The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a graphically sexual
nature and may involve non-consensual sexual acts between underage partners. Any
resemblance to persons either alive or dead is purely coincidental. This story is
intended for ADULTS only. If you are under the legal age of consent in your local
jurisdiction, or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
Authors Note: This text file contains Chapter Four in its entirety in eight parts.
T.Y.T.C. 4.1 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
"What did you say her name is?" Alex asked, looking back over his shoulder as he
hurried down the long corridor. The Chief Handler at The Youth Training Center
was a very busy man.
"Davidson, I think," Richard replied breathlessly as he raced to keep up with the big
man in white coveralls. "We're sending her over this afternoon. She's one of that
squad of cheerleaders we took about two weeks ago. Great tits," Richard added
with a lewd chuckle.
"Uh huh. OK," Alex said, turning the corner and heading off toward the Induction
Wing.
"Man, you're in a big hurry today," Richard said following along. Richard hoped they
were headed in the general direction of the exit. "Every time I come over here, I
get lost," he muttered to himself. "This place is huge!"
"If you could see my schedule today, you'd know why," Alex said. "I've got one
coming in at eight-thirty and another at ten. That's two 'Double I's' before noon,
not to mention exams and fittings."
"Double I" is shop talk for Induction Interview. More on this later.
"It's brutal around here these days, my friend. Seems like a never ending string of
orders to fill. Aren't you guys busy over there too?" Alex inquired of the big man
who followed him.
Richard is an employee of The Facility, a neighboring operation with similar goals as
those of The Center.
"Yeah, we're rockin'. That's for sure," Richard replied good-naturedly. "But it's
different with our program. Our Guests tend to stay with us a lot longer than
yours do. You know, kind of a reusable resource." Both men shared a chuckle over
Richard's joke.
A couple appeared from a side corridor and turned toward them. As they drew
nearer, Alex called out a friendly greeting to his fellow Associate. "Hi Mel," he said.
"How's it going?" The tall blond man halted in front of Alex and his friend. The
Guest who's hand he held, stopped dutifully beside and slightly behind him.
Mel also wore the special issue white coveralls of a TYTC Handler. He knew Alex
quite well since the two of them had worked together with several Guests. Alex
was also Mel's immediate superior. The other guy, he'd seen before and knew that
he held a rather high ranking position at The Facility, but Mel didn't know his name
for sure.
Mel and Alex shook hands in a friendly but professional manner. Then turning to
Richard, Mel extended his hand. "Mel," he said with a smile. "I've seen you around
here before, haven't I?"
"The name's Richard," the man responded cordially, taking Mel's offered hand. "And
yes, I'm over here all too often these days," he said jokingly.
"Good to meet you," Mel said. Then he turned and guided
his Guest by the hand to a position directly in front of
Richard. "This is Marti," Mel said by way of introduction.
The Guest stood silently, eyes downcast, hands at her
sides, and naked as the day she was born.
Richard had been around long enough to know what was
expected. The Guest named Marti was a cute girl of
perhaps sixteen to seventeen years of age. She was blond
and had a fine sturdy figure. "A good utilitarian body,"
Richard noted. She had a sweet face and dark brown eyes;
unusual for a blond. Richard glanced down, noting that her
sparse pubic hair was also of a golden hue.
Mel moved closer to his young charge, holding his hand to the small of her back in
preparation for the standard greeting.
"Hello, Marti," Richard said, and without hesitation, he reached downward and
cupped her womanhood in the palm of his hand. "And how are you today?" Richard
continued politely, squeezing the girl's resilient flesh.
As anticipated, the blond instinctively tried to pull away from his touch, but Mel was
there with a guiding hand on her back, keeping her in position. Richard rubbed her
slowly, but firmly while they waited for the correct response. To her credit, the
girl hadn't uttered a sound when he touched her. "She's wonderfully plump," Richard
observed. "But if I were to take her, I'd have to get rid of the pubic hair," he
decided.
At his place of employment, the Guests were shaved then cold lasered to remove all
traces of body hair permanently. But then again, theirs was a service business more
so than TYTC whom he fondly referred to as "A Purveyor of Fine Females". The
removal of body hair was mostly for sanitation purposes, though in part it was the
personal preference of the founder and president of The Facility that all of his girls
be cleanly shaven.
The young lady continued to stare at the floor. Mel was just about to drop his hand
to her taught little bottom and the device contained therein when slowly, she raised
her face up until her brown eyes at last gazed into Richard's. She was not expected
to respond to his greeting, only to look at him.
One of several non-negotiable standards at TYTC states that, "A Guest must
maintain direct eye contact with her Handler or his or her appointed representative
any time she is being attended to or touched in any manner by a Handler or
representative."
"She's cute," Richard said, locking eyes with the obviously uncomfortable young girl.
"And how long has Marti been a member of the TYTC family?" he asked, deliberately
referring to the girl in the third person. Richard let his middle finger slip between
her labia majora while he waited for a reply from one of the Handlers. Although his
intrusion was clearly reflected on the girl's face and by a sudden intake of breath,
she stood perfectly still, allowing him to explore her intimate flesh at will.
"Three weeks," Mel responded. The pride was unmistakable in his voice as he
watched the once proud Miss Marti Warren submit to the stranger's touch. He felt
her tremble as the girl grappled with her sense of self-worth. "Just two weeks
ago," Mel reflected, "this would have been an entirely different scene." He'd spent
a lot of time with Marti, and it appeared that his efforts were paying off. Mel slid
his hand from the small of her back around to her right hip and gave his charge an
affectionate little squeeze. She was doing extremely well, and more importantly, in
front of Mel's boss.
In fact, to Mel's never ending joy, Alex unexpectedly said, "Nice work, Mel. I
remember this one at her 'Double I'. She was less than cooperative, as I recall."
Alex smiled warmly at his dedicated Associate.
"Christ, look at the time!" Alex exclaimed, checking his wristwatch. "Gentlemen, I
must be off."
"I'm right behind you, Alex," Richard said, removing his hand from the blond girl, and
holding his soiled middle finger up to her lips. Obediently she opened her mouth
enough for Richard to slip his finger inside. Mel didn't fail to notice Alex's look of
approval as his young charge went about her cleaning duties. Then abruptly, Richard
plucked his finger from between the girl's lips. "Nice to meet you, Mel. We'll see
you again, Im sure," he said cordially. Without the slightest acknowledgment of the
Guest, Richard turned and followed Alex toward the Administrative Section of the
massive underground complex.
In a few yards, Alex stopped outside of a heavy wooden door labeled "CHEMLAB".
"This is as far as I go, my friend," he said. "You can find your way out from here, I
trust."
"Yeah, I think so," Richard replied, although his expression reflected his concern.
Alex laughed at his friend's dilemma then said, "Yeah, I know. It's a big place. Go
left at the end of the hall. The main elevators are on the right when you round the
corner," he directed. "Hit the button marked 'S' for 'Surface', and don't forget to
check out at the security office. They'll have to give you the 'all clear' before you
can actually exit the complex."
"I know the drill," Richard said good-naturedly. "You take care now, Alex. I might
be back later this afternoon if the boss wants me to escort the Davidson female,
but I won't be able to stay to socialize. I've got a meeting with our
Hunter/Gatherers at 1630." He stuck his hand out.
"No problem," Alex said, shaking Richard's hand. "Hey, before I forget. How old is
this young lady? I'll need to set up sleeping arrangements for her right away, I
suppose."
"I think Davidson is around eighteen," Richard informed his counterpart.
"Eighteen!" Alex responded in a somewhat dismayed tone of voice. "She's getting
on, isn't she? Are you certain this has been cleared with the Headmaster?"
"As far as I know," Richard replied with a shrug. "Hey, these decisions are made by
those higher up the ladder than me."
"I know... I know," Alex conceded. "It just that in eighteen years, a female can get
rather set in her ways. If you know what I mean." Richard raised his eyebrows and
nodded his agreement. "I recall only one other eighteen year old since I've been
here. Richards her name was, and she was a decided challenge," Alex recalled.
"What's the world coming too? It certainly does seem like liaisons with young girls
are becoming less popular these days. We're admitting older subjects every day,"
the Chief Handler reflected with disappointment.
"I hear ya," Richard agreed. "From what I know about the situation, we've got a
regular Client who's got the serious hots for this particular young lady. He's been
visiting her almost every day since we got her, and now he wants to take her home.
I also hear that the guy's loaded."
Alex listened closely to what Richard was telling him. It was all potentially valuable
information.
"I won't lie to you, man," Richard went on with a sigh. "This one is a scrapper.
We've had her going on three weeks now, and she still has to be physically
restrained to prevent her from doing bodily harm to the Clients. She almost bit a
guy's finger off last week, I heard. I spent the better part of a day with her,
personally a week ago, and I've never seen a girl put up such a fight." Richard
grinned sheepishly. "She's a problem, alright, but we figure that you guys are
better equipped to handle cases like our Miss Davidson. If anybody can correct her
attitude, it's The Youth Training Center Team."
The compliment did not go unnoticed. Alex paused for a moment, scratching his
head. "Well," he said at last. "I guess we'll give it our best, and see what comes of
it. Take care, Richard." He turned, opened the lab door and disappeared inside.
Continued...
The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a graphically sexual nature and may involve
non-consensual sexual acts between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or dead is
purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only. If you are under the legal age of consent in
your local jurisdiction, or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
Authors Note: As a rule I prefer not to post multi-part stories, but this one is
getting so very long that unfortunately, I must.
T.Y.T.C. 4.2 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
"Well, here we go again, Alex, my friend," Adam North, Headmaster of The Youth
Training Center said to his Chief Handler. His tone of voice clearly revealed his
growing frustration. "The Facility most certainly owes us one now." He smiled
wryly. "Eighteen years old and a known troublemaker, you say?"
"Yes sir," Alex answered in a professional tone. "That's the report I've received,
not to mention the talk around the water cooler. All indications suggest that Miss
Davidson will be problematic at the very least. Anything useful in her dossier?"
Alex asked hopefully.
"Nothing remarkable, I'm afraid," North said, flipping the manilla file folder open on
his desk. The first page listed the young lady's personal data beside a photograph.
Teresa Anne Davidson
DOB: 4/21/82
Hair: Dark Chestnut
Eyes: Green
Height: 5'-6"
Weight: 111 lbs.
Hips: 32"
Waist: 20"
Breasts: 35"
Relative: Timothy Davidson (Father)
Status: Divorced
"Miss Davidson's records indicate that she is currently engaged to be married to a
lawyer, of all things." The two men exchanged distasteful looks. "A guy by the
name of Gregory Whitworth." North read on in silence for a moment. He'd really
only had the time to give the young lady's file a cursory glimpse before now. That's
how busy The Center was these days. "Now this is interesting," North said, glancing
up at Alex who sat opposite his desk. Alex gave him a curious look. "It appears
that our young lady prefers older men. If I'm reading this file correctly, and I
believe I am, Miss Davidson's beau is forty-one years of age."
"That might be useful," Alex commented. "Perhaps we should start her off with a
series of very young partners, since it appears our girl derives at least a portion of
her self-image from her association with more mature role models. The emotional
role reversal will help to keep her off balance for awhile. It could be too that Miss
Davidson has had some past encounters with her divorced father," Alex speculated.
"Might be worth a try," the Headmaster thoughtfully agreed. "Who is the youngest
Handler currently in our employ, and is he engaged at this time?"
Alex pulled his Palm Pilot from a breast pocket of his coveralls. Quickly he scrolled
through his list of staff after having first sorted them by age. "Two hold promise,
sir," Alex said after his brief search. "Scott Case is seventeen years old and has
been with us for three years. He started as a night partner, but quickly proved
himself capable of command. He was assigned his first Guest when he was only
fifteen and a half. His success record is exemplary."
"And the other?" Adam North asked.
"Norman Thurston, age 18, Handler for a year and a half," then suddenly Alex fell
silent. "Hang on," he muttered scribbling with the stylus on his palm computer.
"No, never mind about Thurston. I see I have him scheduled to assist in the
Cafeteria the entire month. Looks like Case is our man."
"Good. Let's get him in here," North said decisively. "And I'd like to start her on
Thelazine right away. That should knock the edge off her guarding instincts. I
believe that'll be best course of action for everyone concerned."
"I agree," Alex responded, making a note. Then in an attempt take a positive stance,
he added, "At least now she'll be attended to by professionals during her stay with
us rather than amateurs," Alex said, referring to the program employed by their
neighbor, The Facility. Neither man wished to deride the neighboring operation. It
served a useful function, and enjoyed good success. Occasionally, as with the case
pending, TYTC was called upon to lend a helping hand. That's what neighbors are
for, after all.
They heard the commotion out in the hall long before the door opened. When at
last it did, the Headmaster, his Chief Handler and a third young man dressed in the
white coveralls of a TYTC Handler looked on in amazement as a "wild thing" was
ushered between two burly Handlers into the previously quiet office. She kicked
and spat and flung her long chestnut hair. A string of unintelligible curses mixed
with a spray of spittle flew from her mouth as she was literally dragged across the
carpet toward the big desk, behind which Adam North sat patiently.
Following a subtle nod from his superior, the young man in white rose from his seat
and took charge of the situation. Walking quickly to the side of the room, Scott
returned, rolling ahead of him an apparatus known as the Acceptance Frame.
Resembling a coat rack on casters, at first glance the Acceptance Frame was a
rather innocuous looking rectangular apparatus
about six feet long and five high. It was
constructed of stainless steel tubing one and
one half inches in diameter. Wrist and ankle
restraint cuffs with velcro closures were
located at the four corners of the rectangle.
The tubing at the bottom half of the device
was filled with lead shot for weight and
stability, and although it was quite heavy, the
apparatus rolled easily on casters at the ends
of two shorter struts set perpendicularly to
the lower bar at either end of the steel frame.
The Acceptance Frame was simple yet elegant
in function. With it, an unruly Guest could be
immobilized quickly and efficiently. The device
was used quite often these days for Induction
Interviews rather than having to tie up the Center's otherwise very busy staff of
Handlers and Attendants.
"Let's get her framed up, gentlemen," Scott said, calmly ignoring the girl's shrieking
protests. Everyone in the room, with the possible exception of the irate young
Guest, suspected that it was going to be a long day.
"Let go of me, you sons of bitches!" the dark haired girl screamed at the top of her
lungs as she was pulled toward the waiting device. It was the first recognizable
thing she'd said since she arrived.
The two Handlers , Cliff and Hugh, chosen as escorts for the fiery tempered
teenager were both massively built men and had no difficulty controlling the one
hundred pound young woman. Scott position the "A-Frame" directly in front of the
Headmaster's desk and locked the casters, then stood aside to observe while the
antagonistic teenager was secured to it. When all was in readiness, Scott turned to
the two staff members who stood awaiting further instructions and said, "Many
thanks, gentlemen. Cliff, if you wouldn't mind standing by for the interview." The
man nodded his consent. "Hugh," Scott went on. "Thank you again for your kind
assistance. You are excused."
