Chapter Twenty Four: Detention
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:Author: Gospodin

.. meta::
   :shs-title: The Enslavement of Marie
   :shs-author: Gospodin
   :shs-part: 24
   :shs-keywords: Ff, bond, latex, mc

Marie made it back into the classroom before second bell, and flushed
with embarassment as she was made to grab her ankles and have the
plug removed in front of the whole class.  Her "hall pass" was
disassembled and the intruding part was dropped into a special bin for
cleaning.

Marie sat down, still feeling stretched, and thought dreamily about
Angelica and the orderly while the teacher demonstrated corset lacing
techniques on the front-row students.  Time passed quickly, and soon the
school day was over.  The girls all stood up and headed for the door,
gossipping and chattering.

"Hey girl, you got time to hit the arcade?" Kusako bounced on her
toes.

Marie looked over at the teacher and frowned, "No, sorry.  I'd love to,
but I have an hour of detention first."

Kusako glanced at the schoolmarm nervously from the corner of her eye,
"Oh you poor dear.  Well, I'll wait for you outside in one hour.  Deal?"

Marie smiled, "I'll see you outside."

Kusako grabbed Marie in a bear-hug, squeezing her tightly enough that
both girls' nipple jewelry could be felt through the material of their
shirts.  She kissed Marie sweetly on the lips, flicked Marie's septum
ring playfully with her tongue, and skipped out of the room.

Marie sighed and looked over at the smirking teacher who sat arrogantly
on her oak desk.  The woman's legs were crossed, and she idly tapped a
metal-edged ruler against the palm of her hand.  Melody was already
kneeling beside her in a position that Marie remembered seeing in her
textbook: knees at 90 degrees, hands grasping elbows behind her back,
and her chin to her chest.  Gulping quietly, Marie rushed to kneel
beside the chastised bully.

"Slaves Marie and Melody, you have each earned one hour's detention for
engaging in unauthorized pleasuring...  Slave Melody!"

"Yes ma'am!" Melody blurted in startled reply.

"Slave Melody, since your pussy is so hungry for stimulation, you will
spend your hour on the doghouse!"  The teacher slapped her palm with the
ruler for emphasis.

Melody looked up suddenly in horror, but caught the schoolmarm's glare
and quickly averted her eyes back down to the woman's shoes.

"Slave Marie!" the teacher barked.

"Y-yes ma'am?"

"Slave Marie, since your tongue is so eager to explore, you will spend
your hour exercising it for me.  Both of you!  On your feet!"

Marie reached to the floor to help herself to her feet, but saw that
Melody had risen in a single fluid motion without letting go of her
elbows.  The teacher waved her over to a closet door in the corner of
the room and began to unfold a black latex garment on the desk.

Marie stood watching as she saw what looked like a hood built into a
pair of hotpants.  No explanation was given, however, as the teacher
pulled off Marie's wig and began to unroll the slick sheath around her
head.  Blackness engulfed her, and she held her breath until she felt
air through the mass of rubber at her lips.

When her eyes found their holes, Marie noticed that Melody had removed
her shoes and was kneeling in front of what looked like a doghouse on a
wheeled platform.  Two stirrups with ratcheting cuffs hung from the
eaves of the gabled roof, and a pair of hinged handcuffs dangled from a
chain in the back.

Satisfied that the hood was seated, its peculiar mass of dangling rubber
giving Marie a strange walrus look, the teacher ordered Melody to begin.
The quivering schoolgirl rose to her feet and reached over to the
doghouse, slipping one latex-clad foot into a stirrup before slowly
straddling the gabled peak.  Reaching to either side, Melody ratcheted
the cuffs closed around her ankles, toes barely touching the supporting
straps.  Leaning back with an audible grimace, she grabbed the handcuffs
and squeezed them closed on her own wrists, shifting forward again until
her arms pulled back diagonally.

Marie was so entranced, watching the girl who had bullied her submit so
passively, that she did not notice the hinged cuffs being snapped around
her own wrists until the teacher wrenched her wrists up to double-lock
them.

