly bushed.
Her pink pussy lips were soft and fleshy and perfectly shaped. Severn paused in his efforts, and stared hungrily at her pussy, his nose all but touching it.
"Down, slave." She put her hand on the back of his greasy head and pushed. He pulled the panties down off her smooth thighs and shapely calves.
In order to get the panties all the way down, he had to press his forehead to the cool linoleum tiles of the floor, the panties still clutched in his teeth.
Before he could raise his head, Sheila put her foot on the back of his neck, and held him there, like an ancient conqueror subjugating a lowly slave.
After a moment, she took her foot off, and lightly stepped out of the panties with a little laugh. "Not bad after all, slave. Maybe there's hope for you yet."
She turned around, presenting her back to him. She had a perfect ass, heart-shaped and dimpled, with smooth rounded cheeks. Her training with lifting weights had removed some of the softness of the flesh, and muscles rippled beneath her flawless skin.
"You're too much of a pig to serve my pussy today," she said, "or my ass, either, as a matter-of-fact. But I'm feeling charitable today, and my . bottom could use a good tongue cleaning."
Severn knelt with his head facing her bottom. She spread her legs, and looked down at him over her shoulder. She put her hands on her buttocks.
The smooth skin rippled under her fingers. She pulled her buttocks to the sides, spreading them wide open, exposing her dark crack and her puckered anus.
Severn's jaw dropped, and his mouth watered. Sheila pulled his face between her ass cheeks. The slave doctor gave a choking sob of desire which was muffled by her flesh. His nose bumped her anus. He pressed his lips against it and kissed it wetly.
Sheila leaned forward from the waist. She rested her palms on the examining table for support. Her movement thrust her ass even closer against his face.
He stuck out his tongue, and -rimmed a circle of saliva around the wrinkled brown ring of her tiny hole. Then he thrust his tongue inside the hole.
Sheila fondled her pussy while he licked her ass. His tongue was like a tiny penis, thrusting back and forth, in and out of her tight, hot bottom.
Her pussy dripped with moisture. The juices smeared her fingers as they parted her pussy lips and rubbed against the seashell-pink membranes within.
Her finger moved up the slit and pressed her clitoris. It was a pearl of pink, throbbing flesh. She stroked it harder and faster with each second.
Her nipples were stiff, pulsing. She raised her left hand, and pinched her nipples. Her hips rocked back and forth from the dual stimulation of his tongue in her bottom, and her fingers in her pussy. Sweat rose up on her flesh.
Her fingers against her clitoris made her come. It was hot, hard, fast, and intense. The climax was as fierce as a knife in the belly.
She sagged forward, her breasts heaving as she panted for breath.
"That's enough, slave." Her voice was hoarse and husky. "Get your tongue out of my hole, and your face out of my ass. Funtime is over."
"I have to rest and catch my breath," she said. She hopped on the table and lay there on her back, her arms behind her head. She stared at the ceiling.
There was a warm, electric feeling in her pussy. Her breasts trembled softly as her rapid breathing slowed to a more normal rate.
The glow soon left her, and once more she became all business.
She sat up. Her saliva covered bottom rubbed against the leather covered table. She let her long legs dangle off its edge, and closed her thighs.
Severn knelt where she had left him. His face was shiny with saliva, and red with delighted humiliation. His cock was hard and jutted from his plump hips.
"For your failure to respect women, especially your own wife, I'm not going to permit you to come today," Sheila announced. "You may dress me now, slave."
The doctor groaned, but didn't dare to protest. Sheila hopped off the table. He held her panties for her, and she stepped into them. He pulled them up.
Garment by garment, her body was once more recovered and hidden from his view.
Her white breasts and pink nipples were safely tucked into her bra. Her wide hips and long legs were masked by the shapeless denim trousers.
She buttoned her shirt and tucked it in her pants. "I suppose you better get dressed too, slave. It wouldn't do for the matrons to see you like this."
She pulled his pink satin panties up over his bulging cock. The shining pink crotch of the panties was stretched out of shape by his furious erection. Water gurgled in the stainless steel sink as Severn washed and cleaned himself up.
Even after the doctor was finally cleaned and dressed, his hard member still bulged in his trousers. Sheila called him to her.
She said, "Here's my command for the rest of the day, slave. You are hereby forbidden to touch yourself below the waist unless you have to go to the bathroom. There will be no self-abuse to make yourself come and release the tension."
She smiled wickedly. "I don't want you to release the tension. It will make you think of me, your mistress. And I have one further command, slave of mine."
"Here's where we'll really test your submissiveness. Tonight, when you're lying in bed alongside your sleeping wife in bed, I want you to crawl down beneath the covers. I want you to nuzzle your face right between her big fat thighs, and press your mouth agasint her pussy, and lick and tongue her until she wakes up."
Severn said, "But, Mistress Sheila-not my wife-please, no!"
"Shut up, slave! If I've allowed you to put your lowly mouth on my perfect pussy, then surely you owe your own wife no less. Here's my command-until you've eaten your wife's pussy, and made her come with your mouth, you will not be permitted to come yourself! And don't you dare try lying to me about it, by saying that you did it when you really didn't! I can see through a slave's lies in a second!"
Severn swallowed hard. "Yes, Mistress Sheila. I'll-I'll try to do it."
"Don't just try it-do it! Do it, that is, if you want to come yourself!"
Sheila held out her hand. "And now, I will accept the meager tribute you have for me." This always concluded her sessions with the doctor.
Severn's tribute and token of sincerity included a vial of pills and one hundred dollars, in ten dollar bills. Sheila was then delivered to Mabel, the prison guard, and returned to her cell block.
CHAPTER THREE
Carmen slapped Dolly. Dolly yelped like a puppy whose tail has been stepped on.
Althea lay in the top bunk. She and Carmen shared a cell, and Carmen kept Dolly in it. Carmen didn't like to let Dolly out of her sight.
Dolly fell backward. She sat down hard on her bottom, her legs sprawling. She pressed her hand to the red mark on her cheek where Carmen had struck her.
Althea lay on her side, with her big round head propped up on her hand. She looked bored. Her eyes flickered with mild interest at the violence.
Dolly screamed, "Carmen, no! Please! I didn't do anything! I didn't!"
Carmen loomed over her, her big hands raised and ready to hit again. Dolly cowered, backing into the corner. Carmen's eyes looked crazier than ever.
She grabbed a fistful of Dolly's blonde hair and twisted it by the roots. The girl's child-like face contorted with pain. Tears spilled from her frightened eyes.
Carmen hissed, "You're such a pretty little fucking cunt, aren't you?! You draw 'em like flies to honey! They all want a piece of your pussy!"
Dolly was hysterical. "Carmen, I swear I didn't do anything! You were right there, you saw it all! I don't even know Sheila, I swear to God!"
"Sure-but you know her name, don't you! How come you know her name? By Christ, I'll kill you before I'll let anybody else have you!"
It was night, after lights out, and the prisoners in the cell block were all locked into their cells. Since this was an area where some of the more violent inmates were confined, the guards tried to avoid it as much as possible.
Carmen pulled a shiv out of her pocket. It was a round wooden knob, the size and shape of a door knob, with a six-inch spindle point jutting from it. It was needle sharp, like an ice pick. She pressed the point just below Dolly's eye.
"Maybe I'll fix you so that you'll never look at anybody else ever again!" Carmen shrieked crazily. "Maybe I'll just pop them eyes like grapes!"
Althea's hooded eyes widened with interest. She leaned over on her bunk and looked down to see if Carmen would carry out her threat.
Dolly tried to speak, to plead, but fear choked her words, so that she could only gurgle sickly. Her eyes were wide as saucers.
Carmen moved the point of her weapon dbwn Dolly's face. She let the tip press against the flesh just lightly enough to avoid leaving a mark.
She said, "Or maybe I'll fix that pretty face of yours so that nobody will ever want to look at it again! I'll shred it like hamburger!"
Dolly screamed. A few cells down the row, a tired female con shouted, "Hey, asshole, cut the fucking noise! We want to get some sleep!"
Carmen released Dolly and ran to the door of the cell. Gripping the bars, she screamed, "I know who said that! You motherfucker! I won't forget!"
Dolly was weeping. Carmen rattled the bars of her cage for another moment. When the other inmate remained silent, Carmen smiled with satisfaction.
"Fucking motherfuckers." She turned and went to her bunk. "I guess they know who the boss of this cell block is, right?" She lifted her mattress.
"Fucking A." Althea sat up and swung her massive legs over the edge of the bunk. She was naked from the waist up, and her massive brown breasts heaved.
Carmen pulled a fifteen inch length of rubber hose out from under her thin mattress. Dolly huddled in the corner, shivering, hugging herself.
Carmen tapped the rubber hose against her thigh. Dolly whimpered when she saw it. Carmen smiled at this evidence of Dolly's fear and subjugation.
She said, "You been a bad bitch, baby. Now momma is gonna have to spank you."
"Carmen, I didn't do anything!" Dolly babbled. "I didn't do anything, I didn't say anything! I don't know why she came over to me! I'm faithful to you!"
"I'm gonna keep you faithful to me, slut! I'm gonna give you a little taste of what could happen if you're ever crazy enough to cheat on Carmen!"
The upper bunk shook as Althea climbed down from it and stood at Carmen's side.
Dolly shrieked as the two big women clustered around her. Althea clapped a huge, bear-like hand over the girl's mouth, silencing her screams.
Althea lifted Dolly like she was a child, holding her so that the girl's small feet dangled and kicked in the air. She carried her to the lower bunk.
As she held Dolly, Althea opened her britches and let them drop around her ankles. She stepped out of them. She wore white men's boxer shorts on her huge hips.
Carmen came up behind her. She took hold of the waistband of Althea's shorts and pulled them down, too. The hulking brown giant's buttocks were each as wide in diameter as a serving dish. Her wrists were as thick as a strong man's ankles.
Althea's flesh was the color of dark chocolate. Her bush was like a tropical jungle. It was a thick, humid, bristling mat of jet-black curls, tightly knitted.
Her pussy lips were so dark and brown that they were almost purple. Her thighs were columns of flesh, and her nipples, now becoming erect, were big as thumbs.
The supports holding up the lower bunk groaned when Althea sat down on them. She pulled Dolly's slender form across her hot, huge lap.
She moved Dolly so that the girl lay face down. Dolly's breasts pressed against Althea's bare thighs. Althea still held her hand covering the girl's mouth.
Carmen took off her shirt and pants. Her breasts were surprisingly lush. They were high and pear shaped and uptilted, with soft pinkish brown nipples.
As she took off her shirt, her nipples puckered and stiffened to full erection. They were unusually long. Her brown nipples were round and neatly circular.
Her pants rustled down her muscular legs as she let them fall. She wasn't wearing panties. Her hips were lean, with prominent pelvic bones.
Her ass was plump, and contrasted with her legs, which were long and straight and layered with slabs of muscle. Her dark bush was neatly trimmmed at its edges.
Her discarded clothes lay in a heap on the cool concrete floor. "Gonna give you an ass whipping that you won't soon forget, slut!"
She reached under Dolly and opened her pants and pulled her pants and panties down. Dolly didn't wear the regulation panties issued to the inmates.
She wore a special pair of frilly white lace panties which Carmen had bribed a guard to buy for her. Carmen had extorted the money from other, fearful inmates.
She jeerked the garments down off Dolly's legs, baring the girl's body from the waist down. Dolly had a softly curved rump. Her flesh was as white as milk and as smooth as butter. Her ass had a split pair of cupcake buns.
Carmen raised the rubber hose and savagely whipped Dolly's ass with it. Dolly jerked with agony, but the powerful Althea was easily able to hold her in place and stifle her screams.
Carmen struck again. The flexible rubber hose seemed to curl almost caressingly around the girl's quivering bottom cheeks. It slashed a red line into soft flesh.
The rubber hose whipped Dolly's ass ten more times. Carmen was angry and wanted to put the fear of her deep into the girl, but she wasn't so angry that she would do any lasting damage to one of the prettiest little asses in the prison.
When Carmen halted, Dolly's quivering bottom was criss-crossed by long, ugly welted lines. The girl jerked and thrashed even after the hose stopped hitting her.
"That's only a sample," Carmen promised. "Only a sample of what you got coming to you if you ever cheat on me, you soft little piece of shit!"
Carmen tossed the rubber hose aside. Dolly lay sobbing on Althea's lap. Althea's broad moon face was as impassive as a carved totem.
But the big woman's body betrayed her excitement at the sadistic punishment session. Her nipples throbbed and jutted out from the mounds of her breasts.
Carmen knelt in a corner of her cell. She worked loose a concrete block. This was her hiding place for contraband. She had used a spoon stolen from the prison mess hall and laboriously chiseled loose the block to create this hiding place.
Stone scraped on stone as she pulled the block loose from the rest of the wall. A black square hole gaped in it like a space in a row of teeth.
Carmen reached inside and took something out. It was a package wrapped in a piece of cloth. The package had the size and shape of a lead pipe about eight inches long.
Carmen said, "Get the little cunt hot and wet for me, Althea. We're both gonna fuck her good tonight!" She unwrapped the cloth from her mysterious package.
Althea parted the girl's thighs and rubbed her pink pussy with her brown fingers.
Dolly had thrashed and struggled during the whipping. The buttons of her thin denim blouse had popped open, and her shirt had ripped, baring her breasts.
They were small, soft, tender mounds of flesh which rose gently from her thin torso. Her small breasts made her look like a girl who only recently reached puberty.
Her face was wet with tears. Althea removed her hand from Dolly's mouth. The girl's breasts jiggled as she drew a shuddering, sobbing breath.
Althea held Dolly's smooth thighs open. Her fingers roughly stroked the soft, pink pussy lips, which rippled and quivered at her touch.
Althea slipped her middle finger between Dolly's labia. The pussy lips were thin and delicate. They folded in on themselves as the intruder entered her.
Sleek pink pussy flesh was exposed as Althea thrust her middle finger into the girl. Dolly's sobs were replaced by a deep moaning grunt as the finger penetrated her.
Carmen opened the package. Inside it was her prized possession-a genuine dildo. She had had to shake down and terrorize many inmates to raise enough funds to buy it. It was long and thick and black, and made of a flexible plastic which felt startlingly like real flesh. It was streamlined, with a bullet shaped head and a long, thick shaft. Leather straps dangled from its base.
Carmen strapped the dildo on her hips. The thin leather straps cut into her flesh. She looked like some bizarre creature, with that masculine member jutting out of her wide, womanly hips, and her heavy breasts dangling above it.
Althea took her finger out of Dolly's pussy. Juices coated the finger. Althea held it under her nostrils, and sniffed it like she was savoring the delicate aroma of perfume or of a bouquet of scented flowers.
. Her thick lips quirked upward in a smile, showing white teeth. She stuck the finger in her mouth and sucked Dolly's juices off it.
Carmen took hold of Dolly's mattress and pulled it off the girl's bunk. She moved carefully, so as not to catch her dildo and break the straps.
She threw the mattress on the cell's floor. "Bring her here, Althea."
Althea lifted the girl off her lap and set her down on her feet, standing up. Dolly's knees were weak, and she looked as though she might collapse.
Althea rose ponderously, like a hippo rising out of a pond. Her fleshy masses jiggled and rippled. She rested one massive arm on Dolly's thin shoulders.
She turned the girl around so that she faced Carmen. Carmen stood with her legs spread, her hands on her hips, and the dildo jutting from between her legs.
Dolly's face was ghostly white. Her large, fearful blue eyes were like patches of blue sky peeking through a white cloud mass.
She whimpered, "Don't hurt me, Carmen. Please. I love you, Carmen."
"Don't talk to me about love, cunt! I don't give a damn whether you love me or hate my fucking guts! It doesn't matter! All that matters is that you belong to me! Your ass is mine! You can't leave me and live, you silly little slut!"
Althea said mildly, "You can lecture her some other time, Carmen. Me, I'm getting awful horny. Let's do something about that." She fondled her pussy.
"Sure thing, baybee." Carmen smiled thinly. "Just lie down, and we'll put this bitch to work doing what she was born to do!"