It is critical that a young lady learn to recognize authority if she expects to one day
become a fully functional female. For this reason Scott conducted himself quite
formally as was the custom among the staff of The Youth Training Center when in
the presence of a Guest.
"Yes, sir. You're quite welcome," Hugh replied.
It seemed almost comical that a man of Hugh's age and imposing size would address
an obviously much younger man with such deference, but Hugh knew Scott, and
knew that every Handler had to start his career somewhere. Hugh had been
awarded several opportunities in the past to supervise a "Double I", and was a
valued member of the TYTC Team. But today, young Scott was in charge, and Hugh
and every other staff member would afford him the respect and courtesy that his
position of command deserved.
While Hugh made his exit the young chestnut haired beauty tested her bonds. The
four men who remained in the office waited patiently while the girl yanked with
desperate strength at the restraints around her wrists, twisting and tugging until
her hands were white from lack of circulation. Ignoring her audience, she grunted
and snarled and cursed under her breath, throwing her body from side to side and
to and fro senselessly against the inertia of the apparatus. The "A-Frame" had
been tested by men far stronger and many times her weight. The heavy, unyielding
steel allowed the girl freedom of movement to a degree, but not enough for her to
tip the frame over and possibly injure herself. After a full ten minutes of
struggling, all the girl had to show for her efforts were two round, dark spots of
perspiration on her blue linen dress over her breasts and some angry, red chafe
marks on her wrists. Two minutes more passed and she stood panting, leaning
heavily against the top horizontal bar of the frame where it crossed her sternum
just above her breasts. Her head hung forward limply, her tousled brown hair
covering her face. At last, the young woman appeared to be spent; for the time
being in any case.
"Good afternoon, Miss Davidson," Adam North said politely. "And welcome to The
Youth Training Center." The girl did not respond. Ignoring her impertinence for the
moment, North continued in a calm and even voice. "No doubt, you are wondering
why you are here." He paused. When after a few seconds she made no attempt to
acknowledge his statement, the Headmaster looked in Alex's direction who in turn
nodded to Scott.
"Delegation," Scott reminded himself. "Delegation." Turning to the big Handler who
stood nearby, Scott said, "Cliff, Miss Davidson apparently requires your assistance."
"Yes, sir," Cliff replied curtly. He stepped forward calmly and took up a position
directly behind the restrained young woman. She did not move. Without the need
for further instructions, the big man placed one hand on the girl's right shoulder.
She didn't look up, but tried to shrug his hand away. It was then that Cliff grabbed
a handful of thick chestnut hair at the base of her skull and yanked, jerking her
head violently up and back.
"Owww! God, you bastard!" she shrieked. "Let go of me. You're hurting me!" She
tried to free herself, but Cliff held her fast, forcing her to look straight ahead.
After a dispensing a series of whining curses, she fell silent.
"That's much better," Adam North declared with what appeared to be a warm smile.
"You will learn, Miss Davidson, that you are expected to look directly at the person
with whom you are engaged, be it in conversation or otherwise. This is one of our
non-negotiable standards, and disobedience will not be tolerated." His expression
remained neutral, divulging nothing of his plans for her.
"Yeah, and you and your cronies can all go to hell!" the feisty girl spat, glaring
defiantly at the man at the desk. "When my fianc‚ finds out about this... this
despicable little rape club you're running, he'll see to it that all of you monsters
spend the rest of your filthy lives in prison."
The Headmaster gazed up at the woman from his seat behind the big desk. On his
handsome face he wore an expression of amazement. "How any man in his right
mind could possibly want a woman like this is beyond me," he thought. Looking into
her dark green eyes, North saw only contempt and arrogance. "It's going to be a
long day," North decided.
Although she was very apprehensive about her future, Teresa enjoyed a brief
moment of triumph when the man who was obviously in charge of this mad house
where she'd been held prisoner for weeks now, lowered his gaze and bowed his head.
Somehow Teresa knew she'd escape from her incarceration, and although she'd been
raped repeatedly by these wicked brutes, she knew she would eventually prevail
over them. She'd made a list of names. She'd memorized faces. Sooner or later
she'd have her day, and when Gregory, her husband to be and a powerful trial
attorney got his legal hands on them, these cowardly cretins would end up rotting in
prison for the rest of time. Unlike the majority of the other girls on her squad
who'd quickly deteriorated into quivering, whimpering crybabies following their
arrival in what she assumed was just another part of her place of captivity, Teresa
had endured. She'd fought them at every opportunity. She recalled with a welling
sense of omnipotence how she'd bitten one bastard's hand to the bone. Teresa
thought of herself as a true champion. Although she was young -- "Gregory doesn't
think so," she reminded herself Teresa Davidson had become the epitome of the
modern female. She thought of most men as "boy toys", believing the majority of
males she associated with to be barbaric and stupid. She, on the other hand, was
smart. She was desirable. She was powerful.
She was wrong...
Staring down at his desk blotter, Adam North rubbed his forehead with his
fingertips. After an audible sigh, and without looking up, he said softly, "Let her go,
Cliff."
"Yes, sir," the big man said, never questioning his boss' decisions. He released
Teresa's hair and stepped back.
Shocked by the unexpected development, but not for long, Teresa leaned her head
back and shook out her shining tresses. Then she leveled a cold stare at the man
behind the desk. Teresa sensed victory. "It was only a matter of time before this
wimp of a man would tell his goons to let me go," she thought to herself.
Teresa was already planning her next move when the man spoke. It came more as a
sighing lamentation, than a direct order, but his Chief Handler knew exactly what
the Headmaster of The Youth Training Center had in mind. "Alex.. Alex.. Alex,"
North began. "What am I to do?" He looked up at his colleague seated across from
him. There was an almost gleeful twinkle in his grey eyes. "I can't seem to get
through to Miss Davidson. Maybe it's a personality conflict. I just don't know." He
paused for effect. Alex struggled not to burst out laughing when he turned and
saw the expression of pompous arrogance glowing on the young woman's face. Then
he turned back and faced his employer. "Perhaps you might have more luck with
her. Do you think?" Adam North asked his Chief Handler.
"Well, maybe, sir," Alex said, playing along. "I'll be happy to try reasoning with Miss
Davidson on your behalf, if you wish," he said, slowly rising from his seat.
"Please," North said with a smile.
Turning to face Teresa, Alex said thoughtfully, "Perhaps if we made her more
comfortable."
"They're going to untie me now. I know they are," Teresa thought excitedly.
"Cliff," Alex said in a kindly manner. "Would you be so good as to help Miss
Davidson feel more at home with us. Perhaps you could help her out of that dress
she's wearing. She won't be needing it for a long while."
The change that came over Miss Teresa Davidson was almost laughable. One minute
she was flying high, having just scored a tremendous victory over her captors and
paving the way for her eventual release, and the next she found herself once again
alone and vulnerable, facing an advancing predator.
Looking warily over her shoulder at Cliff as he stepped closer, Teresa said bravely,
"Now you just hold on, buddy boy." She began to strain at the bindings around her
wrists. "Just stop right there," she warned.
"Hush, little one," Cliff whispered. He reached under Teresa's right arm and felt
for the seam of the blue linen dress.
"Don't you touch me," Teresa hissed, twisting her body in an attempt to escape the
man's attentions. The first seam ripped cleanly from her armpit to her waist.
"You'll pay for this, bastard!" she screamed just inches from the man's face. "I've
got your name, you... you creature. My fianc.... husband will fix you when he finds
out about this!"
"Shh...shh...shh..." Cliff whispered mockingly. Then he smiled and tore open the left
side seam of Teresa's dress.
Unlike The Youth Training Center where Guests remain naked at all times, The
Facility issued its Guests unique clothing. The Facility chose to make its Guests
available to the paying public rather than have them schooled by a trained staff. It
was simply a difference in philosophy. In any case, the director of the neighboring
operation realized that many of his clients preferred to "unwrap" their prizes
before they played with them, so he designed dresses and undergarments that were
easily removed without damaging either the Guest or her clothing. The special issue
blue dresses, brassieres and panties were constructed with unobtrusive velcro seams
which could be torn open and resealed time and time again.
Teresa Davidson wore just such a dress. So in spite of the fact that she fought
like a she-cat, wrenching and twisting her body as much as the steel frame would
allow and all the while shrieking like a banshee, Cliff was able to peel her like a ripe
banana. The man conducted himself like the true professional he was as he tore
away Teresa's brassiere, freeing her magnificent breasts, full and firm and perfectly
shaped. The panties came next. Since Teresa's legs were spread widely apart and
restrained at the ankles, a normal pair of female underwear would have to have been
cut and ruined in order to remove them. Not so the panties given to her by The
Facility. The narrow seams at each hip tore open easily, allowing Cliff to pull the
small garment from between the animated young woman's legs. There was a round
hole with a stitched hem in the center of the cotton panel which normally covered
Teresa's womanhood. Cliff knew it was there to allow the passage of the vaginal
mount systems that the Guests at The Facility were displayed upon daily.
Note: For further information on The Facility and its day to day operation, please
refer to any one of the stories in the "Natural Selection" series.
Continued...
The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a graphically sexual nature and may involve
non-consensual sexual acts between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or dead is
purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only. If you are under the legal age of consent in
your local jurisdiction, or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
Authors Note: As a rule I prefer not to post multi-part stories, but this one is
getting so very long that unfortunately, I must.
T.Y.T.C. 4.3 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
As he stood watching the pretty teenager being systematically stripped, Scott
began to feel like his toes were being stepped on. His boss had for some reason
seen fit to intervene in Miss Davidson's Induction Interview, and that affected the
young man's sense of pride. Sensing his junior Associate's concern, Alex turned to
him. Speaking up in order to make himself heard over the nearby caterwauls, Alex
said, "Don't worry, Scott. We'll be turning her over to you shortly. I think I know
what the Headmaster has in mind." He smiled mischievously and winked. Alex was
as familiar with the principles of personnel management as he was with the female
reproductive anatomy, and because of his intuitiveness and quick thinking he was
able to appease his young coworker and put him at ease.
Adam North sat calmly admiring the body of the infuriated young woman as his
Handler completed his task. "She really is a scrapper," North resolved. "I suspect
she was quite popular with the clients next door, properly restrained, of course.
And she does have a lovely figure. Those breasts are as nice as I've seen, and she's
too young to have had enhancements. Ah, the shaved vulva," North reflected when
Cliff at last removed the girl's panties. "Trademark of The Facility. I suppose some
find it attractive. It certainly gives a man a better idea of what the girl has to
offer, but I still prefer the feel of soft curls against my hand and between my
fingers," he mused. "Well," he muttered over the din of cursing and screaming.
"Time to get to work."
Teresa had indeed been creating quite a commotion, but Adam North was able to
filter out the racket. He'd conducted so many "Double I's" during his tenure at
TYTC that he'd lost count, and always there was the shouting and the protests and
the threats. Clearing his throat, North tried to get the young lady's attention.
"Miss Davidson," he said calmly.
"Fuck you! Fuck all of you!" was the piercing response he received.
"Miss Davidson, I must have a word with you if you will please calm down," he spoke
a little louder.
"Calm down? Calm down! How dare you tell me to calm down, you filthy son of a
bitch," Teresa ranted. Then she launched into another unintelligible tirade.
Adam North faced his Chief Handler, and in an exasperated tone of voice he asked,
"Alex, is there any way we can fit this young woman early. Even if it's only
temporarily, we must do something to silence her, or I'm afraid we'll be here all
night."
North usually had far more patience, but this afternoon he was just plain tired. It
had been an extremely busy month. In addition to his daily duties such as
interviews with Guests and other administrative chores, Adam was in the process of
preparing the Center's third quarter report. It had been a remarkable year so far,
and the stock holders would be very pleased, but still the reporting process
required an inordinate amount of time, time he didn't really have.
Sensing his boss' growing frustration, Alex replied confidently, "No problem, sir. I
think I can dig up a CAP Device that'll suffice." As a matter of fact, he had one in
the kit on his hip. Alex stepped forward and squatted down behind the struggling
teenager. Placing his hands on her gyrating hips, the Handler traced the outline of
her pelvis with his finger tips and thumbs. Then without warning Alex moved his
hands back and pulled the girl's shapely buttocks apart, spreading her open for
inspection.
"Get your filthy hands off of me, you pervert," Teresa screamed when she felt the
man open her. She wrenched her hips wildly in an effort to escaped his grasp.
Ignoring her protests, Alex went on with his inspection. "Reasonably wide pelvis,"
Alex remarked from behind Teresa. Her thrashing was no more than an
inconvenience for him. He'd performed the same task so many times that he could
have done it in his sleep. He'd learned that all one had to do in order to keep up
with a struggling female, is to relax and move with her, rather than try to fight
her. "Anal sphincter is in good shape," Alex noted. "Since The Facility recently
began to phase out their old style vaginal mounting devices in favor of the newer
ankle and knee splint system, the Guests weren't taking it in the rear end quite so
often," he understood. Alex released Teresa's buttocks, allowing the firm globes
of warm flesh to close together. Then glancing around her right hip, he said to his
employer, "I believe she'll take a size seven, sir, but I'd like to check her manually
first."
"Please proceed," North replied. He gazed at the young woman bound before him.
She'd temporarily tired of her struggling and once again leaned against the steel
frame. Although Teresa was nearly exhausted, her internal fires still burned.
North could see the embers of that inferno glowing hotly behind her emerald eyes
as she boldly returned his stare. It was that very fire that he and his associates
would one day harness.
Behind her, Alex reached into his kit and withdrew a tube of lubricant. The girl
seemed intent upon having a stare down with his boss, so Alex took advantage of
the opportunity. Quickly, he applied a small amount of lubricant gel to the index
finger of his right hand. Before the teenager knew what was happening, Alex pulled
Teresa's left buttock aside with his left hand, then in one fluid motion he pushed
his finger deeply into her anal passage until his knuckles pressed against the
firmness of her cheeks.
After spending many days in the care of The Facility, Teresa was no stranger to
anal penetration. None the less, the swiftness with which Alex entered her was at
the same time both startling and of course, quite humiliating.
Prior to her abduction along with the rest of the members of the Chelsea Women's
College Championship Cheerleading Squad, Teresa Davidson would never have
dreamed of allowing a man to have his way with her in that manner. The very
thought of some guy pushing his loathsome penis into her tender nether regions
made Teresa cringe.
"Goddd, Get your filthy finger out of me, you disgusting animal!" Teresa groaned.