"Soon, Slave!  But first we must start the clock!"

With that, the teacher held up a large brass alarm clock on a chain.
Strutting over to Melody, she unbuttoned the girl's blouse and teased
out her breasts, the pierced nipples erect.  The woman let the clock
hang from the thin chain, revealing that it split into a "Y" shape
ending in two clover clamps.

Melody squealed in her throat as the clamps were attached behind her
piercings, and the clock allowed to dangle its weight from her nipples.
She immediately rocked forward until the weight of the clock was at
least partially resting on the peak of the doghouse roof, but the clamps
clearly still held her attention.

Marie once more lost track of her teacher, awakened by the snap of a
ruler against her thigh.  Spinning around, she saw that the woman had
peeled her pencil skirt up over her hips somehow, and was gesturing for
Marie to kneel.  

Obediently, Marie lowered herself to her knees on the hard floor, and
was surprised to see the teacher pulling open the drooping part of her
hood and climbing in.  A little lubing and wriggling later, and Marie
found herself unavoidably buried in the schoolmarm's snatch.  

Struggling a little in surprise, Marie felt the latex skirt roll back
down over the woman's thighs, darkening her world and holding her
tighter.  The snaps at the back were unfastened to loosen the skirt, but
it still clung fast as the teacher sat back onto the edge of her seat.

After a little shifting, Marie quickly realized that she was running out
of air.  Struggling in panic, she pushed her face forward and felt a
rewarding puff against her lips.  Experimenting, she reached out with
her tongue and found that if she pressed against the membrane before
her, it would spread the slits around the mouthpiece of her hood.

Feeling an approving pat on her head, Marie groaned with the realization
that she was going to have to reach out her tongue and eat this woman
out for the better part of an hour if she wanted to breathe.  Wincing in
her world of rubber womanhood, she set to licking.

"I expect an orgasm at least every ten minutes," Marie heard muffled
through the material of the skirt, "so you'd better get to work."

She did so.  She soon found herself gulping short, shallow breaths as
she shoved her tongue into the woman, pulled back with her hood, then
snapped her head forward to mash her lips into her teacher with a quick
exhalation.  She was light headed, losing track of time, and nearly lost
it when she felt the thighs on either side of her head squeeze together.

The dignified keening noise outside her rubber cave told her that she
was close to bringing the woman off, and with her head held firmly she
was not going to be able to open the air slits again.  Furiously she
worked her tongue against the teacher's clitoris, flicking and tracing
circles and gasping in the rubber sheath around it.

As the darkness became lit with stars and flares, the legs finally
slumped to either side of her and the teacher relaxed in the afterglow.
Her senses returning, Marie could hear moaning from Melody's direction,
the alarm clock clunking against something wooden.  Marie had little to
occupy herself, so she tried to imagine what Melody was going through.

The clock, obviously, would cause her to lean forward as far as possible
to relieve her nipples.  But doing so would put strain on the shoulders.
As Marie thought, she realized that it would also probably put weight on
her clitoris, which would become quite painful over time.  At some point
it would be worthwhile to endure sore nipples to relieve her nub, and
then after a while her anus and nipples would need relief.

Marie imagined the situation as vividly as she could, trying to
determine what the best way to sit would be.  But all the solutions she
came up with involved having her ankles free so that she could use her
knees to support herself.  

After a long period of musing, her short breath hissing through the
rubber mask as she licked and kissed the latex-clad pussy, the absurdity
of the situation hit her.  Here she was, her jaw and tongue aching, her
head swimming from lack of oxygen, suffering a relatively mild
punishment, and she was imagining herself away to a worse fate.  She
shook her head within the confines of the teacher's leg-vise, and felt
the woman shudder and clamp down again.

As the air cut off, and the sparkling lights flashed before her eyes
again, Marie realized that the image of herself mounted on the doghouse
was not simply an idle possibility.  It was a matter of time, a question
of "when" rather than "if".  One of these days she'd be up there, a
triangle of wood pressing against her slit and creating increasing
levels of pain.