Althea released Dolly. She lay on her back on the mattress. She spread her thick legs wide open, exposing her thick-lipped pussy.
She rubbed her pussy lips. "Come and get it, honey," she said to Dolly.
Carmen grabbed Dolly's shoulder. Dolly gasped and raised her hands to protect her face, thinking that Carmen meant to strike her.
Carmen loved the girl's fear. "You're scared of Carmen now, hugh? Good. That's smart. Now get your face between Althea's legs, you fucking slut!"
Carmen gave her a push which nearly knocked her off balance. Dolly knelt down on the mattress between Althea's stout legs. Althea grinned hugely.
Dolly rested her small hands on Althea's massive thighs. She choked back a sob and lowered her face down to the pussy below her.
Tears glistened on Dolly's face. She puckered her soft pink lips, and pressed them against Althea's pussy lips. She planted wet kisses on the soft flesh.
Carmen kicked the girl's whipped rump. "Get your ass up, cunt! And spread your legs so I can get to that good thing between them!"
Dolly moved her knees farther apart on the mattress, spreading her thighs and opening her pussy to Carmen. The brown-bushed, thin-lipped pink pussy could be seen below the soft globes of her buttocks, which were striped with red and purple welts.
Althea reached up and put her hand on the back of Dolly's head and pushed the girl's face deep into her pussy. The thick labia spread, and Dolly's face rubbed against dripping pink pussy membranes. Juices smeared all over her.
Carmen knelt behind Dolly. Dolly's bottom was raised high, while her mouth was clamped on Althea's oversized, quivering pussy.
Carmen said, "I'm going to give you a real fucking! I'm going to split you down the middle!" Gripping the dildo, she poked Dolly's pussy with it.
Dolly lifted her head. "Carmen, please make it wet before you stick it in me!"
The girl's whimpering plea was stifled as Althea pressed her face back against her pussy and held it there so she couldn't raise it up.
Carmen hooked her left arm under Dolly's waist and held her squirming hips in place. With her other hand, she stuffed the dildo head in Dolly's pussy.
Dolly was small and tight in her pussy, and the dildo was thick and long. Her muffled gasps rose in volume as Carmen forced the dildo deeper into her.
Dolly was dry, and Carmen had to struggle to penetrate. After she got the first three or four inches of the shaft in the girl, she had to halt until Dolly's pussy lubricated so she could thrust deeper into her.
Carmen reached around Dolly's hips and roughly rubbed her clitoris. The dildo was in deep enough so she didn't have to worry about it being dislodged.
Slowly, Dolly's pussy moistened, not from desire, but rather to accommodate the stiff intruder within it. Carmen shoved her hips forward, thrusting the dildo.
Now, Dolly was wet enough so that Carmen could work up some good in-and-out motion. The girl's frantic struggles lessened as her pussy got wetter.
The dildo slid in and out of her. When the shaft emerged from between her labia, her juices glistened on it. Carmen relaxed her grip somewhat.
Carmen's buttocks were tightly clenched as she rocked her hips back and forth. "You're mine, mine, mine! I'll kill you before I let you go!"
Carmen and Althea used and abused Dolly from both ends. Althea's pussy juices were thick and heavy, and coated Dolly's long, pointed tongue.
Carmen thrust the dildo deep into Dolly now, with hard, surging strokes.
Pussy juices were smeared on Dolly's face from her hairline to the tip of her chin. Her jaws and tongue ached from servicing Althea's pussy.
Althea was as hot as a furnace between her legs. She was humid, and her pussy gave off a thick, pungent, musky odor which filled Dolly's nostrils and lungs.
Dolly pressed the tip of her tongue against Althea's clitoris. It was like a marble of flesh, fat and oily and throbbing.
It was hard for Dolly to concentrate on tonguing the clitoris while she was being raped so roughly from behind. Only the fact that her pussy had finally lubricated made her able to bear the brutal double rape of her slit and her mouth.
After Dolly's tongue finally brought Althea to orgasm, the big woman's flesh rippled and shook. Althea cupped her heavy breasts and pinched her nipples.
Carmen pulled the dildo out of Dolly. She unstrapped it and took it off. Althea clumsily rose to her feet and Carmen handed her the dildo.
Althea put on the dildo, and Carmen lay on her back on the now sweat-soaked mattress. Carmen rubbed her pussy and spread her long, strong legs.
Dolly once more took her position. Carmen pushed the girl's hair aside, gripped her ears like handdles, and pulled her sex slave's face down into her pussy.
Althea got on the mattress and shoved the dildo into Dolly's pussy.
Carmen and Althea spent the majority of the night abusing Dolly, and forcing her to serve them. The girl was commanded to give both of them tongue baths, and to lick and kiss their bottoms and pussies for long periods of time.
The next morning, when the earsplitting wake-up bells rang through the cell block, Dolly was weak and pale and trembling.
Carmen and Althea were tired from lack of sleep, but otherwise they felt fine and satisfied. The trio joined the rest of the inmates and trooped off to the mess hall.
On the chow line, Carmen passed by Sheila. "Hello, dead meat."
Sheila smiled. "Enjoy your little girlfriend while you can, Carmen. I'm going to be taking her from you real soon. Ummmm, I can't wait!" She smacked her lips.
Carmen stiffened, her eyes blazing like a tiger's. Althea, seeing a guard peering suspiciously at them, grabbed Carmen's arm and held her back.
"Take it easy," Althea advised. "We'll fix her wagon soon enough."
But Althea was never to see Sheila get her wagon fixed.
The prison board later ruled that it was a tragic accident. Althea was working at her job in the prison laundry, at the laundry sorting machine.
This was a complicated mechanical contraption which plucked the batches of wet laundry from the vats, and passed it through a series of spindles and gears.
Some of the gears were as large as truck tire wheels, and working around them called for a great deal of caution. Apparently, Althea was careless.
She fell into the machinery. At least, that was the final ruling of the prison's accident investigation board, which was headed by Warden Ellen Willis.
One of the guards mentioned that there was bad blood between Althea and Sheila, and the warden investigated the possibility that Althea might have been pushed into the body-shredding gears, rather than slipping into them accidentally.
However, her investigation cleared Sheila. She discovered that Sheila had a perfect alibi. At the time of the accident, Sheila had been far away from the prison laundry, and so couldn't have committed the crime.
Sheila had an excellent witness who testified that she couldn't have been at the laundry at the time of Althea's horrible, mutilating death.
The witness was Matron Mabel Creel, a recently hired guard who had already made quite a reputation for herself with guards and inmates alike.
So, the warden ruled officially that Althea's death was a tragic mishap.
The prison laundry was closed for the rest of the day, so what was left of Althea could be scraped off the gears and put in bags.
Carmen was in trouble. The combination of her and Althea was a formidable one, and few of the inmates dared to defy the two of them together.
Without Althea, it was as though Carmen's right arm had been chopped off. Carmen was never without a shiv now, and didn't dare let down her guard for a second.
The tension was getting to Carmen. She became more moody and freaked out by the day. Some of the more daring inmates now openly winked and flirted with Dolly.
Sheila just smiled to herself and bided her time.
Then, one night after lights-out, Matron Mabel Creel came to Sheila's cell block. The guard in charge asked what Mabel wanted.
Mabel said, "The warden wants to see Ryan in her office right now."
"Yeah? What's up?"
Mabel shrugged, laughing. "Honey, the warden don't tell me nothing! All I know is that I've got an authorization to bring Sheila Ryan to her right now."
"Jeeze, the warden's working late tonight."
The guard looked at the form which Mabel handed her. "Hey, this isn't the right form-" She was silenced by Mabel's nightstick hitting her head.
CHAPTER FOUR
Carmen sat in her bunk, holding Dolly in her lap. Carmen was sullen and brooding. She wore her tailored denim shirt and pants. Her feet were bare.
Dolly only wore her panties. She was sullen, too. Now that Althea was gone, Dolly, like the other inmates, could sense the cracks in Carmen's armor.
Carmen roughly fondled the girl's breasts.
Her nails pinched the pink nipples erect. She twisted them until Dolly was breathless and squirming.
Dolly moaned. Carmen laughed. She put her hand into Dolly's panties. She pulled the tight brown pubic curls, yanking them by the roots until tears came to the girl's eyes. She gripped a fold of pussy flesh in her fingers and stretched it.
Far down the cell block corridor, the mechanized gates swung open. Heavy footsteps padded closer and closer, until a hulking shadow fell across the bars of Carmen's cell.
It was Mabel Creel. She rattled her nightstick across the bars. "Fun and games are over, Carmen. Get your hands out of her panties, and put your shoes and socks on. You're going on a little walk. Quit stalling and get moving."
"Where the fuck are we going?" Carmen didn't move an inch.
"The warden wants to have a little chat with you. Now, move."
"What the fuck does she want to see me so late for?"
"Maybe she wants you to tuck her into bed," Mabel said. "Don't give me any of your shit. And your little girlfriend better put on some clothes, too. The warden wants to see the both of you. Get your ass in gear."
Dolly hopped up off Carmen's lap and started dressing.
Carmen put on her shoes and socks. Dolly didn't bother to put on a bra. She dressed quickly, while Carmen lingered, taking her time.
There was a rattle of keys as Mabel unlocked the cell door. Carmen sat on her bunk, tieing the laces of her shoes. Mabel entered the cell.
The big guard grabbed Carmen by the arm and jerked her to her feet. "I've had enough of your stalling. Put your hands behind your back, bitch!"
"What the fuck for?!"
Mabel sneered, "You're such a tough character, the warden doesn't want you going around without handcuffs. I told her I could handle a lightweight like you, but the warden insisted." Mabel took a pair of handcuffs off her belt.
Carmen struggled. "You ain't chaining me up, motherfucker!"
Mabel sighed. It sounded like a whale clearing its spout. Her voice was ominously calm as she began, "You're starting to wear my patience thin, Carmen."
Suddenly, her fist thudded into Carmen's belly. Carmen grunted and doubled over. Mabel grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back, shoving the hand up between the shoulder blades. Carmen's face whitened. She moaned with pain.
She rose on her toes to minimize the aching pain in her shoulder blades. Mabel grabbed her other hand, and brought it behind Carmen's back, too.
Dolly cowered in the far corner of the cell. Her eyes glittered as she watched Mabel manhandle Carmen. Carmen was big, but Mabel made her look like a kid.
Mabel clapped the cuffs on Carmen's wrists. She locked them tightly, so the steel bracelets dug deep into the flesh. Carmen cursed and struggled.
"I've had all I'm going to take of your shit," Mabel told Carmen.
Mabel thrust her hand in Carmen's pocket. The hand was too big for the pants pocket, and tore it open. Mabel pulled the shiv out of it.
She pushed Carmen away from her. Carmen was thrown across the cell, her shoulder slamming into the cell bars with such force that she almost fell down.
The vicious needle point of the shiv glinted as Mabel held it up to the light. "Cute. Real cute. I bet the warden is going to think it's real cute, too."
"Fuck you and the fucking warden, you fat--"
Mabel grinned as she pocketed the deadly weapon. "Keep talking, Carmen. Keep it up. You and me are going to have a nice little session one of these days."
"If I wasn't chained up, I'd-"
"You'd piss your pants," Mabel finished the sentence for her. "Because then you'd have to do something for real, instead of mouthing off."
Dolly giggled. It was a nervous reaction to all the tension of days since Althea's grotesque death. It rasped Carmen's nerves like sandpaper.
Carmen glared at Dolly. Realizing what she had done, Dolly gasped, and clapped both hands to her mouth, as though to keep it covered to avoid any more dangerous losses of control. Carmen's lips drew back as she snarled murderously.
"I'll remember that, you treacherous little cunt! Just wait until I get you alone later!" She whirled on Mabel. "And I'll settle with you, too!"
Mabel whacked the nightstick across Carmen's rump. It sounded with a whack like a dusty carpet being beaten. The force sent Carmen flying out the open cell door.
The cell block echoed with the raucous laughter and taunts of the inmates who had listened with delight as Mabel roughed up Carmen.
"Come on, honey," Mabel said to Dolly. "Time's a-wasting."
"Oh, I wish you hadn't done that," Dolly fretted. "She'll only take it out on me later!"
"Don't be too sure of that, sweeets," Mabel grinned. "You might be surprised."
Mabel and Dolly stepped out into the corridor. Carmen whirled around, spitting curses at the inmates who mocked her and spit at her.
"You motherfuckers!" Carmen screamed. "Go ahead and laugh while you can! I'll remember all of you later! Then we'll see who'll be laughing then!"
"Aw, fuck you!" somebody shouted from a cell on the upper tier.
"Yeah, Carmen!" somebody else chimed in. "Remember what happened to Althea!"
Mabel cut short Carmen's howling by propelling her forward with a well aimed kick to the seat of her pants. Carmen shot forward, down the corridor.
The inmates cheered and applauded, and shouted for Mabel to kick her again.
The trio went down to the gate. Normally, it would be shut, with another guard on the outside waiting for the signal to open it. This time, the guard was gone.
The small group made their way through the darkened corridors to the administrative section. The warden's private office was down the hall from the infirmary.
The door was shut, but a light shone through its window. Mabel hustled Carmen into the front office, which was a kind of reception area.
The receptionist was off duty at this late hour, so the outer office was empty. Dolly docilely trotted in behind Mabel and the spitting, struggling Carmen.
Mabel grabbed a handful of Carmen's blouse. Buttons popped and cloth tore, exposing her breasts. Mabel slammed Carmen into the wall a few times to quiet her down.
She pressed her massive forearm against Carmen's throat. Carmen choked. Her face reddened, and her eyes bulged. She made choking, strangled noises.
Mabel said, "The warden isn't in a very good mood tonight, Carmen. I'd advise you to mind your manners and clean up your act before going in!"
She kept her arm pressed against Carmen's throat until Carmen's face turned purple. When she released her, Carmen gasped and stumbled.
Mabel gestured at the door with her nightstick. "Let's go, kiddies. Inside."
She turned the knob, opened the door to the warden's office, and pushed Carmen inside. It was a large office with pale green walls and a big green desk.
The warden's executive desk chair was turned so that it faced away from the door. It had a high back, and she was concealed behind it.
After Dolly entered the room, Mabel closed the door.
The swivel chair spun around, and the warden turned to face Carmen.
Only it wasn't the warden-it was Sheila Ryan.
She wasn't dressed in prison clothes anymore. She wore the clothes she had worn when she entered prison to begin serving her term.
A black turtleneck sweater covered her torso. Her lush breasts bulged the sweater out. A pair of skin-tight jeans covered her from the waist down.
Sheila folded her hands and rested them on the warden's desk. "Thank you, Matron Creel. I've been waiting for this moment for a long time, Carmen."
Carmen couldn't have looked more stunned if she had been hit by lightning. Her jaw dropped. "What in the fuck is this?!"
"Your funeral," Sheila said.
Before Carmen could react, Mabel cracked her across the back of the skull with the nightstick. Carmen folded up and hit the floor in a heap.
"I hope you didn't hit her too very hard," Sheila said. "I want her alive."
Mabel knelt down and turned Carmen on her back. "She's not dead, just conked out. She'll come around pretty soon. She's tough."
"Is she? We'll see." Sheila tossed a pile of clothes at Dolly, who stood frozen in the spot she had been in since she entered.
Dolly looked dumbly as the clothes struck her and fell to the floor.
Sheila said, "Take off that prison shit, and put those clothes on."
"But what-" Dolly shook her head to clear it. "This is crazy!"
"This is a breakout," Sheila told her. "I'm leaving. And so are you. Now, get moving. We haven't any time to waste. Get your clothes off!"
Dolly stared at Mabel. "But-but she's a guard! I don't understand!"
Sheila grinned. "Luckily for me, they don't screen their guards too carefully in this state. Mabel is my best friend in all the world. She didn't intend to see me rot away in this hole. And I didn't intend to see you stay here, either."
Sheila got up from the chair, crossed the floor, and went to Dolly. She pulled the girl's shirt out of her pants, and ripped it open down the center.
She stripped Dolly naked from the waist up. She licked her lips when she saw Dolly's small but perfectly shaped breasts. "Those look delicious, but I haven't time to sample them now. We're still not out of here yet!"