Memories of recent encounters with a horrible, hairy man named Stan flooded
Teresa's mind as the latest in a string of tormentors examined her delicate interior.
Instinctively, her strong anal muscles clamped down on Alex's finger.
"Excellent anal response," Alex commented as he probed deeply into Teresa.
Ignoring her protests, he pushed and prodded, easily foiling any attempts on
Teresa's part to evade him.
"Ughh...Ohh...Gughh!" Teresa grunted. Then in a much more enthusiastic manner, she
added, "You're all a bunch of fucking perverts!" She thrashed her shapely hips
violently from side to side.
Then, quite unexpectedly, Alex shifted his finger inside. Equally at home in all of
the female orifices, Alex managed to find one of those special places so sensitive
and tender, that even the slightest pressure applied is enough to elicit
instantaneous response. Teresa immediately threw back her head and howled in pain.
"Let's be quiet for a spell, shall we, Miss Davidson," Alex prompted from his
kneeling position behind the shocked young woman. "A Guest shall only speak when
spoken to," he quoted.
"Fuck you!" Teresa gasped once the piercing pain began to subside.
Alex's response was swift, causing the obstinate teen to cry out and thrash against
her bonds.
"It's quite simple, Miss Davidson," the Chief Handler spoke calmly. "Cooperate, and
we will get along much better." He rotated his finger slowly while he spoke,
exploring the supple walls of Teresa's rectum. The sensations that his flagrant
invasion of her person produced were thoroughly sickening to the unfortunate
teenager. "Disobey and suffer the consequences," Alex said as he flicked his buried
finger tip across that special place that caused such extraordinary pain.
"Ugghhh," Teresa gasped. This time, her knees buckled, and the teenager soon
found herself hanging by her wrists in the horrible restraint apparatus. However,
for the first time, since she'd been ushered into the office of the Headmaster of
The Youth Training Center, young Teresa Davidson held her tongue.
Alex took another several minutes to complete his examination, during which time,
Teresa remained silent with the exception of an occasional soft grunt. The TYTC
staff members present didn't fail to notice the fact that during her anal exam, the
stubborn teenager stared intently at the floor in front of Adam North's desk.
Learning to look a man in the eye while she is being touched against her will is a
difficult concept for a young woman to master. Everyone in the room that
afternoon knew that Teresa, like all of the Guests at TYTC, would soon be expected
to overcome her self-consciousness and comply with the standards of the Center,
but for the moment, her transgressions were dismissed.
"Definitely a size seven," Alex said as he removed his finger from Teresa's back
side. She breathed an audible sigh of relief.
Clearing his throat, Adam North spoke up in a compelling tone of voice. "Miss
Davidson, if I might have your attention for a moment please." He waited. When
after a few seconds, the head strong young woman refused to look up at him, North
continued. Unbeknownst to Teresa, his patience was quickly waning. "Miss
Davidson, you will look at me when I speak to you, or you will be punished. You are
no longer in the loving hands of our neighbor, The Facility." That got her attention.
"They have turned you over to us in order to prepare you for your new life. Here at
TYTC, you will find, Miss Davidson, that we do not brook the sorts of outbursts and
general misbehavior that our more kindly neighbors do. Indeed, you will discover
that defiance and disobedience are dealt with quickly and thoroughly here. Alex, if
you would please," North said.
Teresa had been so engrossed by the Headmaster's ominous words, that she didn't
notice that Alex had remained busy while his superior lectured her. In fact, while
North admonished the young woman, Alex removed from his kit a specialty device
designed by the TYTC Engineering Department. This one device is said to be the
single most important piece of equipment used by the Center in its on going effort
to develop the very best programs of conditioning and training designed to
adequately alter the wants and needs of any young woman to the point where she
can take her place in polite society as a fully functional female. This is a lofty goal
and monumental responsibility, and to this day, thanks to the C.A.P. Device and
other such technological innovations, The Youth Training Center enjoys a one
hundred percent success rate.
The original C.A.P. (Continuous Anal Presence) Device was developed
a little over six years ago. The forerunner of the more modern
devices, the original CAP was constructed from a hard acrylic plastic.
Shaped like a small bomb, the early devices had a rounded tip for
ease of insertion then quicky gained girth to provide the bearer with
a maximum sense of presence. From its bulbous mid-section, the
instrument tapered to a narrow neck which is designed to capture
the first anal sphincter, effectively locking the unit in place. The
neck is purposely designed wider to keep the anal opening dilated for
ease of access. The device is worn with the butt end protruding
slightly from between the buttocks, so the CAP remains accessible
to the Guests' Handlers should she require assistance with her
concentration.
Practically every young lady who comes to us, regardless of her age, receives her
CAP within her first few hours in residence. At TYTC we strongly believe that "The
way to a girl's soul is through her rectum." It has been proven time and again that
following the insertion of one of these marvelous utensils, a young woman
immediately gains focus. Her thoughts are inexorably drawn to that part of her
body which is most important to a young lady, her abdominal interior. Not a moment
in her life passes without her being reminded of her raison d'etre.
The newer devices, like their predecessors, are available
in a variety of sizes to fit the needs of every young lady.
They are sized by length and measured in inches. A size
six, for example, is six inches long. Approximately two
years ago, our engineers decided that a certain amount
of flexibility in the design might be desirable. Although
the apparatus must be rigid enough to provide a suitable
amount of pressure against the back of the rectum, it
was discovered through exhaustive testing that if the
CAP is able to flex at its narrowest section, it will move with the bearer, thereby
maintaining maximum penetration and presence no matter the attitude of her anal
passage relative to her spine. The following diagrams illustrate this principle quite
clearly:
The New Flexible Design Rigid enough for discipline.
The Empty Female
The Fulfilled Female
During a portion of the initial design phase of the newer flexible CAPs it was also
decided that a blunt tip would be more desirable than the older pointed end design.
The science behind this resolution is quite simple, really. First of all, there is no
need for a tapered tip, because by nature, the anal sphincter is eminently
expandable. In addition, by maintaining the device's full diameter over a larger
portion of its length, a greater internal mass is assured where it really counts. Our
Handler's quickly discovered, for example, that even with the instrument flexed at a
forty-five degree angle, the increased barrel diameter transmitted a far greater
amount of force to the bearer's interior when its neck was slapped during
disciplinary proceedings. There is little doubt that the new arrangement is far
superior to the older model, and we are once again indebted to the men and women
in our Research and Design Department for this significant discovery.
"Hey! What are you...?" Teresa began angrily when she felt the horrible man part
her buttocks with his strong fingers. She jerked her head around in time to see
Alex kneeling behind her, but very quickly Teresa's attention was diverted to more
pressing matters. "Hugggh...uhhh...uuhhhh...uuuhhhh!" she gasped convulsively.
From his seat at his big desk, Adam North could plainly see the girl's stomach
muscles flex, causing her otherwise rounded tummy to become suddenly flat and
hard. The young woman's legs trembled visibly as the one and a quarter inch
diameter device forced open her anal gateway. Fortunately for Teresa, she was
pre-lubricated from Alex's recent manual inspection, or the incident would have
been far more uncomfortable for her. Also, because of her experiences with her
previous hosts, the once virtually unbearable and deep-seated ache of anal
penetration was more endurable. None the less, seven inches of relatively hard
plastic probe nearly two inches in diameter was a quite a load for Teresa. Alex
could feel her powerful anal muscles alternately clutch and relax around the slowly
advancing instrument. As is generally the case, the teenager ceased her struggling
at the onset of the insertion, and remained relatively still while inch after inch of
her first CAP Device disappeared into her. Alex kept a hand on Teresa's right hip,
anyway, to steady her, but for all intents and purposes, it was unnecessary. True to
its design, the CAP Device had Teresa's undivided attention.
Even the horrid man she'd been with earlier in the week hadn't infiltrated Teresa
quite so thoroughly. His had been a more sadistic, jabbing attack, rather than the
persistent, all consuming sensation of being dilated and inflated, seemingly to the
bursting point. Now as North looked on approvingly, he saw Teresa's smooth belly
bulge outward as her normally empty spaces were displaced by the rectal torpedo.
Then suddenly she groaned loudly as the blunt end of the instrument forced aside
the smooth, muscled walls of her colon.
"Just relax, my dear," Alex said almost soothingly. It was the first even remotely
kind statement he'd uttered since she'd arrived in this hideous place. "We're almost
there," he murmured. With a slow twist of his wrist, Alex introduced the final two
inches of the hard shaft into his young charge. He watched Teresa's anal portal
close around the narrower section of the CAP Device, demonstrating excellent
reflex response and muscular resilience.
Then with one final push, Alex sent the instrument home, eliciting a very pleasant
grunt from Teresa. Alex studied his work for a moment, noting the nearly two inch
diameter plug protruding from between the young lady's shapely buttocks. Placing
his hands on her hips, Alex massaged the girl's supple flesh. He knew from
experience that this would cause her to relax and accept the appliance into herself
as an integral part of her anatomy.
When Alex was satisfied that Teresa's CAP was installed according to specs, he
stood up and turned to Scott, his junior Handler, stating in a professional manner,
"She's all yours now, Scott. It looks like her sphincter is perfectly seated." Then,
without a word, Alex returned to his seat while the younger man took up a position
nearer to his charge. Teresa looked over her shoulder and glared at the two men.
"Miss Davidson," Adam North spoke up once again. "The device that Alex has so
kindly placed inside of you is called a Continuous Anal Presence Device, of CAP for
short."
Teresa turned to face the wicked man behind the desk. A look of unveiled contempt
graced her pretty face. The discomfort she initially felt when the monster named
Alex pushed the revolting thing up her butt was slowly diminishing as her anatomy
adjusted itself around the foreign object. As a result, Teresa was able to begin to
concentrate on things other than her immediate interior.
"You will notice once we release you into the general population, that all of our
Guests are equipped with identical devices," North continued, ignoring the hostile
expression on the girl's face. "While you are here, Miss Davidson, the instrument
shall remain inside of you at all times," the Headmaster instructed the shocked
young woman. He held up his hand, silencing her attempted comment. "I talk; you
listen," young lady," he said sternly. Teresa clapped her mouth shut almost
comically. "As I was saying, you shall bear your CAP Device at all times. You are
not permitted to remove it under any circumstances." He paused to allow his
remarks to sink in. "The only persons authorized to remove your CAP Device are
your assigned Handler, who for now will be Scott." The young Handler beamed with
pride at this announcement. "And, of course, Alex. Do I make myself clear, Miss
Davidson?" North asked the astounded teenager. He awaited the obvious question.
They all ask it.
"But..." Teresa began meekly.
North made a mental note about her improved demeanor following insertion. "Yes,
Miss Davidson?" he prompted.
"But what if I have to use the... you know?" She gazed downward self-consciously.
"The what?" the Headmaster asked. He wanted her to ask the question.
"What'll I do when I have to use the... the... the bathroom?" Teresa asked with
great indignity. She felt like a third grader.
"Don't you worry about that, Miss Davidson," North assured her. "You will soon find
that all of your toiletry requirements will be taken care of for you." He chuckled at
the look he got following that statement. "Just remember," North cautioned.
"Never attempt to remove the instrument yourself for any reason. Only those
persons who have obtained direct written permission from either Scott, Alex or
myself may remove your CAP Device. Do I make myself clear, Miss Davidson?"
North asked calmly.
The obstinate young woman remained silent for several moments, glaring icily at the
man behind the desk from her position of captivity. Many weaker willed individuals
would have given in to the situation long ago, but not Teresa Davidson. Among
friends and acquaintances she was well known for her determination and tenacity.
In spite of the predicament she was in, Teresa's thought to herself, "Gregory would
be proud of me for resisting these beasts. He'd want me to fight them. I know he
would." Then looking directly into the ice grey eyes of her captor, Teresa spoke in a
low and hostile tone.
"I don't know who you people think you are," she began, her voice laden with
contempt. "But judging by what I've seen, you are all nothing but a pack of
demented kidnappers and rapists. You justify your perversions by proclaiming
allegiance to some noble cause. If you consider torture and rape noble, then you've
achieved your goal. You and your accomplices are monsters, and if you think that
you can make me cooperate with you; force me to give in to your loathsome crusade,
then you are sadly mistaken."
Adam North sat quietly behind his desk, letting the irrate young woman have her
final say. With a small gesture of his hand, he silenced one of his staff members
who was about to interrupt the girl.
Teresa continued, "You've held me prisoner now for I don't know how long. You've
violated me in every way, and still I defy you." She glared at North. "I promise you
that you and your despicable cronies will never break me. No matter what you do to
me, I'll fight you to the end, and one day I'll find a way out of this contemptible mad
house. When I do, Mr. North." Teresa smiled mockingly. "Oh, yes. I remember
names, Mr. North," she said arrogantly. "And as soon as I get out of here, I'm going
right to the police. And then I'm going to my husb..., fianc‚." She held her head up
proudly. "Gregory will make you pay for your atrocities. You'll all pay!" She turned
her head and looked away, as if to dismiss her captors.
The room remained silent for a long while. Everyone knew what was coming, except
for Teresa Davidson, of course.
"Thank you for sharing your feelings with us, Miss Davidson," Adam North began in
a calm voice. We appreciate your candor." Surprised by his seemingly
understanding demeanor, Teresa looked in North's direction. "You've stated your
position quite succinctly, however I feel that your logic is flawed." North smiled
when he saw a glimmer of concern in her eye. "First of all, you continue to
mistakenly assume that the policies and procedures with which you've become
familiar over the past few weeks are somehow affiliated with our organization.
Allow me to set the records straight one last time, Miss Davidson. Although our
neighbor, The Facility, has similar goals, our methods are radically different. While
you were a Guest at The Facility, you were presented daily for public consumption,
were you not?" North waited as the young woman first blushed hotly then lowered
her gaze. "Look at me, Miss Davidson," the Headmaster ordered. He was pleased to
see that she obeyed. "One small step," North mused. "The Facility, Miss Davidson,
is a service industry. Their belief is that by providing the general public with
regular access to what they refer to as 'The Elite Female', they will accomplish two
objectives. The first being the renovation and rejuvenation of the self-images of
their clients, by allowing them to be with young ladies such as yourself. Secondly,
and we feel, more importantly, the Guests at The Facility, who are accustomed to a
life of privilege based solely upon their physical appearance, are slowly corrected,
amended, if you will, to embrace what the founder of the institution believes are
the proper attitudes and behaviors of a well adjusted female." North paused. He
could see that what he said shocked the head strong young woman deeply. "We too,
believe that for a variety of reasons, today's 'modern woman' has become misaligned.