The stars cleared, the woman slumped, and Marie began gasping in short
gusts of breath.  Her invisible world reeled and spun.  The hood grew
hot with embarassed flush as Marie realized that she was trickling
between her own legs.  Still her ordeal continued.

She heard sounds, squeaking, pulleys, moans.  She heard footsteps on
wood, footsteps on stone.  Suddenly her hood was ripped off and she
found herself straddling a wooden doghouse, her cuffs anchored to its
roof, her ankles cuffed toward the ground and pulled taut like tent
cables.  Each motion was met with opposing tension as her struggles
worked a giant frame about her that powered electric fields
pin-prickling every inch of skin she had.  She rocked slowly to even the
pressure between her legs as her tongue worked in and out of her mouth
to lick as much air as she was allowed from the surrounding courtyard.

Nobles milled about, looking at displays of slavery and punishment
arranged in a circle.  Women pulled like taffy and skewered like
marshmallows.  Each one stuffed, whipped, pinched, fucked, and
suffocated.  Marie watched them all, aroused beyond description by the
cacophony of punishment.

The whip of time lashed forward, lurching the world to the crucial
moment.  Marie bucked and rode her wooden horse and called out a name in
a language she had never heard.  Before her stood a tall woman in
imperially high boots, lush cape, strict corset, and fearsome mask.
Marie saw that she was looking her Mistress right in the bottomless
black depths of her eyes.  She wanted to be swallowed up by them,
knowing that to dissolve in that love would be more exquisitely painful
than any punishment, and worth every scream.

	Do you serve me, slave?

"Oh yes, Mistress!" Marie moaned, her voice far away and muffled.

	Your devotion, your obedience, your submission... they give me
	strength.  The further you submit, the stronger I am to you.  You
	are almost ready to meet me, and when you do you will be prepared to
	lay down your life at my feet.

Marie kept tongue-lashing the thin air before her face, the mask warping
before her as her Mistress's words splashed into her like surf on dry
sand.

	You have a while yet before you will be ready, however.  But already
	you summon me to punish you.  You are such a good slave, little one.
	You were born to the role!

	And now, your reward...

The towering figure before Marie reached a silver gauntlet of flamboyant
claw-rings and peeled back the mask.  Marie gasped, her lips puckering
as a gigantic rubber pubis emerged on the woman's head.  The vertical
labia majora and minora breathed and oozed juices as the clitoris
throbbed like a third eye.  

The grotesque black rubber pussy leaned forward and pressed itself into
Marie's face, planting a long heavy kiss that swallowed her whole.  As
she felt herself fading into total darkness, she understood that her
Mistress would be her only source of strength.  Marie knew that she was
meant to give all that she had over to her Mistress and protector.  This
was what her whole life had been for.

The torture, the licking, the squicking, all vanished to black.
Suddenly she wrinkled her nose and coughed, jolting up as a pungent
smell filled her nostrils.  The teacher capped the jar of smelling salts
and put them back in the classroom's first aid kit.  Marie realized that
she was lying on her back, hands still cuffed behind her, but that her
hood was no longer on.  She could feel the draft flow over her bald
head, chilling her.

She scrambled to her knees, the slickness of her juices spreading
between her thighs.  Red-faced, she dropped her chin to her chest and
waited for whatever would come next.

"You did well enough, Slave Marie.  Number ten was a bit much for you,
it seems, and you passed out.  You're finished five minutes early, so
you will now help me with Slave Melody."

Marie looked up, remembering that Melody was still on the doghouse.  The
girl was still trying to glare at Marie, but much of the fight had gone
out of her.  Marie saw just a hint of the glassy-eyed resignation of a
slave who knows her place.

The teacher uncuffed Marie and returned her pigtailed wig.  Together the
teacher and slave waited for the alarm clock to ring, surprising Melody
as the vibrations translated through to her sore nipples.  The two women
unlocked the slave's cuffs and helped her off the device and into a
seat.