She opened Dolly's pants and pulled them down off her hips. Dolly said, "I can do the rest myself!" She got out of her pants and put on the clothes Sheila had given her.
There was a ripping sound as Mabel tore the clothes off Carmen. Carmen moaned sickly. She was semi-conscious. Off came her shirt and pants.
Sheila stood looking down at her. "Not a bad body on the bitch. Tsk, tsk. What a pity about what's going to happen to her. Better tie her, Mabel."
"No, you do it, Sheila," Mabel said. "I have to go and get Margie."
Mabel rose and exited the office. Sheila bent down, grabbed Carmen's ankles, and dragged her across the floor. Dolly finished dressing.
Dolly wore a plaid skirt, a dark blouse, white socks, and loafers.
Sheila grunted as she dragged Carmen over to the warden's desk. "Damn! This bitch weighs a ton! I should have had Mabel give me a hand before she left!"
"I'll help," Dolly said, and went to her. Sheila cleared off the warden's desk by placing her arm at one end and sweeping everything off its top.
She and Dolly took hold of Carmen. Sheila hooked her hands under Carmen's shoulders, and Dolly grabbed her ankles. They grunted as they lifted her limp body.
There was a slapping sound as Carmen flopped on the desk. Her eyelids fluttered, and her face quivered with the pain of returning consciousness.
"We'd better move fast," Sheila said. "It sounds like she's going to wake up soon." Carmen was on her side, so Sheila turned her on her back.
Carmen's arms hung over the desk's edges. Sheila grabbed her ankles and spread her legs wide open. "There's some rope under the desk. Get it."
Dolly fetched the loop of rope. It was thin and tough, the kind used for a clothesline. "What-what are you going to do to her?"
"Something unpleasant. Do you care?"
Dolly's sweet face contorted with hate. "Make it hurt. Make her suffer."
Sheila used a knife stolen from the infirmary to cut the rope into four strands. She made loops at the end of each of the ropesadjustable nooses.
Sheila slipped one of the loops around Carmen's ankle, then pulled it tight. She bent down and tied the other end to the leg of the desk.
She repeated this process three times more. The result was that each of Carmen's limbs was securely bound to a leg of the desk. Carmen was tied spread eagled.
Carmen's mouth lolled slackly open and she moaned. Dolly gasped and stepped back. Then her eyes narrowed, and she reached for the knife.
"Take it easy," Sheila grinned. "You don't want to spoil my fun!"
She pried Dolly's fingers from the knife handle, and took it from her. "We better gag the bitch. I've got a great idea. Lift your skirt."
"Do you really think that it's the right time for us to make love?"
Sheila sighed with exasperation. "Lookyou're really a lovely girl. But we'll get along a whole lot better if you just do what I tell you. Don't ask a lot of questions, or try to think for yourself. Just do it."
Dolly gripped the hem of her skirt and raised it so that it was bunched around her narrow waist. Sheila gripped the girl's panties and took them down.
She held the frilly panties between her thumb and index finger. "The perfect gag, don't you think?" She went to Carmen, who seemed close to waking up.
Sheila pinched Carmen's nostrils shut. Carmen opened her mouth and jerked her head up. Sheila stuffed the panties in Carmen's mouth, filling it.
Carmen's eyes opened. They were glazed and unfocused, confused.
Sheila pressed Carmen's head back down. "Tear some thin strips from your prison shirt, Dolly." Dolly tore the strips, and handed them to Sheila.
Sheila took them and bunched them all together, winding the individual strips into one thick one. She shoved that big strip between Carmen's jaws.
Lifting Carmen's head off the desktop, Sheila knotted the strips at the back of her head. The strips held the panties inside Carmen's mouth.
Sheila let go of Carmen's head. The back of it cracked loudly against the top of the desk. Carmen was fully awake now, and maddened with rage.
She strained against the ropes, but Sheila had made sure that they were doubled up and couldn't be broken. Carmen was like a maniac in an asylum's violent ward.
As she twisted and turned and tore futilely at her bonds, the rope loops pulled tighter, and cut deeply into her flesh. Finally, Carmen gave up the struggle.
Her breasts heaved. Sweat beaded up on her forehead. Her eyes were bulging and bloodshot. She made choking sounds behind the gag.
"Ah, Carmen, you've returned to the land of the living," Sheila said. "But you won't be staying there for long, I promise you that."
She called Dolly to her. She slipped her arm around the girls waist and pulled her close, grinning hugely all the while. Carmen was foaming at the mouth.
"I told you that I'd take her from you," Sheila said. She lifted Dolly's skirt, showing Carmen the girl's naked thighs and her pussy.
Carmen struggled again as Sheila fondled Dolly's thighs. Sheila put her hand between the girl's legs, and had her open them to her touch.
"Such a delicious girl, Carmen," Sheila said. "I know I'll enjoy her."
Realizing Sheila's game, Dolly assisted in tormenting Carmen. She sighed and smiled and laid her head on Sheila's shoulder.
Sheila lovingly stroked Dolly's pussy. The thin lips rippled under her fingers.
"Ummmm, that feels so good," Dolly said. "Sheila knows how to treat a girl. She's not a pig like you, Carmen. Every time you put your hands on me, Carmen, I wanted to throw up. You disgust me. You'd disgust anyone. You're vile."
There was a knock on the door. Dolly stiffened with fear. For a moment, hope burned brightly in Carmen's wildly bulging eyes.
The hope died as Mabel and Margie entered the warden's office.
Margie went to Sheila. "Well, you went and did it! Congratulations! I didn't think it could be done, but I should have known that you were special."
Sheila said, "Are you sure that you won't change your mind and come along with us, Margie? I could use someone like you."
"Not me." Margie shook her head. "When I first came inside these gates, I fold myself that I would live here and die here. I won't change my mind."
"Besides," Margie said, "you're going to need someone here, in the warden's office, to free all the other cons and let them out. I'm electing myself."
"Don't mention it. Besides, it's all worth it to me to see Carmen get what's coming to her. She's sent a lot of good gals out of here in a pine box, but now it's her turn." Margie eagerly rubbed her hands together. "Now, it's her turn!"
Sheila reached under the desk. She brought up a two foot long section of a broomstick. One end of it had been sharpened to a spear tip.
Mabel opened a console near the warden's desk. It was hollowed out. Inside it was a metal plate with a number of switches on it.
Mabel activated the power switch, turning the console on. "Each of these switches automatically unlocks all the cells in a block. If you throw these switches, every cell in this prison, and every gate inside, will open up."
"I get it," Margie said. "I'll wait until a half-hour after you've left, and then I'll throw every one. This old prison is going to have the biggest mass breakout in history!"
"That leaves us with one last detail to take care of." Sheila took her sharpened stake and pressed the tip against Carmen's quivering pussy.
"How does it feel now, Carmen? This is how all your victims felt at the moment of truth. There's nothing that can save you, nothing? How do you like being on the receiving end for a change-the shitty end of the stick?"
Sheila took hold of the stick with two hands, and thrust it into Carmen.
Carmen's back bowed upward. Mabel covered her mouth. It was good that she did so, because even with the gag, Carmen's scream of agony would have been heard all through the prison. As it was, it didn't go beyond the room.
After a moment, Margie said, "Jesus! She's still alive!"
"I said she was a tough one," Mabel said.
"I hope she lasts a long, long time," Dolly hissed.
Sheila told Margie, "If she's still alive in thirty minutes, turn her over to the cons. I'm sure they'll be able to think of a few ways to finish her off."
Sheila, Mabel, and Dolly exited the room and made their escape.
CHAPTER FIVE
Three years later, and fifteen hundred miles away from the state where the women's prison was located, Dolly slept in an adult-sized crib with her dolly.
She was in the nursery room of a three-story, Victorian-style mansion located in a fashionable residential district in a Northeastern suburb.
The room was small and intimate. The walls were painted pink, and beige curtains covered the two windows. Outside, the sun was setting.
Dolly wore a white latex bodysuit which clung to her curves and was skin-tight. Her crib had been constructed by a carpenter who was also a slave.
Dolly lay on her side with her legs curled. A fuzzy pink blanket covered her. A brown rubber pacifier was stuck between her pink lips.
The door opened, and Maureen entered. She was a twenty-five year old redhead dressed in a white nurse's uniform. She wore black rubber stockings.
The soles of her white, flat-heeled shoes squeaked softly as she crossed the floor. Dolly stirred, but did not waken. She sighed in her sleep.
Maureen turned the on-switch of an electric hotplate and began heating up Dolly's formula for her feeding. Maureen also had another kind of feeding in mind.
She went to Dolly. The crib had high wooden rails, and a wooden covering. The bars were spaced too closely together for Dolly to slip through them.
A padlock secured the lid of the crib. Maureen unlocked it. The noise woke Dolly. She rolled on her back, opened her eyes, and looked up. She still held a rag doll clutched tightly to her. Maureen smiled down at her.
Maureen opened the lid and lowered the wooden railings. "Good evening, my dear little Dolly." She spoke in a cooing, gentle whisper.
Dolly pulled down the blanket so that she was uncovered. The latex bodysuit clung to her like it was painted on her slender, elegant body.
Her nipples were outlined against the latex. The soft rubber clung to her crotch so closely that even the folds of her pussy could be seen.
Dolly sucked loudly on the pacifier. She spread her legs wide open, lowered her hands to her crotch, and suggestively rubbed her pussy through the rubber.
"Shame on you, you naughty girl," Maureen chided. She took hold of Dolly's wrists and moved her hands to her sides. Dolly pouted.
"Are you wet?" Maureen asked. "Did you have an accident, and do you need to be changed? Was that why you were touching yourself? Or did you want something else?"
Maureen had a thin, pale face. Her skin was stretched tautly against the bones. Her cheekbones were high, and her cheeks were sunken.
Her eyebrows were very thin. Her eyes were dark green. Her nose was pertly upturned, and she had a wide, red-lipped mouth.
Her body was lean and strong. Her breasts were cone-shaped and sharply pointed, and they jutted against the stiff, starched white front of her uniform.
She bent over Dolly. Dolly touched her breasts. Maureen gently but firmly removed the hands. Maureen's uniform was unbuttoned so that the soft curves of her breasts showed. The black rubber stockings contrasted with her white garments.
Dolly's bodysuit had a number of flaps. There was one at the crotch. Maureen opened it and took it off, exposing the girl's crotch.
The removal of the flap exposed a triangular area, so that Dolly's pussy was on display. Maureen put her hand between the girl's rubber covered legs.
Dolly gurgled with pleasure as Maureen fondled her pussy. Maureen stroked the thin, delicate pussy bps, which rippled under her gliding fingers.
"No, you don't seem wet," Maureen said. "So that can't be the problem. So what else could it be, I wonder? Maybe I'd better get undressed and take a closer look." She unzipped the back of her uniform and took it off.
She wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts were pear shaped, firm, and very white, with long pink nipples and neat round roseates which looked like buttons.
She wore a black rubber garter belt, black latex panties, and her stockings. Her firm breasts jiggled as she bent over to untie her shoes.
Dolly looked at her with interest. The girl's eyes were no longer sleepy and unfocused. They glittered with lust. She began fondling her pussy.
Maureen took off her shoes and stepped out of them. She peeled her panties off her hips and took them off. Her bush was brick red in color, soft and furry.
Maureen's skin was white and creamy, like soap. Most of Dolly's flesh was covered by the bodysuit, but what was on display was soft pink.
Dolly sighed. Her fingers writhed on her pussy, moving faster and faster.
Maureen set her panties down on a rail of the crib. Her pussy was like a flower of flesh. "Dolly, you know that you're really quite naughty to be touching yourself down there all the time. The Mistress would be quite cross if she caught you doing that. You know that she doesn't like you to play with yourself." She once more moved Dolly's hand. The girl's fingers glistened with pussy juices.
Maureen extended her middle finger and slipped it between Dolly's pussy lips. Dolly rocked her bottom on the crib's plush mattress.
Dolly's bodysuit was constructed so that when its crotchpiece was removed, both her . front and her back were nakedly exposed between her legs.
Dolly sucked wetly on the pacifier while Maureen slipped her finger in and out of her pussy. Muscles flexed in her rubber covered thighs.
Maureen took her finger out. From its tip to its knuckle, it glistened with Dolly's secretions. Maureen said, "Well, if you weren't wet before, you certainly are now!"
She pulled the pacifier out of Dolly's mouth. It made a soft popping sound as it came out from her lips. Maureen set it down, and returned to the girl.
The redhead said, "Since you are so wet, I suppose it won't do any harm for me to finish the job. It will do the both of us good, my little darling."
Maureen climbed into the crib. She positioned herself so that her hips were poised over Dolly's head, and her head was facing Dolly's pussy.
Maureen's rubber covered thighs straddled Dolly's head. Maureen's pussy hung over Dolly's face. Dolly lifted her head from the mattress in order to kiss the pussy, but it still remained a few inches out of her reach, and she sighed disappointedly..
She put her hands on Maureen's bare hips and tried to pull her down to her. The redhead didn't fight. She moved her knees farther apart from Dolly's head, lowering her pussy closer to the girl's open, waiting mouth.
Maureen leaned forward and rested her palms on the mattress on either side of Dolly's hips. She teasingly rocked her hips back and forth, so that her pussy lips just brushed Dolly's nose and her pink puckered lips.
Dolly opened her mouth wide, stretching her lips. Maureen tired of her little game, and lowered her pussy down to the girl's eager mouth.
Her pussy lips spread to the side, exposing slippery pink membranes. Dolly buried her face between the labia, and gurgled happily as she rubbed her face back and forth on the membranes, smearing juices on herself.
Maureen rested her hands on Dolly's thighs and spread them even more wide open than they had been, She leaned forward and planted her mouth on the pussy.
She kissed and teasingly licked Dolly's pussy. Maureen was more of a game player, and her pink pointed tongue glided across the labia before dipping between them.
Dolly was less restrained. She began sucking and kissing and licking. Her tongue lapped up Maureen's juices, and kept coming back for more.
Maureen rested her fingertips on Dolly's labia and gently parted them, revealing the throbbing pink clitoris hidden beneath. It was a delicate pearl of flesh.
Maureen went pearl diving. Her tongue tip circled the clitoris, licking circles around it. Dolly bent her legs and rocked her hips.
Maureen slid her tongue across the clitoris. Dolly moaned. Since her mouth was clamped to Maureen's dripping pussy membranes, her moans vibrated against them, providing the lean redhead with an extra added thrill.
The quiet room was filled with the liquid sounds of the two women pleasuring each other by mouth. The crib creaked and rocked on its frame.
Maureen was more skilled in the oral arts, and she made Dolly come first. Dolly rocked her hips faster and faster, then drummed her heels as she climaxed.
Maureen wouldn't let her rest until Dolly made her come, too.
After another moment of Dolly's tongue being applied to her pussy, Maureen came. She raised her wet mouth from Dolly's dripping pussy and cried out.
Maureen sat up straight, pressing her hot pussy even tighter on Dolly's mouth. She cupped her breasts and pinched the nipples as she orgasmed.
She tilted her head back, cording the muscles of her neck. Her breasts were firm as plums. Her mouth opened in a monaing growl. She shivered with delight.
Her body vibrated. She squeezed her eyes shut, then sagged in relief as the orgasm released the tension of her body. A pink flush spread through her skin.
She rested. She lifted her pussy off Dolly's face so the girl could breathe. She remained sitting on Dolly's head for another minute or two.
Then she climbed off the girl. Her muscles felt loose and relaxed from the force of her orgasm. As she stepped down off the crib to the floor, she felt a momentary wave of dizziness. She clutched the crib rail for support until it passed.
Maureen rose on tiptoes, stretched, and yawned luxuriously. Saliva gleamed on her pussy lips, which were a deep, bright pink in color from the orgasm.
She looked down at Dolly. Dolly's face was wet and red. Her deep blue eyes were glazed with pleasure. She closed her thighs and squeezed them against her pussy.
"Look at you," Maureen said fondly, "what a state you're in! I'll have to get you cleaned up-the Mistress wouldn't like to see you looking so disordered."