The liberal society in which we live is mostly to blame. Everything we see in the
media places the physical beauty of the female of our species upon and unreachable
pedestal. It seems that males are the only group that it is politically correct to
ridicule these days. If you don't believe me, just watch television. I'll guarantee
that within minutes you will see programming in which the male character is depicted
as a buffoon, blundering through life until thankfully, the much smarter female
comes to his aid. Because of these sorts of media influences and others, the woman
of today has lost sight of her rightful place in society. It is the mission of The
Facility as well as our own, to remedy this embarrassing situation. But, although we
share similar goals, our training philosophy and methodology differ greatly."
"You're out of your mind," Teresa said with unveiled astonishment. "You're all out of
your minds!"
Continued...
The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a graphically sexual nature and may involve
non-consensual sexual acts between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or dead is
purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only. If you are under the legal age of consent in
your local jurisdiction, or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
Authors Note: As a rule I prefer not to post multi-part stories, but this one is
getting so very long that unfortunately, I must.
T.Y.T.C. 4.4 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
"Silence, Miss Davidson!" Adam North shouted. He rose from his seat. "You will
not speak unless you are told to speak." His face was red with anger. It was a rare
occurrence indeed for the Headmaster to lose his temper, but this young woman
was particularly obstinate and disrespectful, and as mentioned earlier, he was very
tired. He paused for a moment to regain his composure, then took his seat. Turning
to Teresa's Handler, the Headmaster said in a controlled voice, "Please take charge
of Miss Davidson, Scott. I do not wish to be interrupted again until this interview is
concluded."
"I understand, sir," Scott responded curtly. He stepped behind Teresa and stood
ready to attend to her should he be required to do so.
"Very well," Adam North said with a patient smile. "Miss Davidson, I expect for you
to listen closely to what I have to say. Do not interrupt me again or you will be
dealt with harshly."
"Go fuck yourself," Teresa replied coldly.
It took only a slight nod from his superior, for Scott needed no instructions. His
hand moved like lightning, striking one decisive blow to the butt end of Teresa's CAP
which protruded from between her buttocks. The force of his blow was
transferred upward and back, ramming the blunt head of the CAP into the base of
Teresa's spine. All that could be heard from the unfortunate young woman was a
rush of breath as the wind was knocked out of her. The stubborn teenager couldn't
even cry out when her knees suddenly buckled from under her, leaving her hanging
in the Acceptance Frame by her wrists. To Teresa, the sensation was like being
kicked in the stomach from the inside. She hung from the frame, panting heavily
while the four men looked on unsympathetically. Every young lady received this
very same lesson at one point in her stay at TYTC.
"At The Facility, Miss Davidson, you were dealing with amateurs. Our staff, on the
other hand, consists of highly trained men and women. There isn't a person in our
employ who isn't intimately familiar with female anatomy, physiology, and psychology.
Our research and development team keeps us supplied with the latest technological
advancements." North continued with his monolog while Teresa struggled to catch
her breath and regain her feet. "We also utilize some very sophisticated chemical
compounds as training aids. One of these is called Thelazine. Cliff, if you would,
please," North said nodding to the big Handler.
Teresa turned and watched the big man cross the room and retrieve an odd looking
apparatus from a cabinet set into office wall. At the last minute Teresa recognized
the pneumatic vaccination gun when Cliff pressed it against her right hip. "Hey wait,
no.. Dnn.." she started to protest.
"Snick...." the gun spat, injecting the designer drug into Teresa's flesh.
North could see the panic rising in her expression as the teenager jerked her head
around and stared at him.
"Cowards!" Teresa hissed, fully expecting to lose consciousness at any moment. "At
least the perverts next door didn't knock their victims out in order to rape them."
"Silence!" Scott commanded from just behind her left ear.
A few minutes passed while Teresa got her breath back from her second experience
with her CAP Device. And surprisingly she was still awake when North continued.
"We have no intention of rendering you unconscious, Miss Davidson. After all, we
can't have you sleeping in class." He smiled wryly at his own witticism. "Thelazine is
not that kind of drug. In fact, we doubt that you will even notice it effects." He
was purposefully vague. He glanced quickly at his wristwatch before going on with
his lecture. "We are running a bit short on time, so let me just say this to you, Miss
Davidson." He paused and stared at the naked young woman before him. "We have
never failed to turn out a satisfactory product." Her mouth fell open at his choice
of words. "That's correct, Miss Davidson. You are indeed a product. You have
been purchased. You might just as well put aside all thoughts of your past life and
love interests, such as your Mr. Whitworth, and concentrate on a new beginning.
Your new owner and life companion shall remain anonymous for now, but he has paid
for your training, and you will be delivered to him when I decide that you are ready."
North could see a storm brewing in the difficult girl. It was time for action, lest
they all be forced to endure another of her insolent temper tantrums. Adam North
was a decisive man. Turning to Cliff who'd been patiently awaiting further
instructions, he said, "Cliff, if you would please attend to Miss Davidson now." Then
to her Handler, Scott he said, "If you agree, we'll see how she does with Cliff. If
you then feel she needs further encouragement this afternoon, we can bring in a
few more volunteers. Might as well use my office. I don't believe we have any
more 'Double I's' this afternoon," North said in a conversational tone of voice. He
glanced at Alex who shook his head in confirmation. "She's already restrained,
after all," North continued with a shrug. "I have a lot of paper work to do, but I
don't think she'll be too much of a distraction." Then looking at Teresa, Adam
North said, "Miss Davidson, this interview is concluded."
Teresa was about to launch into another tirade when the big man named Cliff
stepped around the end of the Acceptance Frame. "Hey, just a damn minute,
asshole!" she threatened.
"Zippppp," was Cliff's reply as he raised the zipper of his special issue coveralls.
Without a word, he stepped in front of the restrained teenager. Calmly, Cliff
reached into his coveralls. Overwhelming curiosity drug Teresa's eyes downward as
the Handler fumbled inside his trousers. Then, to her astonishment and horror, Cliff
hauled out a very sizeable example of manhood.
While Teresa looked on with growing apprehension, Cliff prepared himself. Like all
of the highly trained staff at TYTC, Cliff was able to achieve full erection in a
matter of seconds.
"Y...you stay away from me, you monster!" she hissed.
Ignoring her, Cliff grabbed her right shoulder with one big hand, moved closer still
and with his left hand, he laid the head of his penis against Teresa's tummy.
Instinctively, the teenager tried to pull back from him, but to her dismay, her
Handler, Scott had silently positioned himself very closely behind her in order to
block her retreat. In addition, when Cliff advanced farther, Scott dropped his hand
behind Teresa and took hold of the exposed butt end of her CAP. Thus, using the
device like a handle, the Scott was able to hold the girl in position by preventing her
from moving her hips to either side.
"Nnnn... You bastards!" Teresa shrieked. Twisting her head quickly to the left, she
tried and almost succeeded in biting Cliff's hand on her shoulder. As a result of her
attempt, Scott took a fistful of her long, chestnut hair firmly in his free hand.
With the violent young woman so restrained, Cliff made another advance. Pushing
the large, rather blunt head of his penis between Teresa's cleanly shaven labia
majora , he started to hunt for her opening. The now frantic teenager wrenched
her hips backward and was promptly answered with a dull, thudding pain as the
seven inch long CAP device was expertly maneuvered in her rear end by Scott. In
fact, when Cliff at last centered on Teresa's vaginal portal, he nodded to his partner
who then began to slap the end of the CAP device. As the teenager's hips
reflexively bucked forward in response, she unwittingly thrust herself onto Cliff's
waiting manhood. It was a well rehearsed and well executed discipline that involved
both timing and teamwork, and before the cantankerous young lady knew what was
happening, Cliff was in her, his penis thrusting aside the convoluted walls of her
vaginal passage as he progressed deeper.
Had Teresa not been preoccupied with the circumstances of the rapid invasion upon
her person, she would have noticed that she was already beginning to self-lubricate.
This was, of course, one of the many effects of the wonder drug, Thelazine. By
gently stimulating the Bartholin's and Skene's glands, the designer drug encourages
the premature production of vaginal mucus, rendering the female more easily
penetrable sooner without the need for superfluous foreplay. Here is a brief
history of the development of this most useful compound.
Since the dawn of recorded history mankind has sought after a drug that would help
to speed up the often tedious process of seducing the female of the species.
Thankfully, about a year ago the Center's Research Department made a
breakthrough in the area of female mood enhancing compounds.
Among the many designer drugs that have emerged lately is the very popular drug,
Rohypnol (flunitrazepam), street-named "roofies," "roachies," "rophies," "ruffies,"
"roofenol," "roche," "La Rocha," "rope," and "the forget pill." (Rohypnol is
manufactured by the pharmaceutical company F. Hoffmann-La Roche). Rohypnol,
however, like all of the so called "date rape" drugs, tends to render the subject
unconscious as well as inducing a state of amnesia. It provides the ideal solution for
those who wish to enjoy sex with an unconscious female.
The Center's scientists, on the other hand, focused their efforts on developing a
drug that would induce a spirit of willingness and cooperation in a fully conscious
subject. Analysis was done on various derivatives of the drug Viagra, but test
subjects tended to become aggressive; a bit too willing, so to speak. The single
biggest challenge facing our chemists and physiologists was to formulate a
compound that would cause the subject to become more accommodating, but not to
the point where she develops a controlling or predatory disposition, a distinctly
distasteful characteristic in a female. Consistent with the Center's untarnished
record for success, the dedicated staff of men and women in our Research
Department gave us Thelazine.
Thelazine, is not an aphrodisiac in the sense that it does not affect the emotional or
mental state of the subject. Our scientists decided that in order to ensure that
subjects would be cooperative, and even submissive, their new compound should
affect the sensory nervous system and endocrine system and leave the subjects'
mental state unaltered. Thelazine influences a young lady's sense of touch,
specifically in those areas of her anatomy which pertain to reproduction. Using
complex processes of inductive stimulation far too involved to be fully explained in
this writing, Thelazine provides delicate augmentations to the nerve fibers in what
are commonly known as the erogenous zones. These chemical enhancements are
virtually undetectable to the female unless and until these areas of her anatomy are
in turn awakened by outside, or inside as the case may be, stimuli. At that time,
Thelazine gently "encourages" the subject to "listen" and respond to the natural
messages her body sends to her. Cooperation is achieved through totally instinctive
processes inherent in every female. The truly splendid property of Thelazine is
that its effects are so subtle, in the end the subject believes she is cooperating of
her own free will. Thelazine helps our Guests to make that crucial transition from
victim to participant with far less difficulty and anguish.
So despite her unwillingness, as the head of Cliff's penis nestled against her cervix,
Teresa experienced stronger than normal stimuli from the area of her clitoris when
the root of his ample shaft crushed against the highly sensitized organ, ever so
subtly nudging her toward arousal. The delicate tingling sensations and gradually
spreading warmth in her abdomen, in fact went unnoticed by Teresa as still she
sought to combat her Handlers.
Scott, however was fully in control of the situation. With a tight grip on her thick
hair at the scruff of her neck, the young Handler forced Teresa to face her defiler.
She could not turn away, nor would Scott allow her to look down. Each time she
tried, he yanked her head back, causing her to gasp from the pain.
"Huhuhhgg," she grunted in a most unladylike fashion when Cliff flexed his powerful
thighs, driving himself upward and onward to the point where Teresa could not
remember ever having been so fully involved with a man before.
"Silence, Miss Davidson!" Scott snapped from just behind her left ear.
"Look at me, Miss Davidson," Cliff ordered, positioning his wicked face just inches
from her own. "You will look at me while I attend to you," the man quoted the house
rules. Cliff then began to rock his hips from side to side, grinding himself into and
against her. Meanwhile, Scott maintained a tight hold on her CAP, preventing
Teresa from following her lover's movement and thus adding to the sensation of
being "stirred" with a baseball bat. It was when Cliff bent his knees and withdrew
approximately eight inches of himself from Teresa's supple confines that she began
to suspect that her body was seeking to betray her. Her face and neck felt hot,
and although she couldn't touch them, she knew that her nipples were getting hard.
She could feel the normally satin-like skin of her areolae puckering and drawing
tight. Unwittingly, Teresa subconsciously blamed herself for being weak. Just
another of the wonders of Thelazine. So imperceptible were its affects, that
subjects routinely placed culpability upon themselves, further eroding their sense
of self-worth.
Also, it certainly didn't help that her attacker appeared to be studying her. Unable
to turn her head, Teresa was forced to look directly at the man while he proceeded
to deliver a series of short thrusts, moving the broad head of his horrible manhood
in and out by just a few inches. Then without warning, and much to Teresa's
chagrin, she felt herself clamp down on him. Desperately she fought to reverse the
reflex reaction, but it was too late she knew when the man smiled patronizingly.
Teresa closed her eyes in utter humiliation.
"Look at me, Miss Davidson," Cliff demanded. "Do not close your eyes. Look at me
while I attend to you," he instructed. Then he added, "I can feel your body
beginning to participate. Deep down inside you like what I'm doing, don't you... don't
you?"
What the man said so incensed Teresa, that a rush of adrenaline flooded her
system, briefly overpowered the increasing effects of the Thelazine enough to
clear her head a bit. Instantly her rage returned.
"Don't flatter yourself, you detestable monster!" Teresa said to Cliff, her voice as
frigid as dry ice. I'll never give in to your perversions. She spat in his face.
His reaction was far less than satisfying, however. The man scarcely even flinched
when Teresa's spittle struck him on the right cheek. Not a word was spoken by
either Handler, in fact, as Cliff casually wiped his face on the sleeve of his coverall.
Then, ceasing his short strokes, Cliff thrust himself deeply into Teresa, not quickly
nor particularly hard. To the contrary, his entry could best be described as being
more irrevocable and all encompassing, causing his obstinate charge to throw her
head back and gasp as a deep routed shudder passed through her body. Cliff flexed
his powerful legs, pushing upward with greater force, and Teresa found herself
impaled and lifted upon his manhood, causing the nylon ankle restraints of the
Acceptance Frame to draw tight. It was definitely a new experience for the head-
strong teenager.
Things were not going well for her at all. During the early days and weeks of her
imprisonment, Teresa had fought a commendable fight. She'd resisted, at every
opportunity, the wishes of her captors, forcing them to use increased caution and
additional manpower to control her. Even though in the end, she'd been forced many
times to endure the depraved and perverse attentions of several disgusting men,
Teresa had struggled with a degree of hostility that was quite admirable. She'd
even managed on one occasion to intimidate a little weasel of a man into passing her
by and moving on to one of the other Guests on display in the Great Hall of the
hideous Facility. Following the incident where she'd all but bitten off a man's middle
finger, Teresa had forced her abductors to muzzle her. The heavy leather patch
over her otherwise sumptuous mouth had proven to be less than attractive,
however, and had saved Teresa from the clutches of more than one of the
despicable Clients of the Facility, who preyed upon the defenseless young women.