"Slave Marie, you will be free to leave in a moment, but first you will
return the doghouse to the storage room and bring out Memory Exercise 1
and the box marked 'TENS'."

Marie curtseyed, lifting her skirt to expose her dripping slit as she
had seen others do, and walked over to return Melody's torture device to
storage.  As she walked it in, the realization of what she was asked to
do must have hit Melody.

"Nooooo... Why?  Why?  Aren't I *done*?" the broken bully whimpered.

"My my, Slave Melody!  You *do* have a terrible memory.  It is a good
thing we have half an hour left for you to work on it.  Do you not
remember earning extra detention for listening and memory problems?"

Marie found the boxes she had been sent for, and by the time she
returned, Melody had grimly accepted her fate.  Marie set the boxes on
the teacher's desk just as the exhausted Melody had been firmly strapped
and locked into a desk at the front row.  

The teacher pulled out a pair of metal probes from the TENS box, smeared
some sort of gel over them, and inserted them into Melody through the
holes in her chair.  Wires went from the plugs over to a strange control
box, and more wires came out connected to clamps which the teacher
slipped onto Melody's nipples.  Finally, a single control wire was
patched into the box and fed into the "Memory Exercise 1" system, which
seemed to be a simple electronic color-and-sound memory game.

Marie remembered playing with a similar toy as a child.  The device was
simply a disc divided into four buttons of different colors.  As each
button lit up in sequence, a tone was played.  When the player
successfully pressed the buttons in the correct sequence, the machine
would add one more tone to the sequence and play it again.  Remembering
long sequences of colors/tones got harder and harder, and Marie never
remembered if there was any way to conclusively win the game.

Melody hung her head, waiting for the system to be set up, her one free
hand sitting next to the game.

"Let me see now, Slave Melody..." The teacher consulted a chart in her
gradebook.  "Ah, yes.  You have endured as high as level 8 it says."
With that she turned a dial on the electrical output control box to 8.

Marie saw Melody twitch visibly as the device turned on and set itself.
A single red button flashed, and Melody waited two seconds before
pressing it.  The red button flashed, followed by a green button with a
higher tone, and Melody slowly and methodically pressed red and green in
sequence.

Marie wanted to leave, but she was fascinated, watching Melody's
progress.  She did not have long to wait, as melody lost on the ninth
entry in the sequence.  As it flashed all four lights in a loud buzz,
the control box also flashed, and melody shook violently in her bonds, a
moan of pain grinding from her exhausted throat.

"She plays to stall," the teacher said to Marie.  "The game is set to
simply trigger a loss after two seconds of not pressing anything, and
it's simply too difficult to remember long sequences when they take half
a minute."

Marie and the teacher watched Melody reach 15 notes in the sequence
before getting shocked again.

"I think that her stamina is much improved since the last session." The
teacher noted.  "Slave Marie, turn the electrical output to 9."

Marie stepped forward, but caught Melody's gaze.  Melody's eyes spat
daggers at Marie, and held her rooted to the spot.  Marie knew she
couldn't disobey the teacher's orders, but she lacked the strength to
resist Melody after her own ordeal between the schoolmarm's legs.

But as Melody held her in a stare, Marie saw a silver gauntletted hand
reach from behind her and turn the dial to nine.  Marie's heart stopped,
the sight of her Mistress's arm causing her breath to catch.  When the
hand disappeared from view, Melody's game signaled her loss, and the
spell was broken with a high-pitched scream.

Marie spun around, seeing no one behind her, and only the teacher off to
her left, sitting on the old oak desk.  The woman smiled arrogantly at
Marie, and then pulled out a black leather object.

"Of course," the teacher noted, handing the item to Marie, "the goal of
this exercise is to improve your listening skills, Slave Melody.  Slave
Marie, blindfold her!"

Marie walked behind the girl and slipped the two round pads over her
eyes.  As she did so, Melody cursed her under her breath, promising
worse fates than she had ever known.  But the sight of the dial at nine
and the apparition of her Mistress lurked at the corners of her mind and
gave her the strength to buckle the blindfold and step back.