She helped Dolly out of the crib. Dolly fondled Maureen's breasts and bottom as the redhead unpeeled the bodysuit off her, stripping her naked.
Maureen's saliva matted Dolly's pussy lips and pubic bush. When Dolly was nude, Maureen led her into the small bathroom which was adjacent to the nursery.
Maureen filled the bathtub with hot soapy water and helped Dolly into it. She scrubbed the girl thoroughly, lavishing special attention on her breasts and pussy and bottom. When Dolly climbed out of the tub, her flesh was pink and shining.
Maureen ministered to Dolly's hygienic needs. She sat Dolly on the toilet. Dolly only had to urinate. Maureen wondered if she should give the girl an enema.
She decided against it. Dolly had taken an enema only a few days ago, and Maureen didn't want to overdo the treatment, since that would be unhealthy.
After she cleaned Dolly up, she led her back into the nursery. She spread a rubber sheet on the crib mattress before having Dolly get on top of it.
She rubbed baby oil into Dolly's pussy lips and thighs and bottom. Dolly became quite aroused from this treatment, and kept rocking her hips in response.
Maureen stroked the oil into the labia and the clitoris. Dolly bent her legs and spread her thighs. Maureen's hands were oiled and greasy and slippery.
She rubbed the oil into the crack of Dolly's ass. Her middle finger was lubricated, so she playfully slipped it into Dolly's anus, burying it deep.
She slid her finger in and out of Dolly's ass while she massaged her clitoris at the same time. It didn't take her very long to make Dolly come.
Dolly was exhausted from her second orgasm. She lay there passively, trying to catch her breath, her breasts heaving as she panted.
Maureen wiped her hands clean on a towel, then powdered the girl's crotch front and back. The white talcum fell on Dolly's flesh like snow. It smelled sweet.
After the oiling and powdering, Dolly was pinned into an adult-sized diaper. Maureen fitted the white triangle of thickly absorbent cotton on her hips.
Maureen put Dolly's small feet through the leg openings of a pair of plastic pants. She pulled the pants up her calves and thighs, and onto her hips.
The pants were tightly gathered at the waist and the legs, and baggy in the seat. They were waterproof. Maureen pulled the blanket up to Dolly's neck.
Dolly's bottle was ready. Maureen brought it to her, and fitted the bottle's rubber nipple between Dolly's lips. Dolly held the lukewarm bottle and sucked.
Maureen smoothed damp strands of hair away from the girl's smooth forehead. "That's all for now, honey. I'll look in on you later. I have to go to work now."
She raised the crib rails, covered it with the lid, and locked it into place. She peered therough the wooden bars. Dolly had sucked out a third of the heated, milky formula in the baby bottle. Maureen fondly blew her a kiss.
As she crossed the nursery, Maureen heard a car door slam outside. Curious, she lifted the edge of the curtain and peered down through the window.
A taxi cab was standing at the curb, and a man was getting out of it. Maureen recognized him. This was Richard Carlton, a regular client of the Mistress.
He would be going to see Gretel, she knew. It was a bit early, but Richard always liked to arrive before the rush began. He visited the house at least once a week.
Maureen lowered the curtain in place. She knew she would have to get changed into her working costume soon, and she would have to shower and freshen up first.
So she didn't bother to get dressed. She slipped her white shoes on, but didn't tie them. She gathered up her uniform and her black rubber panties.
She exited the nursery, locking the door behind her. Usually, Dolly lived in the nursery when she wasn't with the Mistress.
When one of the Mistress' clients had a fetish for infantilization, Dolly was moved to a different room. But no adult babies were scheduled tonight.
Maureen went down the hall to her room, and got ready for work.
Down below, on the street, Richard Carlton paid and tipped the cab driver. The cabbie said thanks, then drove off, eager to pick up another fare.
Carlton looked at the house. It was a handsome mansion, built at the turn of the century. It had towers and gables and peaked roofs.
The sun had set, and stars twinkled in the blue-black sky. To the north could be seen the yellow glow of the lights of the big city.
Richard unlatched the gate of the house. The house was surrounded by a shoulder-high iron picket fence. He carefully closed the gate, and went up the walk to the house.
Lights burned in the windows of the house, and he had the odd impression that the house itself was somehow alive, that the windows were eyes through which it stared at him. A chill wind blew, and he quickened his steps.
Standing on the veranda, he reached for the brass door knocker. Before his hand touched it, the door opened from the inside.
Mabel Creel stood at the door. She had changed little in the three years since the prison break. She wore a simple and expensive black dress.
"Good evening, Richard," she said. "So nice to see you again."
Carlton entered the house. Mabel shut and locked the door. "Lucy will take your coat and hang it up," she said, signaling to a cross-dressed male maid.
Lucy was a young man in his late twenties who looked ten years younger. Of course, at that moment, he didn't look like a young man at all.
He was five foot ten, and weighed 150 pounds. His face was made up, he wore a curly blonde wig, and his body was covered by a French maid's uniform.
The uniform was black satin, with puffed sleeves and a flared skirt. Fishnet stockings supported by garters covered his long legs.
A white lace cap was pinned to the top of his head, and a lacy white apron was pinned around his waist. His petticoats rustled as he approached.
Richard removed his topcoat and handed it to the male maid. Lucy curtseyed and said, "Hello, Mr. Carlton." His voice was soft and whispering.
"Hello, Lucy." Carlton watched the male maid turn and take the coat to the closet. The hem of Lucy's skirt was high, and Richard could see his bottom cheeks when he walked. Lucy wore a pair of frilly black satin panties.
Mabel said, "Please go up to Gretel's room, Mr. Carlton. You're expected."
Richard climbed the winding staircase to the second floor. As he neared the top, his eagerness made him take the steps two at a time. His heart beat rapidly.
He went down a carpeted hall, long and shadowed, and lit by yellow globes. This house was a place of shadows. The walls had dark wood paneling.
On either side of him were closed doors. Richard could only imagine what went on behind those doors. He hurried to the door of Gretel's room, and knocked.
She told him to come in. As he reached for the door knob, he noticed that his palms were sweaty. He turned the knob, opened the door, entered the room.
Gretel sat on the edge of the bed, her long legs crossed. She was a silver-haired ice princess, a beautiful Nordic woman of thirty whose skin was white as snow. Her hair was so blonde and white that it looked like it was made of finely spun silver.
She wore a black corset with leather half-cups, a black lace garter belt, red satin panties, black stockings, and black leather high heels.
Her face was exquisite, but cold. Her eyes were dark blue, her nose was thin and straight, and her lips were red and thin and compressed in a disapproving line.
A black velvet choker collar with an antique cameo circled her long neck.
The corset was made of black leather. The half-cups lifted her lush breasts as though offering them for consumption. It left her nipples bare.
Her skin was the color of old ivory. The black corset had many gleaming metal studs set in the seams. The bottom of it came down to her waist.
Frilly black garters dangled down from the corset. She wore her red satin panties over the garters, for quick and easy removal.
The panties were bikini style and lowcut and very tight. Her pussy was clearly outlined against the shimmering red fabric. Richard's mouth watered.
Gretel's right leg was crossed over her left, and her right foot dangled. The black stockings fit her long legs without a wrinkle. They were sleek and alluring.
The black patent leather shoes had six-inch spiked heels and sharply pointed toes. A black leather strap rested across the middle of her thighs.
Richard didn't have to be told to get down on his knees and press his forehead to the floor to honor this divine mistress. He performed the ritual automatically.
Gretel let him wait for a minute before she got up. Her stiletto heels made clicking sounds as she crossed the floor. Her black leather high heels and her nylon covered ankles moved into his field of vision. That was all he could see of her, with his head pressed down to the carpet in adoring worship.
Pressing her leather toe under his chin, she lifted his head. "You may kiss my foot, Richard." Her voice was clipped and cool, with a slight German accent.
He nervously licked his lips. He puckered them and pressed them against her shoe. He wanted to lick and suck it, but didn't dare take that liberty.
His lips touched leather. Gretel moved her foot away before he even had a chance to properly worship it. "Look at me, slave Richard."
He raised his head and stared up at his goddess. She spread her legs and rested her hands on her hips and stared down at him like a scientist examining some bug through a microscope. His penis felt heavy, and began twitching.
"You have displeased me, Richard. You missed your session last week. What do you have to say in your defense?" Her eyes were like chips of blue glass.
"I-I'm sorry, Mistress." His voice was hoarse and rasping. He cleared his throat. "An unavoidable business trip. I had to go out of town. I called to cancel my sesssion. I didn't want to miss it, but I just couldn't make the appointment!"
"That is not good enough," she said. "My training program requires that you take a session with me at least once a week. Such a poor slave as you can not afford to miss one sesssion, no, ont even one. It has hurt your training."
She continued, "Luckily for you, you had the good sense to cancel in advance. Even so, your training has been interrupted. Since you missed one session, you will have to be punished twice as hard during this one."
She held the leather strap in her right hand.
She tapped it against her thigh.
She said, "I do not propose to waste one minute more. Take off your clothes. You will learn the meaning of bondage and correction and discipline!"
CHAPTER SEX
Richard took off his clothes and draped them neatly on the back of a wooden arm chair in the corner of the room. Gretel readied her ropes.
She sat down on her bed. It was an antique fourposter with an overhead canopy. Iron chains with cuffs attached were bolted to the posts.
Richard undressed and stood naked in the center of the room. He looked down at his feet. His hands hung loosely at his sides. His penis thickened.
"I am going to bind you, Richard," Gretel said. "But first, you'll have to crawl to me. And not on your hands and knees, either, That would be too easy. Get down on your belly and slither over to me like the pink worm you are."
Her degrading words caused his member to quicken with life. It twitched and jerked. It got heavier, then lengthened, stiffened, and became erect.
It jutted out from his hips, a rigid rod of red flesh with blue veins on its shaft.
"The longer you keep me waiting, slave, the harder your punishment will be."
He dropped to his hands and knees, then extended himself and lay belly down on the floor. The carpet was thin, with a coarse fibre which scraped his flesh.
His penis was pressed between his body and the hard, carpeted floor. He stretched his arms out in front of him. His member throbbed from the pressure.
"Crawl, slave, crawl!"
He crawled. He inched forward, pulling his body across the carpet. His flesh tingled as it rubbed against the carpet. His penis ached from the treatment.
At long last, he finally reached Gretel's feet. His cock was red and sore.
"Stand up so I can tie you," she commanded. "I wouldn't stoop so low as to bend down to put you in bondage." Obeying her, he stood up.
His penis was now bright red from the friction of chafing against the carpet.
"Ah, yes, that nasty piece of flesh," Gretel said. "It's no longer a miserable little pink worm. Now it's big, and hard, and full. You desire me. That is good, because I am so eminently desirable. But it is bad, too. It is not fit that a lowly worm, a crawler such as yourself, should dare to desire your divine mistress."
She gave the fleshy head of his penis a contemptuous flick with her finger. There was a sharp snapping sound as her red-painted fingernail sharply struck his member.
Richard winced. His stiff cock bobbed up and down, shaking from her touch.
"We can not allow you to remain in such a state," Gretel said. "You would be concentrating on yourself, rather than on your punishment. So, we will have to get rid of that erection. Or, rather, you will have to get rid of it."
She set her strap down on the mattress and stood up. She pulled her panties down off her hips. The red satin undergarments slid down her stockinged legs.
She ordered him to pick them up. He did so. She sat down, put her hands on his naked bottom, and pulled him close to her. She wrapped the panties around his cock.
His face blushed bright red. Her long fingered hands nimbly wrapped the panties around his rod, folding the fabric so that it stayed on by itself.
His penis was wrapped in red satin. Gretel ordered him to turn to one side and stand in profile. Richard was upset. Now he couldn't look at her directly, but only out of the corner of his eye. His panty covered member jerked and bobbed.
Gretel picked up her leather strap. It was long and thick and heavy.
She said, "You realize that I am not going to stroke you off, Richard. You are going to do it for yourself. Since we both know how much you masturbate, that should seem quite natural to you. And, while you stroke yourself, I will stroke your ass. With my leather strap, naturally. Now, get a grip on yourself, and go to work."
Richard closed his fist around his penis. He moved his hand slowly up and down the shaft. He was startled by the crack of leather across his buttocks.
He hadn't expected that she would hit him so hard. He whimpered, but speeded up the rate at which he pulled and kneaded his panty covered penis.
Gretel sat on the bed, whipping his bottom while he masturbated. The strapping increased his excitement, and soon he was breathing hard and fast.
Her breasts jiggled in their leather half-cups. The strap fell squarely across his buttocks. They turned first pink and then red.
His breath came in a sobbing moan. His hand was a blur of motion on his penis. His buttocks were tightly clenched. The strap struck them again and again.
He came. He shivered convulsively. Semen jetted from his cock into the panties.
Gretel applied the strap harder than ever while he orgasmed.
The last drops of semen were squeezed from his swollen balls. His mouth was a black hole in his red face, open and gasping for breath.
Gretel put down her strap. She had him turn and face her. She carefully unwrapped the panties from his member, which remained stiff and hot.
She made sure that none of the semen dripped out of the panties. There was a thick quantity of come puddling in the folds of the red satin.
"Get down on your knees, and open your mouth," Gretel said.
He did so. His member remained erect. Gretel grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked his head back, tilting it upward, cording his neck muscles.
Holding the panties in her thumb and index finger, making sure that none of his semen dripped on her, she lowered the panties into his mouth.
They filled it, pushing out his cheeks. She stuffed the last folds of red satin fabric inside. "How do you like the taste of yourself?" she asked.
It was a rhetorical question which he couldn't answer since his mouth was full.
"This is one of my old stockings. It is ruined with runs." She held the nylon in her hands. "It will be perfect for holding the panties in place."
She pulled the nylon between his jaws, then knotted it into place behind the back of his head. "There! Now I won't have to listen to your whimpering and whining!"
She told him to stand up. She turned him around so that his back faced her. She pulled his hands behind his back, crossed his wrists, and tied them together.
She took a thin, tough section of rawhide cord and put a loop in it. She moved him so that his front faced her once more. She cupped and lifted his balls.
She slipped the loop over the top of his balls and pulled it tight. He winced from the pain. The tightness made his balls look like a mushroom cap.
She gripped the base of his shaft, and wrapped the rest of the cord around it. His penis was still stiff, and this insured it would stay that way.
While she handled him, a drop of semen oozed from his cock head. She smeared the drop on her fingertip, then smeared it on his forehead.
"I hereby baptise thee slave Richard," she laughed.
Now she was ready to really begin his punishment.
She took him face down across her lap. His stiff penis was trapped between her nyloned thighs, which she pressed firmly against it, holding it in place.
He sighed as he snuggled into her lap. From where he lay, he could see only the sweeping curve of her stockinged thigh, and her high heeled shoe.
He could smell the perfume of her flesh. His skin tingled as she moved him around on her lap, moving him, adjusting his position, never releasing his cock from her thighs. She hooked her leg over his ankles so he couldn't thrash or kick.
She put her hands on his bottom. She kneaded and fondled his buttocks, which were tender from the strapping she had given him.
There was tremendous pressure in his genitals. His excitement caused his member to swell. Wehn it did, the rawhide cords cut into it, hurting him.
She parted his buttocks and ran her fingertip down the crack of his ass. She toyed teasingly with his puckered anus, which contracted at her touch.
Then she picked up her strap and really went to work on him.
The first time had been only a slight taste of the pain to come. Her strong arm rose and fell with mechanical regularity as it whipped his bottom.
He writhed on her lap as much as he was able. She wrapped her free arm around his waist and held him tightly so he couldn't wriggle away from her punishing blows.
His buttocks rippled under the force of the descending strap. His ass cheeks darkened to a full, deep red, with a raw purple center.
Tears flowed freely down his face, spilling on the floor. His sobs were muffled by the panty gag. His trembling body jerked and quivered.
She paused when her arm tired, only to take up the strap and begin again and again.
When she finally halted the beating, his ass cheeks were hot to her touch.
She wrestled him off her lap and onto the mattress. He lay on his belly, his wet red face buried in the soft mattress. His shoulders jerked with sobbing.