But Teresa was beginning to believe that the staff of TYTC were a different breed
of men, and her suspicions filled her with uneasiness. These men were not at all like
the exceptionally mundane and ungainly male monsters she'd been forced to endure
until this afternoon. To the contrary, the few white coverall clad men that Teresa
had seen since her arrival in her new home were not especially bad looking. Most
were large and well developed and conducted themselves with an air of authority. It
was their demeanor, actually, that worried Teresa the most. Perhaps it was the
manner in which they spoke, very calmly and professionally, or the way they carried
themselves, proudly and with a decided aura of superiority. In any case, the few
that Teresa had personally come in contact with made her feel small and vulnerable,
like a little girl. They didn't respond to her threats as expected, and her outright
attacks were rebuffed like one might brush aside a puppy who insisted on chewing
on your shoelaces. The way the deviant named Cliff now moved, for example, as he
developed a slow, steady rhythm, was both calculated and controlled. These men
were different. They would not be toyed with. They would not brook defiance nor
misbehavior. When she was able to make herself really look at Cliff's face, Teresa
was left with little doubt that he was in command, and the gradually developing
sentiment that she was in very deep trouble.
As Cliff thrust harder and deeper, Teresa suddenly cried out, both from his
commanding presence inside, and from the pain which shot down the insides of her
thighs. The strain on her ankles and legs was so great that she felt like she was
being drawn and quartered. In addition, a dull but pronounced ache spread through
Teresa's lower abdomen and up her spine, and with the cramping soreness came a
peculiar warmth. It was virtually undetectable at present, but as events
progressed, Teresa would become increasing aware of the amplified signals that her
femininity was sending to her beleaguered mind.
"Silence, young lady!" Scott spoke from behind her.
Teresa was, for the moment too involved to respond, which was probably just as
well. Her thoughts were being drawn inexorably inward to the ponderous mass
which passed unceasingly in and out. Teresa could actually picture in her mind, the
shape of its bulbous head and thick, heavily veined shaft, so exquisite were the
sensations being transmitted to her psyche by the supercharged walls of her vaginal
passage. Each ingress and egress of this reciprocating flesh engine was
accompanied by alternating periods of internal pressure, then suction... pressure,
then suction until Teresa felt as though she were being pumped up like a beach ball.
In fact, had anyone bothered to notice, her smooth tummy first bulged outward
then flattened and flexed with each stroke cycle. Internally, Teresa's reproductive
system was starting to awaken, her vaginal muscles responding in sequence to her
lover's motion. Occasionally a small pocket of air trapped inside of Teresa would
manage to push passed the head of the man's penis, bubble along its shaft through
the ever increasing volume of vaginal fluids, only to vent through her tightly packed
opening. The resulting very audible spurts and pops mixed with the customary
viscous, snapping sounds of vaginal intercourse were almost intolerably humiliating
to Teresa.
In fact, the only occasion upon which Cliff would diverge from his premeditated
course of servicing the young woman would be following such a discharge. Having
mastered in the psychology of non-consensual intercourse, Cliff knew well that any
sign of cooperation on the part of the female subject, be it emotional or physical, is
tremendously detrimental to her sense of well being, and that any acknowledgment
of those signs would only serve to advance his position of control and dominance.
This principle is but a small part of the highly enlightened program with which The
Youth Training Center achieves repeated success in the conditioning of young ladies
of all ages and walks of life. It is based in part the fundamental premiss that,
"Given a suitable amount of sexual impetus by a partner or apparatus, employing the
proper techniques, for an adequate period of time, any female, regardless of the
circumstances of her involvement, will eventually become an active and willing
participant in the association."
Each time the liquid, chattering sounds occurred, emanating from between the
teenager's widely spread legs, Cliff fixed her gaze with his cold eyes and smiled
intuitively as if to say, "You're mine, little girl. Your body knows it. I know it, and
soon you will give yourself to me, willingly."
To make matters worse, Scott had taken to tapping playfully on the butt end of
Teresa's CAP device in harmony with Cliff's thrusting. He didn't strike the appliance
hard enough to cause pain, but rather his expert manipulations resulted in bursts of
pressure of short duration being transmitted by the hard rubber torpedo into the
most tender areas of Teresa's bowel. Reflexively the young woman's hips jerked
forward and away from this source of pressure, and in so doing, drove her
rythmically onto her lover's impaling manhood. In this manner, the stubborn
teenager was encouraged to participate in relationship.
Alex looked on for awhile, until he was satisfied that his coworkers had matters well
in hand, then he turned to his superior and said, "If you won't be needing me any
more for the moment, I'll take my leave, sir."
Adam North glanced up from his paper work and nodded. "Sure, go right ahead,
Alex." Then he looked in the direction of the threesome just a couple of meters
away from his desk. All he could see of the audacious Miss Davidson at present
were her arms and legs protruding outward from behind Cliff's white clad body.
Handlers never disrobed. Their coveralls were specially designed to allow them
marvelous freedom of access and movement, and by remaining clothed, the Handler
held a perceived position of superiority over the naked Guest. Just another link in
the chain.
Heavy breathing and the occasional soft grunt were the only sounds that came from
the menage a trois for the time being. Less and less often over the passed half
hour had there been any verbal protests from Miss Davidson. Earlier outbursts had
been dealt with in the customary manner by providing the Guest with sexual
distraction until she could come to grips with the situation. The CAP device worked
so well for this, and Scott was proving himself to be quite adept with its application.
His timing was excellent and his touch subtle, North noticed.
He glanced at his wristwatch. "I give her about ten minutes," he said smiling at
Alex.
"I'll buy that," his Chief Handler responded. "I think we've made some significant
inroads with Miss Davidson, actually." He gazed approvingly in the direction of the
loving threesome.
From where he sat, Alex could see the young woman's body pressed between the
white uniforms of his coworkers. Scott no longer found it necessary to restrain her
buy her hair and presently rested one hand on her right shoulder while he used his
other to manipulate her CAP in concert with the thrusting of Cliff's hips. Cliff, Alex
noted, now held Miss Davidson's face up to his using only three fingers placed gently
beneath her chin. He'd increased his tempo slightly, but maintained the long, fluid
strokes of the true professional, rather than the jerky, unharmonious hammerings
of a rank amateur. Always attentive to details, Cliff positioned his upper body back
slightly so as to allow the girl's magnificent breasts to bounce freely to his cadence,
adding to the Thelazine enhanced sexual stimuli which flooded her consciousness.
Alex could plainly see the sheen of perspiration on the young woman's flanks. In
addition, her neck and shoulders and chest were flushed a warm rosy pink. He
couldn't see her face, but knew from years of experience the medley of expressions
that played there as Cliff expertly maneuvered her toward her apogee. There was
little doubt in Alex's mind that Miss Davidson was focused inward, her green eyes
fluid and hazy.
"No, sir, it won't be long now," Alex commented. "Do you think one will be enough
for now?" he asked, referring to the induced orgasm they all hoped would result
from their combined efforts.
"We'll see how she does following afterglow," North answered. "It's getting pretty
late, and we'll be pairing her up with a night partner soon after her exam and fitting
in any case. I suppose if she continues to show signs of defiance, I'll stay late and
supervise another session, but you can take off if you want to," the Headmaster
said conversationally.
The casual observer would probably be astounded by the off-handed manner in
which the two men conversed while just a few feet away a young woman, restrained
at the wrists and ankles, was being forcibly taken by two men. What the casual
observer wouldn't know, however, and would have no way of knowing, since the
Center's security was for all intents and purposes, bullet proof, is that the
Headmaster and his Chief Handler had both witnessed so many similar encounters
that they were, by now, second nature to them. Just another day at the office, so
to speak.
"OK, then," Alex replied with a smile. "I want to get down to the Gymnasium before
closing time. The Coach has a new apparatus he wanted to demonstrate. I think he
called it 'The Aquarium' or some such thing. You know how the Coach is. He sure
loves his toys." Both men chuckled.
As Alex left the office, he heard from over his shoulder Scott encouraging his
young charge, "Just let yourself go. I'm right here to help you, Miss Davidson.
Relax and concentrate. Focus on Cliff inside of you. That's right, little one. Center
yourself. Our little girl loves to be loved, doesn't she. Sure she does."
Just before the heavy door closed behind him, Alex caught the opening whimperings
of Miss Teresa Anne Davidson's very first non-consensual, induced orgasm. During
her stay at The Youth Training Center, she would enjoy many, many more.
Continued...
The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a graphically sexual nature and may involve
non-consensual sexual acts between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or dead is
purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only. If you are under the legal age of consent in
your local jurisdiction, or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
Authors Note: As a rule I prefer not to post multi-part stories, but this one is
getting so very long that unfortunately, I must.
T.Y.T.C. 4.5 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
The phenomenon of orgasm was relatively unfamiliar to Teresa to begin with, since
in her old life, she'd considered sex to be more of a chore than a pleasure. She
would later divulge to her instructors and Handlers that her sexual life with her
fianc‚, Mr. Gregory Whitworth, had been far from engaging. The man obviously did
not know how to adequately manage the young woman well enough to take advantage
of all she had to offer. Under the patient guidance of men such as Scott and Alex
and the rest of the TYTC staff of Handlers and Associate, Teresa would be
inspired to attain her full potential.
In any case, when the maelstrom of physical and emotional sensations associated
with feminine climax suddenly swept over her, Teresa was caught completely off
guard. Even the lewd remarks of encouragement uttered by her two lovers went
virtually unnoticed by the intoxicated teenager, so caught up in the moment was
she. Hot flashes of light and sizzling waves of pure ecstacy assailed her psyche.
She felt herself pressed between two torrid walls of, furry maleness in
interminable motion. A violent tremor passed through Teresa, causing her to gasp
audibly.
"Be still, Miss Davidson," the man named Scott murmured from close behind her
right ear. "Guests shall remain silent while being attended to," he quoted. Teresa
barely heard him. Her head fell back against Scott's chest, and she stared blindly
at her lover, Cliff while he continued to deliver to her. Scott took the opportunity
to slide his hand under Teresa's outstretched right arm and around her torso.
Taking her right breast in his big hand, Scott then began to kneed the firm and
supple flesh of that lovely mammalian globe. It's nipple was hard and erect, begging
to be pinched, and Scott, naturally obliged repeatedly.
Internally, Teresa Davidson's reproductive anatomy responded as expected. In
spite of her situation, which might be considered by less enlightened individuals as
being, shall we say, "unfortunate", Teresa's vaginal muscles began to contract
sequentially, in essence milking her lover's steadily thrusting penis. As she gradually
yielded to the effects of the wonder drug, Thelazine, Teresa experienced a growing
emotional sense of completeness. All that was female about Teresa Davidson
"spoke" to her of fullness and harmony with an urgency that could not be ignored.
She was becoming what the Handlers refer to as "Womb Centered". All of her
being turned inward to focus on the presence in the center of her femininity. Pangs
of discord washed over her each time the all consuming presence withdrew, leaving
her hollow and decidedly lacking. Then upon his return Teresa silently begged him
to stay.
In full accordance with TYTC's time proven premiss regarding a female's inevitable
willingness to participate even under conditions of perceived duress, Teresa
Davidson looked deeply into her lover's eyes, pleading with him, not to stop, but
rather to make her whole. Her face, once filled with hostility, was flushed with
unrestrained ardor. Her eyes, once emerald lasers bent on cutting the hearts out
of every man present that day in the Headmaster's office, were now muzzy and
unfocused, and although she gazed obediently at her lover, looking him directly in
the eye, Cliff plainly recognized Teresa's "Inward Stare". That wonderful wide-eyed
look of wonder that a young lady gets when she at last is entirely wrapped around
her lover, both physically and emotionally.
From his seat behind his desk, Adam North looked up from his seemingly endless
pile of paperwork when he heard the young woman moan. He knew the sound of
orgasm when he heard it. With a sense of both satisfaction and relief he listened
as his Associates gently chastised the impassioned teenager while continuing to
administer to her. North was extremely gratified that Miss Davidson appeared to
be responding to Thelazine very well. Of course, most of the progress with Teresa
was entirely due to the efforts of his trained staff. The Headmaster was not the
only person to recognize the latent passion behind the Davidson woman's pugnacious
exterior. The months of exhaustive training that each of his Handlers underwent,
consistently paid off. Comprehensive courses in female psychology reveal that the
more aggressive and combative young ladies usually make the best companions once
their energies are channeled through proper conditioning. However, North knew
very well that although Teresa had responded favorably to her first induced
arousal, there would be many difficult days to follow. He looked on approvingly as
the girl laid her head against her Handler's chest and submitted to Cliff's slow and
steady ravishment.
A moment later the Headmaster watched Cliff flex his muscular thighs, once again
lifting the helpless girl up with his manhood, allowing the weight of her body to
force her down onto him completely. There was no question in North's mind when
the moment of insemination occurred. An expression of pensive surprise suddenly
graced Teresa Davidson's flushed face, but having been the receptacle for literally
quarts of semen over the past few weeks, that expression quickly changed to one of
recognition then humiliation.
At the Facility where Teresa had spent the last three weeks, Clients were allowed
to inseminate the Guests for their own pleasure and sense of personal fulfillment.
Pregnancies were controlled by rudimentary but effective birth control measures.
The Youth Training Center, on the other hand, handled these matters in an entirely
different way. At TYTC every detail is considered. Not a single opportunity to
make emotional inroads with the Guests is wasted. Extensive studies have shown,
for example, that the female orgasm can be an extremely effective and powerful
tool when managed correctly. By either allowing or withholding orgasm, a young
lady's emotional state can be profoundly affected.
Take Teresa's Induction Interview for example. Here, orgasm is permitted after
being induced in an "adversarial" setting. Unaware of the influences of the drug
Thelazine, Teresa believes that she has been overpowered and subjugated, and that
due to her personal weakness of character, she has given in to her assailants. Her
own body has betrayed her. She has failed. The resulting erosion of her self-
esteem is of inestimable value. In other situations where a young lady's Handler
recognizes her desire for orgasm, climax might be delayed or even denied in an
effort to foster an attitude of longing and dependancy.
It has long been known by the founders of The Youth Training Center that non-
consensual insemination can produce deeply seated emotional contradictions within a
female, placing her maternal instincts and natural desires to procreate in direct
conflict with the circumstances of her insemination. Again, any chance to chip away
at her self-image and her belief system is considered to be highly beneficial.
Medical history has documented time and again that pregnancy, more than any other
single occurrence in her life can generate the most significant and profound
emotional and physical changes in a young woman. Due, in part, to outdated
prejudices, and regrettably, a lack of vision, this valuable educational tool has been
more or less ignored. Recently, however, our staff physiologists and psychologists
have begun to dabble in the area of "Managed Pregnancy". Less than a year ago at
both TYTC and The Facility, contraception regimens were strictly adhered to, but
no longer.