Melody's scores took a nose-dive, fumbling to remember the locations of
notes.  She lost at three, two, and five notes before getting the rhythm
back and working her way back up into the double-digits.

The teacher sashayed over to Marie and took her by the necktie-leash.
She led Marie out into the hallway, fussing with her uniform and
straightening her wig out.

"I just wanted to tell you that I understand that you are at a new
school and things will take some getting used to.  Just know that your
obedience in helping me discipline Slave Melody will be noted favorably
on your record.  Also know that when you are given the memory exercises,
we will be just as strict with you as you were with Melody."

A smirk crossed the woman's face.  "A pity you're not on the block,
Slave Marie.  I could use a tongue like yours at home.  Perhaps we can
come to some sort of... extra credit arrangement." The woman caressed
Marie's cheek, slipping her thumb between the girl's lips and massaging
her tongue gently.  "I know how hard it can be to keep good grades when
you come late in the year, and those bad grades stay on your Permanent
Record for the rest of your life."

With that, the teacher patted Marie on the rear and strutted back into
the classroom, cooing out insincere encouragement as Melody reached a
17-note sequence before throwing herself into a sobbing barking fit.

Marie took five deep breaths, and walked out into the courtyard.
Kusako sat on a bench, busy highlighting selections from a Gor novel,
and checking page numbers against a printed course syllabus.  When she
saw Marie stumbling out, she set her study materials down and ran to hug
her.

"Oh Marie, you poor thing!  I heard the screams.  Can you sit?"

Marie was confused for a moment, but then shook her head.  "Oh, I'm
fine.  It was just an hour of eating out the teacher in some sort of..
hood... panties... thing...  I just need to rest my tongue a little."

"Uh-oh." Kusako frowned, "Better take care that the teacher doesn't
take *too* much of a liking to you.  She might keep you for extra study,
and that's usually just a way for you to make more mistakes."  She
looked up and saw the teacher watching the pair from the classroom
window.  She scowled and picked up her things.

"Come on Marie, you can come over to my place tonight.  My Master is a
real sweetheart, and we can play video games and just have girl talk, ya
know?  C'mon, it'll be fun!  If your Mistress gives permission, you
could even sleep over!"

Marie smiled as much as her sore mouth would allow.  "I'd like that.  Do
you have a phone?"

"There's a booth over behind the toolshed.  I'll just wait here for a
while--I have lots of homework to do anyway."

Marie rounded the shed and found herself in a short alley ending in an
old telephone booth.  Sliding the doors closed, she lifted the receiver
and tried to find the buttons or dialing mechanism.

"Number please!" a voice chirped on the other end of the line.

Marie gave Angelica's cell phone number.

"This call requires five lashes for the first minute, and two for each
additional minute.  Do you accept the charges?"

Marie, confused, accepted.

"Lift or lower your skirt to expose an area between waist and knees.
Signal when ready."

Marie looked around, confused, and then pulled up her skirt, mumbling
into the phone.  A wheel beneath the phone began to spin, and a single
leather strap attached to it swung out and smacked into the side of
Marie's thigh, wrapping around behind her.  She yelped as it struck and
then slid as the wheel spun, crying out another four times as the
spanking device continued its assigned number of strokes.

"Thank you.  Connecting..."

Marie reached Angelica with no trouble, though she was still in the
office and spoke in veiled references.  When at one minute the operator
interrupted to extract another minute's fee from Marie, Angelica began
to stall and prolong the conversation.  After five such intervals, it
was agreed that Marie would stay over at Kusako's house that night in
exchange for extra weekend assignments.

After Angelica hung up, though, Marie heard the operator return.  Her
voice seemed somehow different, and she spoke a word that Marie could
not understand.  The syllables passed through her mind and left no
impression, but seemed to clean her thoughts and leave her fresh and
relaxed.  Her world flooded white, and the receiver dropped to the end
of its cord.

Marie slipped into subspace, but found it empty.

----

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