She unknotted her nylon at the back of his head. She took the panties out of his mouth. They were sodden and sopping and soggy.
She rubbed them against his spanked buttocks. He moaned and writhed from the pain. The saliva left shining stains on his purple ass cheeks.
He groaned as she parted his buttocks, exposing his dark crack. She swabbed the crack of his ass with the panties, wetting him down.
Her long fingers twisted a fold of the panties, twirling it into a sharp point. Holding his buttocks spread apart, she pushed the panties into his asshole.
His purple ass flesh whitened where her fingers gripped it. She stuffed a corner of the panties into his brown, puckered anus. He gasped at the invasion.
"This is just a sample," she promised him. "When you've been my slave longer, you'll be subjected to much more probing, penetrating things put inside you."
He pressed his groin deep into the mattress as she pushed the panties inside him. As she pushed, she twirled the folds of wet red satin, making them long and thin so she could more easily stuff them inside his tight rectum.
When she halted, at least half the panties were in him. The other half of them blossomed out of his anus like a red flower of fabric.
She released his buttocks. His whipped ass cheeks pressed tightly closed against the wet panties, rising out of them like a red danger flag.
"How ridiculous you look!" she said approvingly. "You are my clownish slave."
Gretel stretched out on the bed, her long limbs rustling against the sheets.
She leaned her back up against the headboard. The polished wood was cool and slick against her flesh where it emerged from the black leather corset.
Her pubic bush was the color of lightly toasted bread. Her red nailed fingers stroked her pussy lips. Her nipples puckered and stiffened.
"All this amusement is having an erotic effect on me," she said. "It must be the evidence of my power over a slave which excites me, since it certainly isn't the appeal of your pink, inchworm body. I need excitement."
She told him to crawl to her. His penis and balls were thick and swollen from the confining rawhide cords, which cut agonizingly into his flesh.
He couldn't recall when his member had ever been so stiff and thick. And Gretel had tied the thin black cords so very tightly that they sank into his cock flesh.
He crawled to her on his belly. Every moment sent waves of pain through his genitals and his spanked ass. But it was better than crawling on the floor.
He could move only very, very slowly. The fresh smell of newly laundered sheets filled his nostrils. His small pink nipples were stiffly throbbing.
His target was her softly furred bush and her thick pink pussy lips. Her pubic delta lay at the center of the V formed by her legs in their dark nylons.
While he crawled, she fondled her breasts. She put her hands on them, so that the nipples peeped out between her fingers. They were rigid pink points.
Finally, at long last, he reached her. He rested his chin on the mattress. The smell of fresh laundry was replaced by the more delicious aroma of her pussy, which rose in a thick musky scent from between her legs.
She saw what he was looking at. "There it is, inchworm. The peerless prize, the supreme privilege. My slaves must suffer before they can serve it."
She slouched down from the headboard, lowering herself, sliding her hips closer to him. His mouth watered as he saw her pussy move nearer to him.
She patted the top of his head. "You know what to do, slave. And you had better do it to perfection, or suffer the worst punishment of all-having it taken away."
She moved forward the few inches it took to bring her pussy in direct contact with his mouth. His lips rubbed her infinitely softer pussy lips.
The perfumed aroma of her sex was intoxicating. He was lightheaded from it. He extended his tongue until it ached at the root, and played it over her labia.
She put her hands behind her head and rested it on them. She moved forward even closer. Her pussy lips spread to the sides, revealing slippery pink membranes.
He dipped his tongue inside. Her juices tingled on it. He licked and slurped.
After a few minutes of that, she took hold of his hair and moved his head so that his tongue moved up her dripping slit, to her throbbing clitoris.
It pulsed against his tongue tip. He moved it back and forth, flicking it against the pearl of flesh. He tongued her until his jaws ached with weariness.
She held his head in place with one hand, and fondled her breasts with the other. Her nipples were pink pebbles jutting from the tips of her white breasts.
She moved her hips in response to the rhythms of his tongue. She moved faster and faster as he excited her to a shattering, satisfying climax.
When she came, she rested her high heeled feet on his bare back, crossed her ankles, and squeezed her nyloned thighs against his head.
He was breathless and smothering as his nostrils and mouth were filled with sleek, dripping pussy membranes. Her thighs held him in a vise-like grip.
Her breasts trembled and her body shook as she came.
After a moment, she unlocked her ankles and opened her thighs, releasing him. He gasped and filled his burning lungs with cool, sweet air.
Gretel rested. Strands of hair which had worked loose from the coiled bun at the top of her head were plastered down to her sweating, smiling face.
She said, "That wasn't bad, slave. You have pleased your mistress, which is no small accomplishment. For that, you shall be rewarded."
She turned him on his back. He hissed with pain as his weight rested on his whipped buttocks. Gretel's breasts dangled as she bent over him.
She unknotted the rawhide cords around his shaft. They had left deep red grooves in his stiff penis. She unlooped the cord from his swollen balls.
He sobbed with relief. The pain of circulation being restored to his cock and balls made him feel like he was going to crawl out of his skin.
He lay there on his back, sobbing and gasping like a fish out of water.
Gretel said, "Come, come, stop your whimpering. I have a reward for you, but you won't be able to enjoy it until you get control of yourself."
She stretched out on the bed, and rolled over on her back. She spread her legs wide open. His saliva gleamed on her pussy lips, and matted her bush.
She hooked her hands under his shoulders, and pulled him toward her. She was strong. She wrestled him up on top of her. She said, "I'm feeling too lazy to get on top of you. So you'll have to get on top of me-only physically, of course."
She took a handful of saliva and smeared it on his swollen cock head. She gripped his member, and rubbed it against her pussy lips.
His moans of pain slowly turned to gasps of pleasure. Gretel positioned him so that his lower body and hips were on top of hers, but his upper body stretched off to the side, so that he lay with his chest pressing on the sheets.
Gretel guided his cock head between her pussy lips. He sighed, and moved his hips against her. His red shaft disappeared between her pussy lips.
His rigid cock was enveloped by the wet, tight furnace of her pussy. He almost shot as soon as he entered her. He bit his lip until warm blood spurted into his mouth.
It helped him keep control of himself, and delay his orgasm. He knew that she would have punished him severely if he had been so foolish as to come in her as soon as he entered her. Her pussy was not offered to his penis often.
Gretel let her arm dangle off the side of the bed. She groped for her leather strap, which lay on the floor. She found it and picked it up.
Richard rocked his hips back and forth. Since he lay across her at an angle, he couldn't move too quickly, or his cock would have come loose from her pussy.
The strap fell across his ass. It fell lightly the first time, with a soft touch. His buttocks tightened. The strap fell again, a bit harder.
Pillows were piled under her back, raising her upper body to a reclining position. She alternated warm caresses of his bottom and upper thighs, with sharp swats of the leather strap. When she strapped him, he could feel the tingling from his ass all the way through his body. ,His thighs, naked and soft, rubbed against her stockinged thighs. The strap landed on his squirming bottom with a steady rhythm.
That rhythm directed and guided his movements. When the strap hit him, he thrust forward, into her. When she fondled him, he pulled out, so that most of his red cock emerged from between her pussy lips. In and out, back and forth.
Gretel moved her hips under him. Her pussy was hot wet velvet. She sighed with dominant pleasure. The strap began to fall on him with more and more force.
His hands were still bound behind his back. His hands were purple from lack of circulation. They were going numb, and felt like they were swollen and stiff.
Still the strap fell, harder and faster. Now the pain of the swats was making him cry aloud in pain. But he didn't interrupt that thrusting movement.
"Come on, slave," Gretel urged. "Faster. Thrust it faster, damn you!"
Her voice, usually cool and precise, was now harsh and rasping with lust.
The strap came down really hard now. Richard moaned and cried, but he kept on humping away. The muscles of Gretel's thighs flexed in her nylons.
The sensual friction of his penis rubbing against her dripping pussy was hard to resist. His guts were twisted in knots from the pain of holding back.
The fire in his bottom mixed with the fire in his cock. Pain and pleasure were one and the same. He was babbling wordlessly, tears dripping from his eyes.
He came. He cried out. His body shuddered as though a high voltage current was rocking through it. His penis felt like it spurted a thunderbolt.
Semen gushed from his member into her pussy. It came in thick, spurting jets. His cock twitched like a severed nerve inside her.
Gretel stopped moving. The muscles in her pussy contracted, gripping his cock and milking the last drops of semen out of it.
He collapsed. He lay across her, whimpering, too weak to move.
Gretel sighed. She stopped rocking her hips. She set aside her strap, and cradled his head.
She smoothed his hair, and caressed his sweating back and shoulders.
A few minutes passed before he returned to the world of reality.
She patted his head. "You're very welcome, slave, but aren't you forgetting something?" Puzzled, he raised his head to look at her face.
She explained, "Surely you must know that I'm not going to permit any slave of mine to leave his mess inside me. You must do your duty, and clean me out."
She pushed his smooth shoulders. "Withdraw from me, now."
He moved backward. His stillerect penis glided against her pussy as he pulled out of her. There was a liquid pop as his cock head came free of her labia.
She said, "I want a particularly thorough cleaning, slave. I have other slaves scheduled to see me tonight, and you must clean me out for them. Perhaps, sometime when you have been very, very good, I will permit you to watch me."
"Oh, God, Mistress Gretel. I don't think I could stand to watch another slave with you. I know I don't have any right to be jealous-"
"You most certainly do not," she said firmly. "You are a slave, and have no rights at all-only the right to serve me at my convenience and pleasure."
She put her finger across his lips. "Say no more, or you will anger me. Now that I know that it would hurt you to watch me with another slave, you may be certain that I will force you to do just that the next time you visit me. That should teach you a lesson about your so-called rights. Now, enough of your chatter."
She rolled him on his back. He groaned through clenched teeth from the pain. Not only did his bottom ache, but his bound hands throbbed with agony.
Mistress Gretel straddled his head. She rested her buttocks on his chest. Semen oozed out from inside her pussy lips, making them shine and glisten.
His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth. Her stockinged legs were folded under her, bracketing his red, sweating head. Her pussy was poised over his mouth.
A drop of semen slipped down from inside her pussy. It hung on a long, slender strand, and slowly dripped into his mouth.
Gretel put her fingers on her pussy lips and spread them to the sides, showing pink. Her pussy membranes were saturated with semen.
She lowered herself down on his face. The last thing she saw his expression of mingled pain, fear, and eager anticipation. Then she sat on his face.
He gurgled underneath her. His lips and tongue went to work, cleaning her out.
Gretel rocked back and forth. There was no reason why she shouldn't get some pleasure out of this, so she massaged her pussy while he tongued her clean.
Directly over her head, in a luxurious room on the third floor. Mistress Sheila Ryan, the master of this house of domination, put the finishing touches on her make-up. Her superb body was clothed in a bizarrely dominant outfit.
Like a black widow spider at the center of her web, Sheila was the spiritual center of this place of dominance and submission.
She and her fellow mistresses were the dominants. The clients who came here to have their deepest needs attended to were the submissives.
Her night-time world of masters and slaves was just coming to life.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sheila sat on a wooden bench in front of her vanity in her bedroom.
She hardly resembled the hardened convict with the short, scruffy brown hair who had created such havoc in the women's prison.
Her hair had grown out now, and brushed her shoulders. It was parted in the center, and neatly cut. She had dyed it a deep mahogany shade, one which glittered with smoky red highlights. Her hair was freshly shampooed and set.
Her eyebrows were darkened with the aid of a pencil into thin, imperiously arching lines. Her pale eyes were widened by the application of eyeliner and shadow.
The bone structure of her face had subtly but definitely changed. She had had plastic surgery done to alter her appearance. It had only increased her beauty.
Her lips were covered with a glossy red lipstick which looked like fresh paint. Subtle blushers made her cheeks look more sunken and dramatic.
She wore a custom-tailored gown of black leather. The gown reached from her shoulders to the middle of her calves. The leather was soft and supple.
The gown had thin shoulder straps and a plunging neckline which slashed in a wide V to her navel. Most of her breasts were fully on display.
The gown had twin cups which lifted and supported her breasts. Her nipples were outlined against the leather. Her flesh was smooth and glowing.
The gown was slit up the sides to the tops of her thighs. She wore a garter belt and stockings and black boots of leather polished so birghtly that they were like black mirrors.
The boots had stiletto heels and pointed toes.
Sheila's vanity table was covered with scores of bottles of perfume, lotions, and cosmetics. They mingled to give her room a sweet, tantalizing fragrance.
Of course, she was no longer known as Sheila Ryan. As far as the authorities knew, Sheila Ryan was dead, and they no longer looked for her.
That had been expensive to arrange, but it had been worth every penny of the expensive fee she had paid to the corrupt record keeper at the morgue.
He had positively identified the body of a poor woman who had burned to death in a rooming house fire as Sheila Ryan. He had profited from that transaction.
Only Dolly and Mabel knew who she really was. Everyone else, all her fellow mistresses in her employ, her slaves, and even the masters of this town, knew her by a different identity. To them, she was Mistress Justine.
Sheila peered into the circular mirror on the table. Her make-up was perfect.
A tingling warmth spread through her thighs, and she knew her orgasm was near.
She sat on a wooden bench. This bench had an unusual modification. There was a round, circular hole cut in the seat of it, about twelve inches in diameter.
A naked male slave crouched under the bench. His legs were bent so that his chin touched his knees. His hands were bound to his ankles.
The slave's name was Jason. Jason was twenty-four years old, very handsome, and a total submissive. By much hard work, slavish service, and suffering, he had been given the supreme privilege of joining her stable of body slaves.
He had short brown hair, sharply formed, sensitive features, and deep brown eyes, soft and trusting. He was slim and tall, and his slender body was shaved smooth and clean. Only his genitals were surrounded by soft brown hair.
Sheila sat on the bench so that her buttocks and pussy hung down through the hole. Since she wore no panties, her naked pussy was open for his oral adoration.
It was just a trifling amusement which she had devised to help her spend her time at the vanity table more pleasantly. It was pleasant now.
Jason's slowly moving tongue glided over her pussy lips and her clitoris. His head was tilted backward, and his mouth was fastened to her pussy.
Sheila had arranged her gown so that the skirt of it flared down over the bench. Jason huddled in the warm, tent-like darkness, serving her pussy.
Sheila examined her image in the mirror. She looked perfect. She had to look perfect, because this was no ordinary business night.
This would be a night of bizarre vengeance.
But that was later. Right now, there were other, sweeter pleasures for her to concentrate on. She put her make-up kit away.
She pulled her black leather skirt up to her waist. She wore a black satin garter belt with frilly black lace trimmings which lay on her skin like veils.
Fat farters hung down from the belt. The tabs were pinned to the dark tops of her nylons. The stockings made her long legs even more alluring.
Sheila opened her legs wide. There was just enough space between the rim of the opening in the bench, and her own hips, for her to see Jason's head moving below.
She didn't need to see him. She could feel him. He had been working on her pussy for the thirty minutes she had sat at the vanity.
Her pussy was wet and tingling. Jason loved to service her with his mouth. Of course, if he hadn't, he would never have become her body slave in the first place.
Sheila reached between her legs. Her fingertip slid beneath her pussy lips, and pressed against the pulsing node of flesh which was her clitoris.
She sighed when she touched herself there. She moved her finger in a slow, circular motion. Jason had aroused her, and she wouldn't need much to make herself come.
She massaged her clitoris. Jason's tongue continued its slow, gentle motion along her labia. From time to time, it slipped inside the lips, and licked their shiny pink interiors. Sheila felt her nipples harden and become erect.
The plunging V neckline of the gown exhibited most of the rounded globes of her breasts. Her breasts jiggled with her slow, deep breathing.
A heatwave rose up from her pussy. Her red lips parted, her eyelids fluttered, and she gasped as she climaxed. The heat rippled through her.
She closed her eyes as the sweetness of her orgasm raced through her.
Below her, Jason took his tongue away from her pussy. Sheila had taught him to take his tongue away from her pussy at the instant she climaxed.
Otherwise, the sensation would be just too intense for her to stand.