By allowing its Guests to be impregnated on a case by case basis, several bold new
avenues for the enlightenment and education of our family of young ladies have
been opened.
The first benefit is obvious. Contrary to popular belief, a female instinctively
knows when she's been fertilized. Often that belief begins only as an intuition, a
sneaking suspicion that her deepest sanctuary has been invaded. It has been said
that this instinctive realization can even be seen in her eyes at the exact time of
fertilization. Then, as the days pass, she gradually becomes more certain, and with
that growing certainty, comes the knowledge that she has been taken utterly by a
mate not of her choosing. The knowledge that he has left a part of himself inside
of her which in turn has joined with the very fiber of her being on a cellular level
causes a devastating sense of personal violation and consumption. The resulting loss
of "self" to circumstances beyond her control is quite effective and long lasting.
If the pregnancy is allowed to continue, a host of well documented changes in her
emotions begin to surface. The hormonal influences upon her mental capacities
alone are enough to provoke considerable confusion and uncertainty. Her natural
nesting instincts tend to steer her toward one mate. Thus, although she realizes
that she is surrounded by men who previously were her foes, the very roots of her
femininity subtly encourages her toward developing loyalties toward her partners,
and then eventually toward one mate. The urge for monogamy is a powerful urge in
the pregnant female, and one that we now use to our advantage. This very instinct
can be molded into what we refer to as Handler Loyalty. It is then a relatively
simple matter later on to transfer this loyalty to her new life companion. Although
the program of Managed Pregnancy is still in its infancy, it is being employed more
and more often in the Center's never ending search for excellence. At the time of
this writing, Guest pregnancies during this testing phase are allowed to run an
average of two months before being aborted. To date, test subjects have
responded better than expected.
North flipped a page in Teresa's file and located data on her menstrual cycle which
was graciously provided by the Facility upon her transfer. While his men finished up
with her, the TYTC Headmaster noted that the teenager was entering her "ripe"
phase. He jotted a note in the "Training Procedures" section, instructing Teresa's
future Handlers and Attendants that should she become pregnant, the pregnancy
be allowed to develop for an unspecified period of time.
Teresa's belief that these men were merely a group of unruly sadists and rapists
was pure unfounded conjecture. In reality, there wasn't a day that went by or a
minute in any day for the Guests of The Youth Training Center that wasn't carefully
planned and executed. Each seeming act of heartlessness or brutality had an
express purpose. Nothing was random. Nothing left to chance. The Center
thought of everything.
"Be silent, Miss Davidson," Scott was forced to remind the impassioned teenager
following a second audible moan. Her first had been forgiven. Scott knew, not only
from having worked with Cliff several times in the past that he'd just made a
deposit with his young charge, but also because her entire body had abruptly
stiffened when she accepted his offering. His fingertips resting gently on the butt
of Teresa's CAP at the time of insemination, Scott felt the sympathetic clutching of
her anal sphincter on the hard rubber plug which he knew was concurrent with the
spontaneous milking action of her vaginal muscles.
Still caught up in the mindlessness of Womb Centering, Teresa barely heard Scott's
prompting. She felt his warm maleness against her skin where he pressed against
her. She felt his big hand rhythmically kneading her breast. She felt the hard
rubber appliance slowly rotating in her rear end. But mostly, Teresa Davidson
focused on the all-consuming displacement of her abdominal spaces. The pressure
and depth of Cliff's penetration was mind numbing as once more she found herself
lifted upward upon his fleshy engine. Then just as the ankle restraints at the lower
corners of the Acceptance Frame pulled tight, the fiery eruption struck. The first
pulse felt like it would drive Teresa's spine through the top of her head, opening her
eyes and causing her to take note. As the seeding continued, Teresa stiffened
noticeably.
"Mmmmmm...mmm," the teenager moaned pitifully as the mounting pressure in her
tummy forced her lover's viscus offering into every nook and cranny. As mentioned
earlier, Teresa had been on the receiving end of a goodly quantity of semen during
the passed three weeks, so the sensation of male ejaculation was not an unfamiliar
one for her. But this was different somehow. It felt more final. Although Teresa
was much to wrapped up in the moment for truly cognizant thought, instinctively
she knew that she was being fertilized by the big Handler.
"Easy now, little one," Cliff coaxed in an effort to relax his young partner. He
actually felt back pressure as his third salvo entered the tight, clutching confines
of his young lover.
The first beautiful swimmer that lead the assault upon the mucous block which
guarded the tiny opening in the center of Teresa's cervix was quickly rebuffed and
subsequently perished in the attempt, but right behind him were millions more. Her
gates fell quickly, and the troops swarmed into the innermost chamber of Teresa
Davidson. Deep in this sanctum lay one microscopic sample of Teresa's DNA in the
form of a recently ovulated egg. In seconds the assault was on. Thousands fell,
before one tiny soldier succeeded in penetrating the shield membrane of the ovum.
It was at that exact instance when Teresa and her Handler truly became one, and
Cliff and his superior, Adam North witnessed her realization of conception plainly
etched in her stunned facial expression.
Cliff dutifully held himself deep inside of the teenager until he felt that she was
finished with her milking processes. Then he removed his finger tips from beneath
Teresa's chin, and unceremoniously exited her. Teresa was much to dazed from the
whole experience to even think about what might happen next. So she simply
allowed herself to drift in the warm pool of afterglow, totally unaware of the
biological changes that her body was already going through. Teresa Anne Davidson
was one very pregnant young lady.
As though nothing at all out of the ordinary had occurred, Cliff packed himself away
and zipped up. Giving the dazed young woman no further thought, Cliff turned to
Scott and asked, "Will that be all, sir?"
"Yes, that's all for now, Cliff. Good work," Scott said.
"Praise in public, scold in private," Alex had once instructed him, reciting one of the
axioms of correct personnel management. One day Scott would be a leader in the
organization.
"But please stand by, if you don't mind. After I suction her, I'll more than likely
require assistance in transporting her to her exam."
"No problem," Cliff replied good-naturedly.
From his many hours of OB/GYN training, Scott knew that if the teenager were
going to conceive, she would have done so by now. After releasing his controlling
hold on her CAP, Scott stepped around the A-Frame and faced the girl. Her face
was still flushed, but her eyes were clearing. Her breathing had slowed
considerably, and she once again stood on her own two feet, spread wide though
they were.
"You've done quite well, Miss Davidson," Scott commented idly as he reached into
the zippered kit on his belt. "After the way you started out this afternoon, I
thought we might never get through to you." He smiled at the chestnut haired
beauty.
Teresa's sense of outrage was quickly returning. She glared defiantly up at the
Handler from her vulnerable position. In her womb, the single cell became two.
While the cellular mitosis continued inside of Teresa, her Handler knelt down in
front of her and removed an odd looking small clear canister from his belt kit. Next
he took out a short length of clear vinyl tubing which he attached to a fitting on the
top of the canister. While Teresa looked on with growing apprehension, Scott then
fastened what appeared to be some kind of primer bulb to a second fitting on the
canister.
"There we are," Scott muttered to himself as was his habit. At the last minute,
Teresa noticed that the tubing he'd affixed to the canister had a rounded tip at its
bitter end. This rounded end, Scott now pushed up into Teresa's vagina with no
hesitation what so ever. "Now we'll just retrieve that part of Cliff's deposit that
you didn't use, young lady," Scott commented casually as he began to work the
squeeze bulb, pumping it rapidly in his left hand. With his right, the Handler guided
the tip of the tubing he'd placed into Teresa here and there inside of her.
Accompanied by what some might consider to be sickening sounds of liquid suction, a
milky viscus fluid began to travel down the tubing and bubble into the clear canister.
When the sound of his suctioning changed to one similar to that of a child reaching
the end of his milkshake, Scott muttered, "Let's try up here," then pushed the
tubing deeper into Teresa's vagina. He knew he'd hit pay dirt when the sound
abruptly deepened and he felt resistance on the primer bulb. Glancing quickly
downward, Scott watched a steady stream of the milky mixture of semen and
vaginal mucous spurt into the reservoir canister. "That's better," he said with a
smile. "My, my, Cliff really filled you up, young lady."
Teresa thought she would throw up as the man callously moved the repulsive device
around inside of her. "What on Earth could he be doing?" she wondered disgustedly.
When once more, the sound of a straw at the bottom of an empty milkshake was
heard in the Headmaster's office, Scott removed the tubing from Teresa's vaginal
passage and stood up holding the gruesome portable suctioning device. For effect,
Scott held the canister up in front of Teresa and swirled its syrupy contents
before her eyes. "Thank goodness we didn't waste any," he said happily. "Now don't
you worry," he continued smiling at Teresa's expression of disgust. "We'll save this
for you for later, my dear." Teresa mouth fell open in shock. She could think of
nothing to say.
Teresa's Induction Interview was over at last. The Headmaster sat quietly behind
his big desk and observed while the young teenager was freed from the bondage of
the A-Frame. Although a scuffle was certainly possible, neither Scott nor Cliff
expected one. Even a fiery tempered young woman like Teresa had her limits, the
men knew. She might attempt to resist, but undoubtedly she was fatigued and
could be easily overpowered if necessary. As it turned out, the teenager could
barely stand without help from Cliff. Then once Scott decided that she could walk,
Teresa was led from the Headmaster's office without further comment.
Continued...
The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a graphically sexual nature and may involve
non-consensual sexual acts between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or dead is
purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only. If you are under the legal age of consent in
your local jurisdiction, or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
Authors Note: As a rule I prefer not to post multi-part stories, but this one is
getting so very long that unfortunately, I must.
T.Y.T.C. 4.6 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
Her first few steps were rather painful actually as the seven inch anal insert that
the Center had provided her with jabbed painfully at Teresa's insides. One could
always tell a new Guest by her waddling gate. After a few days, however, she would
become used to it and adjust herself around its continuous presence. But always it
would be there for her, drawing Teresa's attention away from those things that are
unimportant and helping her to focus.
Padding along behind her Handler, Teresa felt extremely exposed in her present
state of nakedness. "At least in that last hideous place they'd dressed her," she
thought to herself. "Let go of me," Teresa snapped obstinately when after walking
a few yards, the fact that she was being led by the hand like a small child became
abhorrent to her. Without a word, Scott transferred his grip to her wrist and
pulled the upset teenager along behind him. "I said, let go!" Teresa shouted and
began to struggle with Scott.
"How quickly they forget," Scott muttered to himself. He didn't have to look back
for he knew what was about to take place. As he tugged his stubborn charge along
against her will, Cliff came up from behind. Scott heard the telltale grunt
characteristic of disciplinary CAP management, and knew that Cliff had offered
Teresa some encouragement.
She'd leaned over and nearly succeeded in biting Scott's hand when the blow was
struck. As a result, Teresa pitched forward and came very close to falling when the
vile instrument in her rear end was struck by the second Handler. By design, the
force of his blow was direction to the base of Teresa's spine, knocking the wind out
of the disobedient teenager, and causing her knees to buckle. Cliff was quick to
grab her under her armpit thus preventing an embarrassing spill. Scott, refusing to
recognize the young woman's distress, continued to tug on her wrist, forcing her to
stumble behind him down the corridor. Hearing her grunt a second time as a result
of some additional inspiration, Scott at last looked back at the chestnut haired
beauty he had in tow.
"Kindly keep up, Miss Davidson. We have a busy schedule this evening." The look of
astonishment the girl gave him was almost comical. "They're all the same for the
first week or so," Scott mused. "Head strong, contentious, determined to resist,
still certain that somehow they will be delivered from their fate."
Since the Center opened nearly fourteen years ago, not a single Guest has ever left
the fold before her time. When at last, a young lady is deemed ready to graduate,
she is not the same young lady who once stood before the Headmaster's desk at her
"Double I". In addition, the placement program at TYTC makes absolutely certain
that the new life she will be assuming is far removed from her past existence. No
details are left unattended to. All the "I's" are dotted and the "T's" crossed. The
security system at The Youth Training Center is altogether failsafe.
Generally after the first week, Guests begin to become somewhat less
insubordinate. By the time they enter their second week, they have usually come to
grips with the fact that they will not be rescued or released. Also, the daily
training regimens they engage in tend to keep them quite well occupied. After two
weeks, the Center's persistent program of conditioning using sexual impetus begins
to erode their sense of self. Then once the trappings of her old belief system are
cast aside, the work begins to create a new young woman with fresh new ideals.
Arrogance is replaced by willingness, vanity by humility, and impertinence by
obedience. Where once there was discord, harmony reigns.
Teresa's life was far from harmonious at the moment. She'd ceased her struggling
following Cliff's second swat of her CAP Device. Now she merely muttered curses
under her breath while she was lead down a labyrinth of corridors toward an
uncertain future.
The Youth Training Center was indeed immense. Constructed in utter secrecy, the
entire sprawling structure with its offices, laboratories, dormitories, classrooms
and other training facilities was built three stories underground. Only one well
concealed and extremely well guarded portal allowed entrance and egress of both
pedestrian and vehicular traffic to the complex. Additionally, Adam North alone
knew of its precise location. Staff members as well as Guests and the occasional
visiting Client are ferried in by unmarked shuttle vans. The van drivers are
permitted to make one trip only for which they are paid an enormous amount of
money. Then they are given a drug which in effect eradicates short term memory.
The average duty shift for Handlers and other Associates is six months. While in
residence, all of their needs are met and exceeded. The quality of work life of its
employees is extremely important to the Center, and because of this, the system
has worked flawlessly for over fourteen years.
The soreness resulting from her unfamiliarity with her anal appliance was becoming
intolerable when at last Teresa was brought to a halt before a recessed door
marked "Fitting Room". Scott entered his pass code on a keypad on the wall and the
steel door hissed open.
Turning to Cliff he said, "Give me a hand getting her secured, and then you may
carry on." Cliff nodded his understanding, then placed a hand on Teresa's back
between her shoulder blades. With Scott leading her by the hand and Cliff applying
gentle but firm pressure from behind, Teresa was ushered into the white tiled
room. Momentarily blinded by the bright lights glaring off the tile walls and floor,
Teresa hesitated in the entryway as the door hissed closed behind her. "Come along
now, Miss Davidson," Scott said as the two men pulled her into the room.
As her eyes adjusted to the gleam of white tile and stainless steel, Teresa was
afforded a brief look around while she stumbled forward. "The room looked a lot
like an operating room in a hospital," she thought as she eyed the grey surfaced lab
benches and the many drawers and cabinets that lined three of the room's four
walls.
"Come now, Miss Davidson. Let's not dawdle," she heard the man named Scott say.
Looking at, then past the white coverall clad man, Teresa saw what the two
Handlers were guiding her toward.