She closed her eyes. Her head bent forward, lower and lower, until her forehead rested against the cool surface of the top of her vanity table.
She was motionless for a moment. At last, she stirred herself. She took her hand away from her pussy, and lifted her bottom from the hole in the bench.
Now she could see Jason perfectly. He stared up at her with adoration in his eyes. She said, "That was nice, slave. You may lick my fingers clean for a reward."
She put the hand which had rubbed her pussy down into the hole. She held her fingers together. Jason opened his mouth and she stuck her fingers inside.
Jason closed his puckered lips against her fingers. He took them deep in his mouth. There were other things he could take deep into his throat, too.
His tongue slurped and sucked at her fingers. When she felt that he had cleaned them thoroughly, she removed them from his hot, wet mouth.
His saliva, rather than her pussy juices, now coated her fingers. She wiped them clean on his hair. When they were dry, she patted him on the head.
"I must go and make my rounds now," she said. "After that, I'm liable to be very busy for the rest of the night, so I won't see you until tomorrow."
His face showed his disappointment, but he was too well trained to protest.
Sheila said, T won't untie you, but you'll only be here for an hour or so. Mistress Karla told me she intends to use you later, and I have given her my permission, of course. Someone should be here for you in fifteen minutes to get you ready for the session. Probably, it will be Lucy."
She said sternly, "If you're alone with Lucy, you two had better be good. You know what I mean, Jason. I don't want any fooling around."
"Oh, no, Mistress Justine! I would never do that without your permission!"
Justine was the only name by which he, or anybody else in this part of the country except for Dolly and Mabel, knew Sheila.
She said, "I know that you're a very obedient slave. I also know that Lucy is a hot little temptress, and can lead young men like you astray."
He once more assured her of his fidelity and devotion to her alone.
"Be warned, Jason," she said, "if there's any hanky-panky, the two of you will be strapped down to the bondage board side by side, first thing tomorrow!"
Sheila opened a drawer in her cabinet, and took out a folded black cloth. It was black silk, sheer and insubstantial. When she opened it, red roses could be seen embroidered into the silk. She covered her bench, and Jason, with it.
She looked around her bedroom. It was the biggest room on the third floor. Since her prison stay, she couldn't stand to be confined in small rooms.
They reminded her too much of cells. This room was airy and spacious, and not even the immense, party-sized bed in it could make the room seem small.
An eight foot tall cabinet stood against a wall. Sheila went to it. She walked with long, confident strides, her legs flashing through her slit skirt.
She opened the cabinet. It was filled from top to bottom with whips, footgear, and devices of punishment and restraint, her own favorite toys.
She went through the cabinet. She wouldn't need to bring much, since every room in the house was equipped with its own complement of similar devices.
She selected one of her personal favorites, a three foot long rod. The rod was a treasured antique, and originated in 19th century Victorian England.
She knew some of its history. It had been owned by a woman who owned a celebrated house of flagellation, where eminent Victorian gentlemen came to be whipped.
It was a yard long, and seemed to made of ivory. It was actually fashioned from one of the bones of a whale. It was long, thin, flexible, and whippy.
The handgrip was covered with snakeskin, and a thin leather thong pierced the handled knob. Sheila slipped the thong around her wrist.
She took a last look around the room to see if she had forgotten anything. She hadn't. She exited the room, shut the door, and went down the hall.
She decided to look in on Dolly first.
She removed her ring of keys from her leather belt, and unlocked the door to the nursery. The pink walls were soothing and tranquil.
Dolly was sleeping, but she woke when she heard the door open. When she saw that it was Sheila, she eagerly sat up. She clutched the bars and peered through them.
"Oh, Mistress, I'm so glad that it's you!" Dolly gurgled.
"Dolly, my love. Wait a minute, and I'll unlock your crib." Sheila used her key to open the padlock. She opened the lid, folding it down on its hinges so that it lay alongside the crib rail. She lowered the rails.
Dolly was naked, except for her diaper. Her face was flushed with sleep, but her eyes were wide and alert. Her small breasts with their pink nipples jiggled.
She wrapped her arms around the dominatrix's shoulders as Sheila bent down. Sheila pulled her hands away gently, and moved them down to Dolly's sides.
"Careful, baby," Sheila said. "You don't want to muss my make-up."
"I'm sorry, Mistress!" Dolly said. "Are you going to punish me?"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Sheila chuckled. "No, dear, I'm afraid that I won't be able to do that tonight. But don't pout, honey. I'm going to do something that will make you feel fine, if you can only wait a minute."
Dolly's soft, silky blonde hair was tied in a pair of ponytails on the sides of her head. Sheila pressed her lips on the girl's forehead. Her lipstick left a faint red imprint on Dolly's smooth forehead. She fondled Dolly's breasts.
Gurgling happily, Dolly flopped down on her back and opened her legs.
"My, you are horny tonight," Sheila said, "but I'll have that taken care of."
Dolly had presented something of a problem to Sheila after the prison break.
Unlike Sheila and Mabel, Dolly wasn't tough and hard inside. She was a soft, sweet, simple girl whose teenage husband had been stupid enough to involve her in a bank robbery. He had been shot dead during the hold-up, while she was sentenced to a lengthy prison term. Sheila was fond of the girl, but didn't want to risk her newfound freedom and identity by having Dolly betray her through ignorance or weakness. She had thought hard and long before coming up with a solution.
Dolly was ultra-submissive and docile, and that gave Sheila the idea. She resolved to take those submissive tendencies in Dolly, and maximize them.
She began by controlling every facet of Dolly's existence, truly turning her into a human doll. She fed the girl, washed her, and treated her as childishly as possible, as though Dolly was a very little girl who always needed supervision.
Dolly hadn't resented this treatment, she had welcomed it. At first, she had been a bit confused, especially when Sheila had weaned her off solid foods, and fed her lots of milk and baby foods.
But she hadn't really resisted. And, on the rare occasions that she tried to fight her infantilization, Sheila punished her as a baby, not an adult.
Instead of whipping her, Sheila would take the girl over her lap and give her a bottom warming with her hand, and a stern, maternal scolding.
After these punishment sessions, Sheila would kiss away Dolly's tears with lots of oral sex, fondling, and gentle stimulation.
She molded Dolly, making her more and more dependent on her. A milestone in her transformation to babyhood was when Sheila began controlling her bodily functions.
Sheila would dress in rubber, take the naked girl across her lap, and give her a warm, soapy enema. She would humiliate her with lots of baby talk.
She forced Dolly to drink lots of fluids just before bedtime, then bind her to a rubber sheeted bed for the duration of the night.
Although Dolly fought it at first, Sheila merely kept the girl restrained to the bed for so long that Dolly finally had to wet herself.
Sheila began keeping Dolly in plastic pants and diapers. Dolly's soft blue eyes wept tears of shame and confusion, especially since Sheila rewarded her for babyish behavior, and punished her for any reversion to adult or even adolescent ways.
Mabel, too, assisted Sheila in this transformation. For hours at a time, she would require Dolly to nurse at her huge, overwhelming breasts.
Sheila really couldn't begin this program until the three of them had a safe and permanent refuge from the state they had served time in.
Luckily, money wasn't a problem. Sheila had a great deal of funds tucked away in bank accounts all over the country, under various false identities.
She had planned on saving the money for a rainy day. When she broke prison, she used this money. She knew it wouldn't take her long to make more of it.
After all, she was a dominatrix supreme-a highly skilled and paid professional.
After the trio had broken out of jail, Sheila had many of her former slaves to call on. They sheltered Sheila and her friends, and felt honored to do so.
Finally, Sheila had been able to bribe a corrupt county coroner to certify that she was dead. The manhunt-or womanhunt, in her case-was called off.
She could once more begin her career as a dominatrix.
The three of them had gone north, far north, where no one knew them. Sheila's plastic surgery had altered her face so that few of her old friends would know her.
She had found this city in a Northeastern industrial state. It was perfect for her purposes. It was a crumbling inner city surrounded by a belt of industry. Beyond it were the suburbs, where she created her house of domination.
A great deal of money was required to pay off the many corrupt officials who gave her protection and the ability to operate without fear of arrest.
In the two years she had lived here, there had been only one hassle with the law. That was when a greedy inspector tried to shake her down for more cash.
And that was what her revenge tonight would be all about. She had a score to settle. She had bided her time for the right moment. Tonight was it.
But she had more immediate concerns to take care of-such as Dolly.
Dolly still lay on her back. She fondled her pussy through her diapers.
Sheila moved the girl's hands away. She raised them over Dolly's head and held both hands pinned to the crib mattress, with one of her own hands.
"Were you a good girl?" Sheila asked. "I hope so. I hope you didn't wet yourself, because if you did, I'm not going to be able to give you your reward."
"I was good." Dolly blushed shyly.
"We'll see." Sheila slid her hand beneath Dolly's diaper and the girl's warm flesh. She felt for wetness, and was pleased to find none.
"You were a good girl, Sheila smiled. "So you will get your reward after all. I know that it's one that you're going to love, baby girl."
Sheila crossed the room to an intercom panel set in the wall.
She activated the transmission button, and issued her instructions.
Five minutes later, a knock sounded on the door. Where Sheila was concerned, all the staff in the house, slaves and masters alike, knocked before entering the room.
She gave permission for the newcomers to enter. There were two of them, a man and a young woman. He was a dominant, and she was submissive.
Victor was his name. He was in his early thirties. He was of medium height, with a lean, wiry, hairy body. He wore conventional street clothes.
Sue was her name. She was in her early twenties. She was short and buxom, with a round smiling face, big breasts, and a plump bottom.
She wore a simple one-piece white dress which covered her from her shoulders to her ankles. Her small feet were shod with rubber soled sandals.
Even though Victor was a dominant, he joined Sue in bowing to Sheila. There were many dominants in the mansion, but only one dominatrix supreme-Sheila.
She gave them permission to rise. Like everybody else, they knew her only as Mistress Justine, the new identity she had built for herself.
Sheila said, "Baby is in need of stimulation tonight. See what you can do for her."
Victor said, "A pleasure, Mistress."
He and Sue took off their clothes. His lean body was covered with black hair. His member was thick and strong, and was already stiffening as he took down his pants.
Sue's nipples were dark brown, and the size of thimbles. They jutted from the white mounds of her breasts. Her roseates were wider than silver dollars.
Her midriff was thick, but her breasts and hips were much wider, giving her an old-fashioned hourglass figure which Sheila knew Dolly loved.
This was one of the beneficial side effects of Dolly's reversion to babyhood. Now that she was an adult infant, Dolly was free of all feelings of shame or inhibition.
The result was that she had a voracious sexual appetite.
Victor and Sue would try to satisfy it. Victor was a stud, and Sue was nymphomaniacal, but Sheila would bet that Dolly would exhaust them both and cry for more.
Sheila took Dolly out of her diapers. She pulled down the plastic pants and unpinned the diapers themselves and left Dolly completely naked.
Dolly folded her legs under her and sat up, her pert breasts bobbing. Victor and Sue came to her crib, and began fondling and caressing her.
Victor sprouted a thick erection, a red handle of flesh jutting from his hips. Dolly grabbed it and bent down and took it into her mouth and sucked it.
She slurped and sucked it wetly and greedily. Sue came around to the other side of the crib. She came up behind Dolly, who was now on her hands and knees.
Sue caressed Dolly's dangling breasts, pinching the nipples erect. She pressed her face against Dolly's rounded bottom and covered it with kisses.
Sue's breasts rubbed Dolly's thighs. She parted the girl's bottom cheeks, extended her tongue, and licked a long, wet line down the crack of her ass.
She tongued a circle around Dolly's tiny anus. Dolly loved to have things inserted into her rectum, and Sue obliged her by thrusting her tongue inside.
Dolly gobbled at Victor's cock. He fondled her breasts, rolling the stiff nipples in his fingers. Saliva drooled down Dolly's chin.
Sheila said, "I can see that you'll get along fine without me!"
Knowing she was leaving her Dolly in good hands, she exited the nursery.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was Friday night-a busy night at Mistress Sheila's house of domination and submission. A variety of scenes were taking place in the house.
Down in Gretel's room, Richard Carlton dressed slowly. Even his slightest move made waves of agonizing pain surge through his abused, beaten bottom.
He stepped gingerly into his shorts and pulled them up. He took a long time putting the shorts over his buttocks. He moaned and groaned.
There was a continuous low humming sound. It came from the cordless electric vibrator which Gretel was using for her amusement while Richard dressed.
The vibrator was eight inches long, streamlined, with a bullet shaped head. It was flesh colored. Gretel rubbed it against her breasts.
Her nipples stiffened. For one of the first times that evening, a look of real pleasure came over her face. Her eyes were slits, and her mouth was open.
She parted her legs, and moved the humming vibrator down her body. She pressed its smooth plastic head against her pussy lips, which had been tongued clean.
She looked up and said, "Richard."
He stopped dressing and looked at her. She said, "Don't forget-the next time you visit me, which will be the same time as usual, one week from tonight, you're going to have company. You're going to watch one of my favorite slaves, a real stud, make love to me. You'll beg to be allowed to join in. Perhaps I'll let you, or perhaps I won't, depending on what my mood is at theat time."
"Yes, Mistress Gretel." His face was unhappy, but his member throbbed with heated excitement.
In another room down the hall, Mistress Karla was keeping company with a husband and wife who had come to the house to have their needs fulfilled.
Karla was a sharp-featured, gray-eyed brunette of medioum height. She was in her early thirties. She wore a bra, garter belt, panties, stockings, and high heels.
Her breasts were lush and conical, and her uplift bra made them arch upward like the warheads of a pair of missiles. Her nipples were blunt pink buttons.
They pressed against the black lace cups of the bra she wore. Karla's complexion was dark and glowing, like olive oil. Her black hair fell to her shoulders.
Her visitors were Bill and Marcy. They were attractive, sharp, and intelligent. They were also very kinky, and they had come to indulge their desires.
Bill was in his middle thirties. His shirt was off, and he was bare from the waist up. He had a square shaped torso, strong and solid.
His features were ruggedly handsome. His short, light brown hair was neatly clipped. He wore a pair of gray slacks which were tight across his bottom.
Marcy was pert and pretty. She had brown hair with blonde highlights, a heart shaped face, breasts like pears, a narrow waist, and a wide bottom.
Marcy was in bondage. Karla had just finished binding Marcy spread-eagled to the bed. Marcy looked frightened and excited. Her breasts jiggled.
She could see herself. There was a mirror mounted on the ceiling over the bed.
Her breasts were plump, with fat pink nipples and wide roseates. Her hips were wide. Her thighs were thick and strong, her calves were shapely, and her ankles were slender. Stiff leather cuffs with padding on the insides encircled each of. her wrists and ankles. Attached to the cuffs were chains, which were bolted to the bedposts.
Bill had just watched Karla spank his wife. He loved to dominate Marcy at home. Recently, the thrill had faded somewhat, and wasn't as exciting as it once had been.
Searching for new thrills, they had come to Mistress Justine, whom they, like everyone else, thought was the real name of Sheila Ryan.
Bill's cock was hard. It bulged in the crotch of his trousers, thrusting painfully against the fabric. His balls were heavy and swollen.
He squeezed his member through his pants. Karla stood at the bedside. She bent over Marcy. Marcy whimpered softly, and rocked her hips on the plush mattress.
Karla held Marcy's breasts and squeezed them together, plumping them up. She opened her mouth, and extended a long pink tongue between her red lips.
The tongue teasingly glided over Marcy's nipples. The nipples became erect, and glistened with Karla's saliva. Karla nibbled on the nipples.
Her glossy red lipstick left faint imprints on Marcy's flesh. Karla pushed the kinky housewife's nipples closely together, and took them both in her mouth at the same time. The corners of her red lips stretched as she sucked the twin nipples.
Simultaneously, she reached across Marcy's belly and fondled her pussy. Marcy was thickly bushed. Her pubic hair was a deep rich brown shade.
After a moment, Karla took her mouth away. The breasts, released, glided apart from each other. The nipples were stiff pink points on the soft white breasts.
Karla went away from Marcy. She returned a moment later with some clothespins. Marcy whimpered and pulled at the chains which held her bound and spread.