At first glance, the apparatus looked like a form
fitting fiberglass chair with a high back and head
rest. As she was pulled closer, Teresa's anxiety level
increased when she noticed the restraint bands on
the arms of the strange chair. What she really
didn't like seeing were the two gynecological style
stainless steel stirrups, complete with ankle
restraints attached to the contrivance. What
Teresa was looking at, of course, is called "The
Cooperation Seat".
The fiberglass, anatomically shaped seat standsd at approximately the same height
as a barber's chair and has controls that allow it to be raised or lowered to any
height. The entire chair can also be tilted, allowing its occupant to be seated
upright or leaned back into a recumbent position. The real distinguishing feature of
the apparatus is the seat itself. The seat bottom is split into two sections such
that the occupant's thighs are cradled and supported while leaving her buttocks
free and accessible. Attached to the seat are two leg extensions which end in
stainless steel stirrups. The lower extremity extensions are articulated such that
they can be adjusted in virtually any direction, side to side or up and down. On the
sides of the chair are arm rests which, like the leg extensions, are also adjustable.
Additionally, like the leg rests, they are equipped with nylon restraint straps which
fasten with velcro closures. Just above the top of the seat back a padded restraint
band is attached to a head rest at neck level. Once seated in the "Cooperation
Seat", and restrained at the throat, arms and legs, a Guest is completely
immobilized.
Teresa wasn't given the opportunity to refuse or resist. Without a word, the two
Handlers each took an arm, and Teresa was lifted off her feet and plopped
summarily down into the specialty chair. With a deftness and efficiency that only
comes from practice, the dumbfounded teenager was secured to the Cooperation
Seat, and then, as promised, Cliff was excused.
Scott stood gazing down at his young charge for several moments with an approving
look on his face. No one spoke. It wasn't until she was securely strapped to the
evil piece of furniture that Teresa got a really good look at her tormentor. For the
first time, Teresa realized how young he was.
At last, breaking the uncomfortable silence, Scott said, "Well, if you have no
objections, Miss Davidson, we'll get started." Teresa opened her mouth to say
something, but Scott cut her off. "Silence, Miss Davidson," he instructed. Then he
quoted one of those damnable rules, "A Guest shall only speak when told to do so."
Gratifyingly, it worked. The stubborn young woman shut her mouth and sat glaring
at him coldly.
Teresa was seated in a more or less upright position for the time being. Her legs
were bent at the knee and spread only slightly, her ankles perhaps eighteen inches
apart. She was somewhat reclined as one might sit in a comfortable lounger. The
ankle and wrist restraints were fastened securely while the padded band about her
neck was left loose enough that she could turn her head freely. She looked quite
cozy, actually.
Picking up a metallic clipboard from a lab table beside her seat, Scott said in a
matter-of-fact tone of voice, "We shall begin your examination, Miss Davidson, with
several questions. I expect for you to answer them promptly and truthfully."
Teresa refused to look at him, and Scott allowed her transgression to slide for the
moment in favor of getting started. "According to our records, Miss Davidson,"
Scott began. "You are eighteen years of age. Your date of birth is April 21, 1982."
He paused and looked up at the young girl. No response. Continuing, "You are five
feet, six inches tall and weigh one hundred eleven pounds. Brown hair, green eyes.
Any other distinguishing marks, Miss Davidson? Moles or birthmarks?" When again
she refused to answer, Scott muttered, "None noted." He scribbled on his pad.
"Your exterior dimension are currently Hips: 32", Waist: 20", Breasts: 35". Are we
OK so far?" He waited. "At some point, Miss Davidson, you will have to answer my
questions. Your repeated impertinence has been duly noted in your permanent
records, and I suggest that if you do not wish to suffer the consequences, you
should reconsider your position and cooperate." He glared at the recalcitrant young
woman. "Look at me when I address you, Miss Davidson," Scott ordered. His
patience was rapidly waning. Reaching out, he took her chin in his hand and raised
her face to his. Teresa naturally tried to resist, but Scott, although young, was
very strong and easily overpowered her. "If you prefer, I can call in a volunteer or
two to assist you with the decision making process," he added ominously. At last
Teresa looked at him. Her emerald eyes were clear and filled with defiance and
willfulness. But as she stared into the cold dark eyes of the young Handler, her
confidence suddenly flagged, and the obstinate young woman averted her gaze.
Having won the latest battle of wills, Scott released Teresa and continued. His
questions were innocuous and non-invasive. "Are you experiencing any health
problems, Miss Davidson, or are you under a doctor's care at the present time?"
Glancing up, he was gratified to see Teresa shake her head, "No". Scott paid very
close attention to Teresa's body language during this interview portion of the
examination. The girl's shoulders had drooped noticeably following his first
question. "Are you currently taking any prescribed medications?"
"No," Teresa replied softly.
With a nod in her direction Scott continued, "How about allergies, Miss Davidson?
Are you allergic to any prescription drugs like penicillin, for example?"
Teresa lowered her gaze then shook her head.
"Thank you, Miss Davidson. Your cooperation is appreciated." He smiled almost
warmly. "Do you drink alcohol or smoke cigarettes?"
That question seemed to strike a cord with Teresa. Perhaps there was some alcohol
abuse in her past. "No way!" she responded adamantly. "I'm not stupid, you know!"
"Very well, then," Scott continued calmly. He made a note in her file. "Did father
or estranged mother have a drinking problem?" He would look into this possibility.
It could be useful. "Have you used any recreational drugs in the last six months,
marijuana or cocaine, perhaps?"
Teresa looked away sheepishly. She did not answer.
"Miss Davidson, answer the question, please," Scott prompted after a suitable
pause. "Do you use drugs other than prescription drugs?" He waited. When no
answer was forthcoming, Scott again took the young woman by her chin and forced
her to look at him. "You were doing so well, Miss Davidson. Please don't disappoint
me. We will find out, you know, either through outside sources or drug testing, so
you might just as well cooperate." Staring into the troubled green eyes of his
young charge, Scott could see 'the wheels turning' as Teresa considered her options.
At last, in a tiny guilt ridden voice the teenager whispered, "I smoked some pot with
my brother this summer."
"I beg your pardon, Miss Davidson," Scott responded. He'd heard what she said but
wanted her to repeat her admission. He jotted another note in her file.
"Brother...Drugs?"
Teresa stared in disbelief into the young man's dark eyes. "Are you deaf?" she
asked incredulously. "I said that I smoked some pot with my brother. What's it to
you anyway?"
In a very stern tone of voice, Scott retorted, "It is not your place to question our
motives, Miss Davidson. Simply answer the questions. Any other drug use?" he
asked flatly. "Very well, I'll consider your silence to mean "No"," Scott said after a
moment. He released his grip on her chin, and she looked away. "What about birth
control pills, Miss Davidson?" It was his first somewhat personal question.
Surprisingly, she answered rather promptly. "No," Teresa replied flatly. Then she
added under her breath, "Not that it's any of your business."
Again Scott was forced to correct her. "To the contrary, Miss Davidson.
Everything about you is our business." He let his statement sink in for a moment,
then went on. "Let's discuss your gynecological history."
Teresa gazed up at him in utter astonishment. "This is unbelievable!" she thought.
"At what age did you begin menstruating and are your periods usually light or
heavy?" Scott asked the stupefied teenager.
Teresa was so astounded by the gall of the man that she caught herself staring at
him with her mouth hanging open, and several moments passed before she found her
voice. "Who do you think you are, asking me a personal question like that! You're no
doctor. You can go to hell, if you think I'm going to answer you!" With that, Teresa
shut her mouth and sat in obstinate silence, glaring defiantly at Scott, daring him
with her eyes to test her determination.
Scott stood in thoughtful silence for a good long time while he assessed the
situation. Then like the professional he was, he made his decision. Teresa tracked
him warily with her eyes as he moved to an intercom panel on the far wall. She
could not hear what was said, but she didn't have to wait long to find out the results
of his communication. It seemed like only a matter of seconds before the door
opened and a tall man dressed in the garb of a TYTC Handler walked in. Teresa
knew instantly that she was in trouble. Scott had called her bluff.
"Hello, Scott. Long time no see," the tall Handler said as he walked toward the
Cooperation Seat and its stubborn occupant. "Got a difficult one, I hear."
"Hi, Larry," Scott replied cordially. "It has been awhile. Haven't seen you around
much lately. How have you been?"
"Just great," the other man answered as he stepped up beside Teresa and looked
down at her appraisingly.
"Larry, this is Miss Teresa Davidson, and you're correct, she is indeed proving to be
troublesome."
"Hmmm," Larry said thoughtfully. "She's not bad looking. Nice breasts. Perhaps a
little on the old side," he chuckled good naturedly. Then he added, "What's her
story?" Without compunction, the tall Handler placed a hand on Teresa's right
breast and began to manipulate its supple flesh.
"Fuck you!" Teresa screeched in response. "Get your hand off of me, you filthy
pervert!" she hissed while attempting to twist her torso away from his invasive
touch.
"Both mens' eyebrows went up in surprise. Then Larry chortled, "Oh, I see." He
continued to fondle Teresa despite her protests.
"Yeah," Scott sighed, unable to mask his growing frustration. "She was sent over
from The Facility. From what I understand, one of their clients who's been
spending some time with her wants to take her home, but she's caused so much
trouble during her stay that he wanted her sent to us for some remedial training
and preparation. Can't honestly say that I blame the man. She's been nothing but
trouble since she arrived. I don't know what anyone would want with this one."
Scott shook his head in perplexity.
"Well," Larry offered after a brief pause. "Perhaps I can be of some assistance
here." He stared down at the recalcitrant young woman in the Cooperation Seat.
"You've got quite a reputation, young lady," he said to Teresa, then pinched her
nipple quite hard.
"Ow! You bastard!" Teresa yelped. She stared hotly up at the Handler named Larry
who was a good bit older than either she or her younger tormentor. "Do you get
your jollies by abusing helpless women like the rest of your animal friends?" she
hissed with a distinct air of contempt. She was rewarded with another pinch.
Ignoring the disrespectful teenager, Larry said to his younger coworker. "I've been
away at school for the last month or so, finishing up my degree. I learned some
interesting new techniques having to do with anal manipulation which might be
pertinent here, and it appears that Miss Davidson could use some encouragement."
Both men gazed down at Teresa for a minute, thinking. "So, what do you say?"
Larry asked, holding his hands out toward Scott plaintively.
"Sure, Larry," Scott replied gratefully. "If you have the time and don't mind. I
could certainly use some help."
"No problem at all, my friend," Larry said cheerfully. "Glad to help out. So what're
you using for Presence at the moment?"
"We put a size seven in her at her Double I," Scott informed the older man. "She
was such a challenge, the Headmaster insisted that Alex CAP her early."
Teresa looked from one odious man to the other while they discussed her like a side
of beef. She couldn't believe this was happening.
"Have you the authority to remove it?" Larry asked, referring to Teresa's anal
appliance.
"Sure do," Scott said.
"OK, go ahead and clear her anal passage while I get set up," Larry instructed,
holding up a kit that looked like a canvass tool roll. Then he turned and placed it on
the small table nearby.
"Hey, what're you... huhhh!" Teresa's query was cut short when Scott stooped and
reached beneath the seat of the Cooperation Chair. By design, the young lady's rear
end was easily accessible, so with a slow twisting motion, Scott withdrew the seven
inch long CAP Device that had been a part of Teresa for the passed several hours.
In spite of the distastefulness of the events leading up its placement inside of her,
the teenager experienced a distinct feeling of emptiness and incompleteness
following its removal, thanks in part to the wonder drug, Thelazine. Scott took the
torpedo shaped device to the lab sink and cleaned it, then returned and placed it on
the side table, ready for re-insertion later.
Meanwhile, the older Handler, Larry, busied himself with his kit. He unrolled the
canvass pouch revealing several smaller compartments. Each contained a tool or
device of uncertain purpose. Scott looked on with great interest while his
Associate prepared his instruments.
"New stuff," Scott commented astutely.
"You bet," Larry replied. Then he removed from the kit a stainless steel cylinder
about ten inches in length and approximately the diameter of a "C" cell flashlight.
When his partner held the device up for his inspection, Scott noted that its
surface was knurled to afford the operator a better grip. Scott also noticed six
small metal buttons near one end of the cylinder. "Here, feel the weight," Larry
said, offering the instrument to his fellow Handler. We call it the Inter-Colonic
Exciter; ICE for short.
The device proved to be a bit heavier than Scott would have guessed as he studied
the instrument more closely. One end of the cylinder was blunt and appeared to
have a removable end cap, while the other tapered to a diameter of approximately
one quarter inch. At the end of the taper was a shining steel sphere of perhaps
twice that diameter. Scott turned the instrument over in his hand slowly, then he
looked up at Larry. "What do the controls do?" he asked.
"Press the top center button," Larry said.
"Wow!" Scott commented appreciatively when the narrow end of the device began
to silently elongate. Looking closer, Scott couldn't see any sign of a joint or seam
where the quarter inch shaft slowly telescoped outward from within the larger
diameter handle. "How long will it get?" he asked, releasing the button. In his hand
he held the knurled handle of the device which before his eyes had sprouted an
extrusion practically eighteen inches in length and a quarter of an inch in diameter.
At its end was the shining sphere.
"Pretty remarkable, huh?" Larry commented proudly. He had been selected out of a
group of ten candidates in his class to test the new device in the field. "It's totally
new technology. I see you noticed there's no visible junction between the handle
and the wand."
Scott nodded, looking closely at the device again.
"Would you believe the wand will extend to almost three feet!"
"Wow!" Scott responded in amazement.
Meanwhile, Teresa sat staring at the ominous looking device with a rising sense of
dread.
"So what's it do?" Scott asked of his partner.
"You're familiar with our Vaginal Micrometer, no doubt."
Scott nodded to the affirmative.
"This proto-type basically has similar stimulative functions to the VM, although the
R&D boys haven't built in the measuring capabilities yet. They say they'll have that
ready in the next model release. But for now, this little jewel will deliver a variety
of interesting and useful sensations to areas of the female anatomy that were
previously unreachable without surgery," Larry explained. The two men were silent
for a moment as they gazed at the extraordinary instrument which Scott held.
"One remarkable feature is that although the wand appears to be metallic, it is
actually made of a highly advanced polymer compound. Here let me show you
something." Larry took the unit from Scott, then holding it almost reverently, he
pressed and held the top, left button.
"Holy shit!" Scott exclaimed in a somewhat unprofessional manner. Before his eyes
the eighteen inch wand started to bow in an almost lifelike fashion. Larry let the
bending continue until the wand had achieved practically a ninety degree angle to the
handle. Then upon releasing the control, the two men watched the wand return to
its original linear configuration.