Karla stroked Marcy's thighs and breasts. She took a nipple between her thumb and index finger, and fastened a wooden clothespin on it.
She did the same thing to Marcy's other nipple. Karla took a pinch of soft white bosom flesh and pulled it, stretching it away from the lush fleshy globe.
She pinned another clothespin on the breast itself. She repeated this process until there were at least eight clothespins on Marcy's bosom.
She did it slowly. After she pinned each new clothespin on, Karla would kiss and fondle the housewife until she once more sighed with desire.
After she had taken care of Marcy's breasts, Karla turned her attention to the area between Marcy's legs. Karla perched her rounded bottom on the mattress.
She gripped Marcy's left labia, and pulled it to one side. Sleek, slippery pink membranes were exposed. Karla fastened a clothespin on the pussy hp.
Marcy's muscles were taut under her smooth skin. She made faint gasping sounds as the clothespins were attached to her. Bill moved closer to the bed.
Karla halted. Now, many clothespins were jutting out from Marcy's breasts and pussy and smooth inner thighs. Karla reached behind her back and unhooked her bra.
She stood up, her big breasts tumbling free of the lacy cups. Bill came up behind her and embraced her. Marcy watched with hot, hungry eyes.
Bill put his hands on Karla's breasts. Her nipples peeped through his fingers. He squeezed them gently, pinching them erect. Karla pulled down her panties.
Her pubic bush was as black as coal. It nearly covered her thick, wet pussy lips. Her plump ass was formed from a pair of smooth, rounded cheeks.
She moved backward, rubbing her buttocks against Bill's groin. His cock, already thickly stiff, throbbed in response to the sensual pressure.
After a moment, the two of them broke the embrace. There was still much to do to degrade and humiliate Marcy. They set about doing it.
Karla knelt on the mattress between Marcy's spread legs. Her stockings rustled against the sheets. She teasingly pulled on the clothespins attached to Marcy's pussy.
Bill moved up to the head of the bed. Marcy was confused, and didn't know where to look first-at her husband, or at the dominatrix between her legs.
Karla pressed her tongue tip against Marcy's clitoris. The button of flesh was exposed, since the clothespins held the pussy lips spread open.
Marcy sobbed and shivered. Karla flicked her tongue across the clitoris. The inner pink membranes were as bright as the inside of a seashell.
The sound of a zipper being pulled down caught Marcy's attention. She turned her head, and saw her husband take down his pants and let them drop to his feet.
His member popped up, once it was free on the restraining confines of his pants. It was long and thick, with a red shaft and a bullet shaped head.
It quivered and jerked as he stroked it. His thighs were hairy and muscular. His rounded, firm buttocks were tightly clenched.
He knelt on the bed near her head, his knees dimpling the mattress. His cock loomed over Marcy's head. Karla's tonguing left her aroused and trembling.
Juices dripped from her pussy membranes. Karla lapped them up.
Bill took hold of Marcy's hair and twisted some strands around his hand. He pulled upward, lifting her head. He leaned over her. Marcy opened her mouth wide.
Bill stuffed his cock head between her lips. His member pulsed as it was enveloped by her hot, wet mouth. She puckered her pink lips against his blue-veined shaft.
She worked her tongue against the underside of his cock, whipping it back and forth. She was wet and sloppy, since that was the way he liked it.
She took his member deep in her throat. His cock head bumped against the back of it. He inched backward, then rubbed his cock head against the roof of her mouth.
Marcy was being used at both ends. Karla's skilled mouth was fastened on her spread pussy, and was licking intense pleasure into her heated clitoris.
Bill was fucking Marcy's mouth. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked his penis.
Down the hall, a city councilman named Breen was being served by two slave girls.
Breen was fat and fiftyish. The slaves' names were Lois and Cherry. Lois was a petite blonde who looked like a very young teenager.
Cherry was a plump brunette with busom breasts and a big bottom.
The slave girls knelt on the floor, facing each other, bound together.
Lois was in her early twenties, but her light bone structure and childish features made her look ten years younger. Her breasts were small, tiny mounds of budding flesh with nipples that were like pink buttons pasted on her bosom.
She was very thin. Breen could span her shoulder with his hand. Her hair was worn in a pair of braids which hung down her back.
She was so thin, that her ribs could be seen beneath her flesh. Her hipbones were sharp, jutting, and prominent. Her pussy lips were thin and delicate.
Cherry was roughly the same age as Lois, but she was a big girl. Her hair was chestnut brown, and very curly and long. It fell to the middle of her back.
Her breasts were full and oversized, with fat nipples. Her waist was thick but not fat. Her bottom was abundant, with soft rolls of excess flesh rippling at the bottoms of the cheeks. Her thighs were smooth. Her skin was pink and shining.
Breen wore black leather bikini panties, and held a black leather paddle.
He was a red-faced, round-faced man with bushy eyebrows and a meatball nose. He was unlovely, but he was a big wheel in the local town government.
His session with Cherry and Lois was a freebie. Sheila often did this for those members of the power structure whose good graces she had to stay in.
It wasn't costing her anything. After all, the two girls were slaves, and slaves by definition do whatever their mistress tells them to do.
Breen had sloping shoulders, once-muscular arms which had gone soft, and a spreading beer belly. His ass was thick and fat, while his legs were thin and spindly.
His cock was hard. His black leather bikini panties were stretched tightly across his wide hips, so tightly that they cut into the flesh.
He had tied Lois and Cherry together. The slave girls were on their knees on the floor. Both their hands were tied behind their backs.
Their fronts were pressed together. Cherry's splendidly big breasts overwhelmed Lois' tiny ones, and the smaller bosom was hidden by the larger.
They both were naked, and the hairs of their pubic bushes were intermingled. Lois' thin pussy lips pressed against Cherry's thick, soft, full ones.
Ropes encircled their bodies, binding them together. Breen had bound them tightly, so the thin but tough ropes cut into the girls' soft flesh.
The paddle he held looked like an oversized ping-pong paddle covered with shiny black leather. Its thick handle was shaped like a dildo, and its knobbed tip looked like the blunt head of a a cock. Breen gripped it and circled the girls.
Both Cherry and Lois' bottom glowed bright red. Breen moved around them, paddling first one and then the other. By now, both sets of buttocks were crimson and hot.
Breen put his hands on the backs of the girls' heads and pushed them together. Cherry and Lois kissed with their mouths open and their tongues fencing.
While they kissed, he returned to paddling them. The room ran with the sound of the broad leather paddle striking soft bottom flesh.
He reached into his leather panties and stroked his cock while he wielded the paddle. As he struck them, Cherry and Lois moaned while they kissed.
Breen paused. Soon he would untie them, and move on to other more intimate games.
He tried to decide who he would fuck first-Lois, or Cherry? There was much to be said in favor of either one, depending on his mood at the moment.
Lois was like a little girl. She would plead for mercy in a faint, sobbing whisper. Her pussy was narrow and very tight, and felt like heaven.
Cherry, on the other hand, had fantastic big breasts, smooth as satin and soft as butter. Breen loved to suck and bite her breasts while he raped her pussy.
Oh well, he told himself, in the long run it didn't matter, because he would certainly fuck both of them before he left this little room.
In another room, at the end of the hall in the western wing on the second floor, Mistress Maureen was giving a punishment enema to a forty-five year old man.
This was the medical room. The design made it look like a doctor's examining room. The walls were covered with pale green tiles which reached from the floor to the shoulder height of a six foot individual.
There was a leather covered examining table, a stainless steel cart with instruments and devices on it, a scale for measuring weight, a stainless steel sink, and a toilet. The toilet was not in a separate room, but was in full view, in the corner.
The patient was a successful, silver-haired stockbroker named Stanton.
Stanton had a thin, bony face. His eyebrows and thin moustache were white. There were tiny broken veins in his nose and cheeks from too much drinking.
Maureen was young enough to be his daughter, but that only added to his humiliation. He was a submissive who loved to be dominated by younger girls.
He was nude, and strapped face down on the examining table. A pale brown rubber sheet covered the table, and his front was pressed against it.
He was strapped down. A canvas restraining strap ran across his upper back. His arms were behind his back, and leather cuffs manacled his hands together.
Another leather strap ran across the small of his back, and a third strap crossed over the backs of his thighs, just below the cheeks of his ass.
His buttocks glowed bright red from the strapping which Maureen had just given him. She had whipped his ass until he tearfully sobbed for mercy.
Maureen was nude from the waist up, with a few small exceptions. A stiff, starched white nurse's cap was pinned to the top of her red head, which was coiled into a prim bun. A pair of pink rubber gloves covered her hands to the elbows.
Her breasts were bare. She wore the same combination of a black rubber garter belt and black latex stockings which she had worn earlier, when she went to see Dolly.
This time, she wore a pink rubber apron with a ruffled white rubber hem. The apronstrings were tied in a knotted bow at the small of her back.
Once more, she was nude between the garter belt and stocking tops. Her pussy was wet and dripping beneath the rubber apron. The rubber soles of her white shoes squeaked as she wheeled a portable metal stand across the floor.
Attached to the metal stand was a red rubber enema bag. It was filled with a solution of hot, soapy water. She moved it close to the examining table.
Stanton lay with his head turned to one side on the rubber sheet. Maureen unlocked the snaps of the canvas restraining straps. They dangled down from the table.
She put her rubber gloved hands on him and turned him so that he lay on his left side. She put her hand between his legs, and gripped his member.
It was stiff, red, and jutting. She felt the veins throbbing along the shaft. Delicately she fondled his swollen balls, making him moan.
She made him bend his right leg at the knee. She took a jar of lubricant from the nearby equipment cart. She unscrewed the lid and took out a fingerful of goo.
The lubricating jelly was oily and pale white. Stanton gasped as she put her hands on his punished buttocks and parted them, exposing his anus.
She smeared the lubricant in the crack of his ass, stuffing it into his anus, which was brown and wrinkled. His eyes widened with shocked surprise as she shoved her index finger inside his ass. She stretched his membranes from inside.
She took her finger out. Lubricant glistened on the finger. She took some more of it, and smeared it on the enema nozzle, which was six inches long and. made of flexible white plastic. The nozzle was very thick, and resembled a dildo.
His puckered anus contracted as she pressed the tip of the nozzle against it. His voice had a wavering, breathless gasp as she penetrated him with the nozzle.
It pushed past his tight sphincter ring and into his rectum, deep. She pushed it into him until the nozzle's base pressed against his anal ring.
She released the valve on the bag, and the solution gurgled down the tubes.
The hot, soapy water gurgled down the tube, and into Stanton. Maureen stood over him, controlling the rate of flow of the water, speeding it up and slowing it down.
His stiff penis jerked and quivered in response to the fluid entering him. Slowly and surely, his belly began to stretch and swell as the fluid filled his bowels.
Sweat broke out on his forehead. He complained of cramps. Maureen halted the flow of water, and massaged his stomach. She also massaged his cock.
She gripped it in her gloved hand, which was smeared with lubricant. She closed her fist around his member, then kneaded it, pulling and pushing it.
She continued to masturbate him until his shaft was hot and bright red. She could feel the heat of it through the thin ruhber palm of her glove.
She halted well before she brought him to the climax. She opened the valve of the bag, and filled him with the fluid, emptying the bag of its last drops.
Long before he was filled, Stanton whined about the pressure inside him, and begged to be allowed to get up and go to the toilet.
Maureen just laughed. When he was filled, she parted his buttocks and withdrew the nozzle from inside his ass. His puckered anus seemed to want to hold on to it.
It was not empty for long. Right in the middle of a tearful plea to be allowed to void himself, Stanton was surprised and shocked to discover himself being penetrated.
The instrument which entered his ass this time was a butt plug. It was shorter and thicker than the enema nozzle. Maureen jammed it snugly in place.
Then she helped him down from the table. She took him by the ear and marched him to the toilet. He walked hunched foreward, his thighs squeezed together.
His hopes of a quick release were soon disappointed.
Instead of pulling the plug out of his rectum and sitting him down on the toilet seat, Maureen lowered the white plastic toilet lid and perched her bare bottom on it.
She lifted her pink rubber apron, bunching it up around her waist, exposing her naked pussy. She spread her rubber stockinged legs wide open.
Her legs were the sections of a rubber V whose apex was her brick red pussy and her pink slit. She took hold of his stiff cock in her rubber gloved hands.
She pulled downward, forcing him to his knees. He stared at her pusssy.
She interrupted his stammering plea for mercy with a hard slap on the face.
She informed him that she would not remove the plug and let him void himself until he had tongued her pussy to orgasm. She pulled his head between her legs.
The cramps in his belly were painful, but Stanton had no choice but to obey.
Upstairs in the nursery, Victor, Sue, and Dolly formed a threesome. Their sweating bodies writhed and intertwined. They were grouped on the crib bed.
Sue lay on her back, with her legs bent. Dolly's mouth was fastened to her pussy. Saliva and pussy juices were smeared on Dolly's red face.
She flicked her tongue back and forth on Sue's throbbing clitoris. Her arms stretched across Sue's belly, and she gripped Sue's big breasts, clutching one in each hand. As she ate pussy, Dolly fondled and squeezed the soft breasts and their stiff nipples. Sue reached under Dolly and pinched her stiff nipples.
Victor knelt behind Dolly. His stiff, long penis was buried deep in her dripping pussy. Dolly's pussy was tight, and his member was thick, so it fit snugly in her.
His broad hands were wrapped around her slender, soft hips. Dolly rocked back and forth, moving her pussy in response to his deep, surging thrusts.
Dolly's rounded bottom rubbed against Victor's hairy thighs and hips. He rocked back and forth, his face calm and composed, his body wild and animalistic.
His cock was red and hot when it emerged from between her swollen pussy lips as he moved backward. He kept only his knobbed cock head in her pussy.
Then he would thrust forward, burying his rigid shaft deep into her, so that the fleshy cock head bumped against the gaping mouth of her womb.
Victor reached under her hips. His fingers parted her dripping pussy lips and found her clitoris and massaged it as he fucked her. His closed eyes flicked open as he heard a high, wailing moan. It wasn't Dolly, it was Sue. Dolly's wildly whipping tongue had brought her to the climax.
Victor's fingers were a blur of motion against her clitoris. He rocked back and forth, fucking her. Fat drops of sweat rolled off his straining body.
He wanted her to come, but as good as he was, he couldn't hold back forever. And Dolly was more sexually insatiable than him and Sue combined.
His hands tightened on her hips. The pink flesh whitened where his fingers dug into it. Holding her in place, he shoved into her and kept his cock buried deep.
His head beat back and forth as he came. His open mouth took up half his face as he moaned. Semen jetted from his cock head in gushing spurts.
His body went stiff as stone when he came. He let out his breath in a gasping moan. He relaxed. His bones felt like jelly. He looked like a balloon with the air being let out of it. He couldn't continue-he had to rest, and so did Sue-but Dolly begged for more,.
CHAPTER NINE
While all that sexual activity was taking place in the mansion, Sheila Ryan and Mabel put on their overcoats and went outside.
Sheila left Mistress Gretel in charge of the house. She and Mabel went out the back door and followed a narrow path to the garage.
Sheila wore a black leather coat with a silver fur collar. Skin-tight black leather gloves covered her hands. Her boot heels clicked on the stones.
There was a blue sedan in the garage. Mabel opened the back door, and Sheila got in the back seat. Mabel got behind the wheel and started the engine.
It was eight o'clock at night. The moonless sky was clear and black, and sprinkled with stars. There was a wintry chill in the air.
Mabel drove to the nearest airport. She parked the sedan in a lot, and she and Sheila got out of it and walked to a dark green late model car.
The door was unlocked. Sheila lifted the floor mat. The key to the trunk and ignition was there. She handed it to Mabel, who got behind the wheel.
She started the car. Sheila got in the back seat. The car drove away.
The green car was stolen. Sheila had gotten it from one of her underworld connections. She needed a car which couldn't be traced to her.
She and Mabel were on an errand of vengeance.
Mabel guided the car to residential district near the local college. The district was filled with old three-family houses where students roomed. Mabel halted the car in front of a certain house, and honked the horn.
A moment passed. Then a light was turned on over the porch. The front door opened, and a college coed came down the stairs, crossed the walk, and came to the car.
Sheila opened the door, and the girl slid into the back seat. She was lovely. She was eighteen years old,.slender and willowy, with chestnut brown hair.
Mabel drove away without a word. She headed the car toward the highway.
The girl's long brown hair fell to the middle of her back, and was parted in the center, so that the long wavy tresses framed her pale, oval face.
Her face was wide and expressive. Her brows were dark, her wide eyes were soft and sympathetic, and her wide pink lips were curved in a shy but eager smile.
She wore a fur coat which reached to the middle of her calves. It was open. Under it she wore a beige sweater and a black skirt which reached her knees.
Her breasts were firm and pointed. Her tummy was flat, but her hips were lushly curved. Her long, luscious legs were her best feature.
Sheila embraced the girl, murmuring, "Valerie, my darling ... "
Valerie tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth to be kissed. Sheila pressed her red lips against Valerie's, and put her tongue in the girl's mouth.
She rubbed her tongue against Valerie's. She probed inward, tasting the spicy sweetness of the teenager's saliva. Her hand glided inside Valerie's coat.
She fondled Valerie's breasts through her sweater. The girl wasn't wearing a bra. She didn't need to. Her breasts were as firm as ripe plums.
Sheila felt the nipples harden under her fingers. Valerie made soft moaning sounds as Sheila kissed her. Sheila rested her hand on the girl's knee.
She slid the girl's skirt upward, exposing her thighs.
Flesh colored stockings sheathed Valerie's long legs. Sheila moved the skirt up to the top of her thighs, revealing the fact that Valerie wore nylons.
The dark tops of the nylons had metal garter tabs pinned on them. Over the garter belt, Valerie wore a pair of pink lace panties which hugged her hips.
As she kissed the girl, Sheila pushed her legs open. She stroked Valerie's smooth inner thighs where they emerged from the stocking tops. Sheila kept her gloves on.
The girl's pussy was outlined against the lacy panties. The panties were partially transparent, due to the delicacy of the exquisite embroidery work. Her tufted pubic bush could be seen through the gaps in the lacy panties.
Sheila broke off the kiss. Some of her red lipstick had smeared on Valerie's mouth. Valerie was breathless, and red spots rose in her cheeks.
Mabel drove the car up the entrance ramp of the highway, and headed north.
Valerie asked shyly, "Where are we going, Sheila?"
"A place where you and I can be alone for the entire weekend," Sheila said. "Did you tell any of your little friends what you would be doing?"
"Oh no," Valerie said. "My friends don't know anything about you. They're all just kids, and really square and straight. They wouldn't understand."
Sheila patted the girl's stockinged thighs. "But we understand, don't we? I see that you're wearing the garments I bought for you-the garter belt and stockings."
"Yes. I wear them all the time, in class and everything. That way, I'm always thinking of you. And they're really great. They make me feel so, so, so sinful!"
"Yes," Sheila chuckled. "I know exactly what you mean, dear."
Valerie asked, "I only brought what I'm wearing, Sheila. Will I have enough clothes?"
"For this weekend, dear, you'll have more than enough clothes. You won't need, clothes, not for what we're going to be doing."
Valerie blushed. Sheila said, "In fact, to my way of thinking, you've got too many clothes on already." She tugged at Valerie's panties.
"Let's take these off," Sheila said as she pulled the panties down.
Valerie's bush was a dark, rich shade of brown. The edges of her pubic bush were neatly trimmed, and her pussy lips were pink and soft and full, a flower of flesh.
Valerie lifted her bottom so Sheila could remove the panties. Sheila pulled them down the girl's slender stockinged legs, to her narrow ankles.
Valerie wore a pair of red patent leather high heels. Sheila had personally selected them for the girl. Valerie was lovely, but the youthful innocence of her face reminded Sheila of a little girl trying on her mother's clothes.
Sheila laughed to herself. Before this night was done, Valerie would be trying a lot more than she had ever tried before. She would be forced to serve!
Sheila opened her pocketbook and put the pink lace panties inside them.
Valerie giggled. "My bottom is pressing right against my fur coat. It tickles!"
"I'll tickle you!" Sheila put her hand between the girl's legs. She rubbed her fingers, which were in the black leather glove, against Valerie's labia.
After a moment, Valerie sighed heavily. She leaned back against the seat cushions, and enjoyed the erotic stimulation which Sheila's artful caresses brought her.
Sheila slipped her finger between the pussy lips, which spread to the sides and flashed pink as the black leather finger penetrated her.
"Sheila, you are so wicked!" Valerie moaned with delight, as the dominatrix finger-fucked her.
Sheila kept the middle finger of her left hand in the girl. She pressed the index finger of her right hand against the girl's clitoris.
She pressed her fingertip against the pearl of pink flesh. Her finger looked like a black leather arrow pointing out the girl's clitoris.
Sheila massaged the clitoris, moving her finger in a slow, circular motion. She pushed her middle finger in and out of Valerie's pussy.
Valerie moaned. Her hair fell across her face, partially veiling it. She gripped the armrest on the car door for support. Her hips rocked in response to the fingering.
Valerie breathed faster and faster as Sheila increased the rate and force of the erotic stimulation. Her mouth opened in a constant moan.
Sheila brought the girl to orgasm. Valerie groaned. She squeezed her thighs together. Sleek nylons pressed against soft black leather.
Valerie let her thighs fall open. Her pussy was dripping wet. Sheila took her hand out from between Valerie's legs. The gloved fingers glistened with juices.
Sheila lifted her finger to her face and stuck out her tongue and licked some of the secretions off it. The pussy juice tingled on her tongue.
Valerie whispered, "Sheila, you are the best! Nobody-but nobody-ever made me feel the way that you do. You get me so hot, I can't stand it!"
Sheila said, "If you think that was nice, wait until later. That was only a little sneak preview of what you've got to look forward to this weekend."
Valerie started to pull down her skirt, but Sheila said, "No. No, don't cover yourself, darling. You're lovely, and I love to look at you."
Mabel drove north for a half-hour, into a remote rural section.
There were less cars on the road here. Whenever a car passed them, the interior of Sheila's car would fill up with light, revealing Valerie's pale white thighs, her dark brown bush, her black garter belt, and her stockings.
At first, Valerie was nervous, and she kept tugging at her skirt to pull it down. But Sheila wouldn't permit that. She held the skirt bunched up at Valerie's waist, keeping her exposed, and sometimes fondling her pussy as a car went by.
After a while, Valerie got used to the treatment, and soon began to get a thrill from it. She actually began fondling her pussy when a car approached.
"What a wicked little girl you are!" Sheila said.
"You made me that way," Valerie retorted.
"Some old-fashioned discipline would do you good, child. What you really need is to be taken over my knee and spanked! Maybe I'll do that-later."
"I wouldn't mind," Valerie confessed. "Anything you do is all right with me."
In some ways, Valerie reminded Sheila of Dolly. Of course, Valerie was more intelligent. But they were both soft and vulnerable and innocent.
For a moment, Sheila darkly remembered the woman's prison. Someone like Valerie would be eaten up alive in a place like that, just as Dolly had been.
Sheila liked Valerie, genuinely liked her. She would enjoy enslaving the girl. And it would all serve the purpose of her revenge, which would soon take place.
Valerie's full name was Valerie Teece. Her father was former Inspector Mack Teece, a crooked cop who used to be a big wheel on the police force of the town where the mansion was located. It was he who was the target of Sheila's revenge.
But her revenge would be carried out through his children.
When Sheila first went into business as Mistress Justine, she had had to pay a fortune in bribes to police and town government officials.
She had paid off the mayor, the chief of police, and the captain of detectives. That should have covered it, But Inspector Mack Teece was a greedy man.
Teece wanted to cut himself a piece of the pie. He was a rogue cop, and one night he came to the mansion and tried to shake down her staff for a pay-off.
Business had required that Sheila and Mabel be out of town that night. A dominatrix named Lola had been left in charge of the premises and the slaves.
When Teece came around with his palm out, Lola told him to scram. She knew that Sheila had squared herself with the local power structure.
Teece wasn't entitled to any cash, but he was greedy. Heated words were exchanged, and Teece, a violent man, had pistol whipped Lola across the face.
Her jaw was broken, and she was knocked unconscious. While she lay on the floor, Teece raped one of the slaves. Sheila thanked her dark gods that she had taken Dolly with her on the trip, instead of leaving her at home where Teece could get her.
When Sheila heard about what had happened, she called up the bag man who was the go-between for her and the takers of graft. She burned up the phone lines as she gave him holy hell and demanded that action be taken.
The police chief was sore as hell that Teece tried a shakedown without cutting him in on it. The result was that Teece was forced to retire-at full pay, and with his pension intact. The chief was apologetic, but that was all he could do.
It wasn't enough for Sheila. She planned a revenge of her own. She learned all she could about Teece, his background, and his family.
He was married, with a wife and four children. Two of his children were adults with famihes of their own, and had moved far away, across the country.
But his other two children were in their teens, and lived at home. Valerie was his youngest. He had a son who was three years older than her.
Now, almost three years later, both his kids lived away from the family residence. Valerie attended the local college, while his son went to the state university.
Valerie was lovely, and Sheila would have wanted her in any case. She studied the girl's habits, met her seemingly by chance, befriended her, and seduced her.
Now, Sheila was ready to unleash her vengeance.
Mabel exited the highway, and followed a narrow two-lane road through lonely farm country. She turned the car into a dirt road which led to a farmhouse.
Sheila told Valerie that a friend of hers had loaned her the house for the weekend. Actually, she owned it herself. Its isolation and lonely location, with the nearest neighbors miles down the road, made it perfect for her purposes.
She had already equipped it with some of her devices of punishment and restraint, and had brought some stubborn female slaves out here to break their will.
The place was wonderful. There was no need to "gag a slave. The victim could scream as loudly as he or she liked-there was no one to hear those screams.
There was a sudden silence as Mabel killed the engine. Up here, it was colder than it was near the big city. The trio hurried into the house.
They went into the kitchen. It was ordinary enough, with a table, some chairs, a stove, a refrigerator, a sink, and some cupboards andcabinets.
Mabel took their coats and hung them up. Valerie loved Sheila's outfit.
Sheila still wore the black leather gown she had worn earlier in the evening, at the mansion. It was a good thing that the farmhouse was well heated, because the gown was thin, and didn't cover very much of her.
The kinky outfit captured Valerie's admiring gaze the way a magnet pulls an iron filing to it. Valerie put out her hand and ran it down Sheila's leather covered hip. The girl's eyes were wide and dreamy with lust.
Sheila gently removed Valerie's hand. "We have all weekend for that, honey. What do you say we wash down the dust of that ride with a drink?"
Sheila took two glasses down from the cupboard, and opened a bottle of bourbon. She knew that Valerie didn't like hard alcohol, but she knew she could urge her to do anything. She poured out a pair of stiff shots into the glasses.
She stood at the sink, with her back to Valerie. Valerie didn't see Sheila take a vial from her pocket, and empty the white powder inside it into Valerie's glass.
The powder was a tranquilizing drug. It sapped the will and released the inhibitions, but did not drug the taker into unconsciousness.
It was a handy little item, and Sheila had used it many times. She knew the exact dosage for a girl of Valerie's age and body weight, and she had pre-measured it out before leaving the mansion. Some of the powder floated on the surface of the drink. Sheila used a swizzle stick to stir the drink and mix the powder in.
Sheila set the glasses down on the kitchen table. Valerie giggled. "Sheila, I can't drink that! You know that I'm no drinker! It tastes yeccchy!"
"You're not supposed to sip it, darling," Sheila explained. "You just throw it down with one gulp. Here, I'll do it along with you!"
They picked up their glasses. Sheila toasted, "To your brand-new life!"
They clinked the glasses together, then Sheila showed Valerie how it was done. The dominatrix neatly tossed back her drink, emptying the glass in one gulp.
"Now you try," she urged. Valerie said, "Well, here goes nothing!"
She gulped the drink, and swallowed most of it. Her face turned red, and she choked and sputtered. But that was from the booze, not the drug.
When she recoverd, she said, "Sheila, you are one tough lady! I don't see how you can drink that stuff! It tastes so bitter and nasty!"
"You develop a taste for it," Sheila said. "It's like so many other things-at first, you're sure you can never do them. But it only hurts the first time. And, after you've done them a few times, you learn to love it."
She pushed back her chair, rose, and took Valerie's hand. "Speaking of love, let me show you my little bedroom here. It's very charming."
Sheila and Valerie walked arm and arm through the living room and up the stairs. The bedroom was on the right. Sheila guided the girl into it.
The bed was the major item in the room. It was built on a stout wooden frame, and had a thick cushioned mattress. It was covered with black satin sheets.
There were chains bolted to the bedposts, but Sheila had concealed them. Valerie yawned and stretched, arching her pert, pointed breasts.
"Tired?" Sheila smiled. She knew that the quick-acting drug was taking effect.
Valerie stifled a yawn. "I don't know what's the matter with me. I just ran out of energy! I feel so sleepy in my body, but my mind's wide awake!"
"It's time you were put to bed," Sheila said. "I'll undress you."
Sheila pulled off Valerie's beige sweater. The girl's breasts were firm and high, with stubby pink nipples which became surprisingly long when erect.
Sheila fondled Valerie's breasts. Valerie was nude from the waist up. She closed her eyes, and swayed slightly from side to side.
"You'd better sit down, dear." Sheila took her elbow and guided her to the bed. "Girls like you, who aren't used to alcohol, really shouldn't drink!"
"No, but I can eat!" Valerie giggled. She stuck out her tongue and wiggled it from side to side. She rested her hands on Sheila's leather covered hips.
"What a wicked little girl you are! I said you'd have to be punished."
Valerie's breasts jiggled as she made a silly little laugh. She flopped backward, landing on her back with her arms outstretched. "What are you going to do? Spank me?"
"For starters." Sheila kept her tone light and amused. She unbuttoned Valerie's skirt, and pulled it down off her hips. Now she wore only her garter belt, stockings, and red high heels, all of which had been bought for her by Sheila.
Sheila got on the bed. Valerie was loose and sprawling. Sheila easily wrestled Valerie face down across her lap. Valerie didn't resist. Her naked pussy pressed against the cool, slick leather of the gown. Her bare breasts rubbed leather thighs.
"Oh, wow!" Valerie said. "You really are gong to spank me!"
"I couldn't think of any bottom I'd rather warm more." Sheila fondled Valerie's buttocks, which were round and ripe and smooth. The twin globes of pale, soft flesh were framed by a black satin garter belt and the dark stocking tops.
Sheila fondled Valerie's buttocks very slowly and sensually. Valerie moaned. Her nipples were erect now, and they rose from her white breasts like the erasers on the ends of. pencils.
Sheila pulled Valerie close to her. The girl's body was smooth and hot. She began spanking her, very lightly at first, teasing her, making her juices flow.
Valerie responded just as Sheila thought she would. She nestled her naked pussy down into Sheila's leather lap. The buttocks rippled and reddened as Sheila's open palm came down, swatting them. Soon, Valerie was squirming and moaning.
Sheila took the girl's hands and placed them on her back, crossing the wrists. She held them pinned down with one hand of her own. She continued the spanking.
Soon, Valerie moaned, "Owww, Sheila! That really hurts!"
"It's supposed to hurt," Sheila said between spanks. "How else will you learn your lesson? You've needed this for a long time, Valerie!"
The pink buttocks became red and warm. It was the lightest of spankings, but Valerie wasn't used to such treatment, and she fussed and whined.
Sheila stopped spanking her. She eased Valerie off her lap. Valerie tried to stand up straight, but the drug hampered her coordination.
She stretched out on the bed. Her unfocused eyes were moist. "You hurt me, Sheila!" Then she said, almost to herself, "I'm drunker than I thought."
Sheila turned the girl over on her back, adjusting Valerie's long, stockinged legs as though they belonged to some life-size doll.
Valerie whimpered as she lay on her spanked bottom, but Sheila sensed the girl's excitement at this new kink.