"Another interesting thing about this polymer is that it's completely non-
conductive," Larry said. When Scott gave him a curious look, he explained further.
"All stimulative issuances are confined to the half inch sphere at the end of the
wand. Nothing is transmitted down the surface of the shaft."
"Ahh," Scott responded, immediately grasping the significance of what Larry
described.
"Rightttt," Larry said with a grin. "Because of this we are afforded enormous
control over what part or parts of her we tingle." He grinned again. "And tingle it
does. It'll do burst pulses of up to four hundred watt seconds, and it's harmonic
resonance capabilities are greatly improved over those of the Vaginal Micrometer,"
Larry went on to explain. "It can do some really neat stuff," the older Handler said
proudly. He pushed another button and retracted the wand into its handle then he
said to Scott, "So let's see how your troublesome Miss Davidson responds to our
new toy, shall we?"
"You bet," Scott agreed enthusiastically. "There's a low stool over there, if you
need it," the younger Handler said, pointing.
Teresa had remained uncharacteristically silent all the while that Larry was
describing his hideous new plaything, but when the man drew a small, padded stool
up next to the Cooperation Seat and sat down with the ICE in hand, she could
contain herself no longer. "You just wait a damn minute, you monster!" she
threatened idly. Turning her head, Teresa glared at the older man. Quickly, though,
she felt Scott's fingers on her chin.
"Look at me, Miss Davidson and be silent," her Handler ordered. "We're going to
continue with our little question and answer session now, and I expect for you to
pay close attention to me."
Unable to look away from Scott, Teresa didn't see the other Handler move his
shining instrument beneath her. She suddenly parted her lips with a slight gasp, and
her eyes became wide with concern when initially Teresa felt a cool pressure against
her nether entrance.
Scott watched her face closely, holding her by the chin and preventing her from
looking away. When he saw her make one prolonged blink of her emerald green
eyes, the young Handler knew that his fellow Associate was in.
All that Teresa felt at first was a mildly increased sense of pressure followed by a
tiny bit of stretching, then abruptly her anal sphincter dilated and admitted the
small spherical end of the Inter-Colonic Exciter. That sense of conspicuous
presence that accompanies the insertion of a CAP Device was not a factor when
Larry extended his magic wand. In fact, Teresa would have been shocked to learn
just how deeply she'd been penetrated by the time Scott asked his first question.
"Getting back to your menstrual information, Miss Davidson," Scott said after
clearing his throat to gain Teresa's attention. "Would you say that your customary
flow is heavy or light?" He stared brazenly at the young woman.
Teresa was quite confused and flustered by the recent goings on, and consequently
answered haltingly before thinking. "I...I guess l...light," she replied. "Well...
Medium, maybe." She felt herself flex around the thin shaft in her rear end. Due
to its extraordinary design, it was impossible for Teresa to discern the actual depth
to which the shining sphere had traveled under the expert guidance of the second
Handler who sat silently beside her.
"Good," Scott said. "Thank you, Miss Davidson. And at what age did you begin to
menstruate?"
Teresa was having a difficult time concentrating on her Handler's questions even
though Larry held the ICE absolutely still. "I.. I.." she stammered. "I.. Twelve, I
guess. No, eleven." she answered.
"And do you normally use pads, tampons or both?"
The questions came faster now. Teresa was somewhat dazed, but she replied none
the less, "B..both, sometimes."
Unwittingly, Teresa started to respond to the rather probing and personal
questions almost reflexively.
"Do you suffer from PMS?" When after a half a minute, the distracted teenager
didn't answer, Scott asked again. "Miss Davidson, do you develop PMS symptoms or
not?" He was most insistent. Knowing the girl was bewildered, Scott wanted to get
as many answers out of her as possible before she regained her composure.
Teresa shook her head as if to clear the cobwebs. "No," she answered a bit more
directly. The initial shock and apprehension of being subjected to insertion of the
ICE was starting to wear off.
"Do you ever experience vaginal discharge other than lubricating fluids resulting
from arousal?" This question garnered a look of confused exasperation.
"N..no, but..."
"Very well. Are you receiving regular GYN checkups, Miss Davidson?"
"I... yes... I... but why do you want..?"
"Yes or no will do, Miss Davidson," Scott said interrupting her. She was coming
around.
"At what age did you lose your virginity, Miss Davidson, and to whom?" Scott
watched the confusion on Teresa's face gradually turn to outrage, then to outright
rage.
The teenager sat for several moments, her mouth opening and closing in silence.
Then at last she found her voice. In a low growl, she said, "That is none of your
damn business!" On her face she wore an expression of unmitigated hostility.
The first thing Teresa felt was an almost imperceptible motion deep inside of her.
She remembered thinking that the supposedly wonderful new toy that these
horrible men possessed wasn't going to do a damn thing to her. That was just
before the pulse hit. The sensation was not unlike being kicked in the rib cage, at
once knocking the wind out of her and filling her entire body with a thudding agony.
Teresa thought she was going to black out. Then gradually, as the fog of pain that
enshrouded her lifted, Teresa recognized a familiar voice asking, "At what age did
you lose your virginity, Miss Davidson and to whom?"
Unable to form coherent thoughts, Teresa sat stunned and shaking for several
seconds before the question was put to her again.
"Pay attention, Miss Davidson. Look at me and answer the question, please. Who
did you lose your virginity to, and how old were you at the time?"
All of Scott's questions were, of course, premeditated and designed expressly to
erode the subject's sense of personal space and privacy. The shock value alone
derived from the invasive interrogation was enough to keep the otherwise rather
well composed young woman off balance and befuddled.
At a nod from the young Handler, Larry obligingly thumbed the controls of the ICE.
Inside the dark, moist reaches of Teresa's excretory system, the highly advanced
polymer wand flexed. Bowing forward, the shrining exciter sphere pressed
downward against the top of the teenager's uterus which is located directly above
her urinary bladder.
Taking Teresa by her chin, Scott forced her to gaze directly into his eyes. He
intentionally treated her like an errant child as he repeated his question in a most
patronizing tone of voice. "How old were you when you first had intercourse, Miss
Davidson? It's a simple question, really."
Teresa was gradually recovering from the deep routed blow to her person. The
resulting waves of nausea slowly subsided, and she regained a small degree of
composure. With that composure came a greater comprehension of her situation.
With that comprehension, Teresa's inherent self-righteous indignation returned in
spades.
"How dare he ask such a question!" her irate thoughts screamed. "Why he's
nothing more than a demented child! These filthy, cretinous thugs won't get
anything more out of me!" she vowed silently.
Teresa couldn't have been more wrong. Scott, having seen these exact same signs
of wilfulness in other Guests Teresa's age, or perhaps slightly younger, was well
prepared for such an eventuality. Nodding again to his assistant, Scott watched the
pretty girl's facial expressions begin to change. First came the raised eyebrows
and the look of surprise. Then as the specialized sound waves emitted by the
shining exciter sphere gradually increased, and the muscles responsible for bladder
control began to fibrillate, Teresa's face reflected growing concern. It was when
the warm urine began to trickle between her buttocks, that the stubborn teenager
really began to exhibit those unmistakable signs of alarm.
"Wait... Nnnno...," she whined, seeing Scott's knowing smirk, but try as she might,
she could do nothing to stem the rapidly increasing flow.
Reaching between Teresa's legs, her Handler casually cupped her full vulva in his
hand. "This would go much quicker and easier if you would cooperate, Miss
Davidson," Scott explained patiently as he allowed his hand to fill with the warm and
pungent liquid. "I ask only that you answer my questions," the young Handler
continued. Then to Teresa's utter disgust and dismay, he raised his cupped hand
from between her thighs and poured its brimming warm contents onto her belly.
Teresa shuddered as the cooling urine flowed across her tummy, filling her navel,
then trickling downward on either side of her slim waist. It had been several hours
since Teresa'd last visited the bathroom, so her urine continued to flow, making a
spattering sound on the tile floor.
"We can make this examination very unpleasant for you, little lady," Larry said from
his seat beside Teresa's right shoulder. To drive home his point, the older man
twisted the handle of the ICE device, causing Teresa to groan in response when the
elongated probe shifted position deep in her bowel. It felt like the thing was
pushing against the back side of her belly button. It was a most invasive and
uncomfortable sensation indeed.
"How old were you, Miss Davidson, when you took your first lover?" Scott asked
calmly. After returning his hand to Teresa's most private flesh, he slowly rubbed
her, spreading her urine over her soft skin until she was through.
Teresa was mortified. This was by far the most degrading thing these monstrous
men had done to her thus far, and as a result, she began to re-think her strategy of
outright defiance.
A moment of silence...
"I was fourteen and a half," the headstrong teenager murmured almost inaudibly.
"I beg your pardon," Scott responded instantly. He wanted his willful charge to
repeat her confession.
"I said, I was almost fifteen," Teresa replied in a miffed tone of voice.
"That's a bit early, isn't it, young lady?" Larry chimed in.
Teresa reddened noticeably but said nothing.
"And with whom did you have intercourse your first time, Miss Davidson?" Scott
immediately inquired, wishing to capitalize on Teresa's momentary affability.
"Oh, God!" she thought miserably. Teresa had sincerely hoped that this one
particular secret would go with her to her grave, but this was not to be.
"I... It... It was," Teresa began. Her expression of nervous embarrassment was
unmistakable.
"Go on, young lady," Larry prompted. He moved the ICE ever so slightly in Teresa's
rear end as encouragement. Scott immediately shot the older man a glance that, in
no uncertain terms said, "I'll thank you not to intervene unless asked." Larry
nodded his understanding with a sheepish grin.
"Answer the question, Miss Davidson," Scott ordered.
With a pained and crushed look upon her pretty face, Teresa replied at last. "It
was my boyfriend's dad."
"That explains her predilection for older men," Scott surmised. "And what led up to
this relationship, Miss Davidson?" the young Handler asked, knowing full well this
was a topic that the girl would prefer not to discuss. After a prolonged period of
strained silence, Teresa began to tell her tale. What she would divulge to the two
complete strangers was the truth about a part of her life of which she was the
least proud. It was, until this moment, Teresa Davidson's darkest and most
carefully guarded secret.
Continued...
The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a graphically sexual nature and may involve
non-consensual sexual acts between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or dead is
purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only. If you are under the legal age of consent in
your local jurisdiction, or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
Authors Note: As a rule I prefer not to post multi-part stories, but this one is
getting so very long that unfortunately, I must.
T.Y.T.C. 4.7 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
Teresa, in an ongoing effort to be the most talked about girl in school, figured that
by dating Jeff Morrow, the most popular boy in school, everyone would notice her.
The fact that Jeff was nearly seventeen and a junior, Teresa felt would certainly
draw attention to herself. That assumption proved to be quite accurate.
The two teenagers had been dating for several weeks when one afternoon, Jeff
invited Teresa over to his house after school. It was the first time that she'd been
to Jeff's, and to put it mildly, she was shocked. The place was more of a hovel than
a home, and as it turned out, Jeff's father, Bill Morrow was not in much better
shape than his dilapidated dwelling. The bullish man was a raging alcoholic and a
known trouble maker. The very first time that Teresa met him in fact, he made her
feel very uncomfortable.
"What's the matter with your Dad?" she asked Jeff.
"What do you mean?" her boyfriend replied a bit defensively.
"I mean, he's always staring at me." the pretty teen said. "He creeps me out!"
"Oh, don't worry about my old man. He's harmless enough."
"Well, I wish he'd quit looking at me like that."
"Like what?" Jeff asked.
"You know, kinda..." She let her sentence dangle. Then when her boyfriend merely
gave her a blank look, Teresa thought to herself, "Boys are so clueless." But to
Jeff she said, "Oh, never mind," dismissing him.
It wasn't until her third or fourth visit that the real troubles started. Jeff had
gotten hold of some marijuana somewhere, and although it seemed out of character
for the athletic young man, he asked Teresa if she'd like to try some. The two
young people were in Jeff's room and had just lit up a joint when unexpectedly
Jeff's father opened the door and stumbled into the room. The man was rather
inebriated as usual and gave no indication at the time that he suspected anything
was amiss. He simply muttered something unintelligible then backed out of the
bedroom, leaving the two startled young people staring at each other in shocked
disbelief.
Bill Morrow might have been a drunk, but he was not a stupid man, and he knew a
good thing when he saw it. So he did a little home work, and soon discovered that
Miss Teresa Davidson was trying very hard to make the initial cut for the school's
renowned cheer leading squad. He rightly presumed that drug use was not the kind
of thing an aspiring young cheerleader would want on her r‚sum‚, so all Bill needed
now was some hard evidence and perhaps he could have a little fun. Weeks ago he'd
hidden a tiny web cam purchased at Circuit City in his son's bedroom on the off
chance he might come up with something interesting. He'd spun his web then sat
back and waited for the fly to light.
Teresa sat open mouthed and speechless for several minutes as she stared at the
screen of her desk top computer. Her heart pounded in her chest like a hammer.
The e-mail message had arrived marked "Priority Urgent", and it was from
morrow@earthlink.com. Naturally she'd thought it was from Jeff, and had opened
the attached .jpeg file right away. When she first looked at the picture of herself
and Jeff sharing the marijuana cigarette, Teresa wondered why he would send her
such a thing. Then it dawned on her that she didn't remember her boyfriend taking
a picture. It was the body of the e-mail that gave Teresa cause for alarm, though,
and with it, that cold, panicky feeling that things were about to get very ugly
indeed. The message said simply, "Meet me at my house Thursday afternoon. Come
alone." It was signed, "Bill Morrow".
School let out at three o'clock, and the Morrow residence was only two blocks away.
Even though Teresa intuitively knew that something about this meeting was not
quite as it should be, she still had not put two and two together by the time she
stood on the front porch preparing to knock upon the weathered front door of
Jeff's father's house. On the way there, the young teenager wondered why Mr.
Morrow would choose a day to lecture the two of them when his son had football
practice after school. "Maybe he wants to talk to me alone before Jeff gets
home," she rationalized. Her boyfriend had told her about his dad's temper, and
Teresa was very apprehensive. "I hope he's not going to be too hard on Jeff.
Maybe I can talk him into being more lenient," she thought as she knocked on the
surface of peeling paint.
"So you're the little lady who's gotten my boy mixed up with drugs," Bill Morrow
growled, standing over the frightened and fidgeting fourteen year old girl seated on
his ragged livingroom sofa.
"N... no, sir, M... Mr. M... Morrow," Teresa stammered. She was completely
flustered. On one hand, she didn't want to shoulder the misplaced blame for the
incident, while on the other, she feared what the man might do to his son were he to
discover that Jeff was the one who'd provided the controlled substance.
"Do you know what'll happen to Jeffery if his coach finds out about this?" Bill
Morrow asked angrily. He pitched a printout of yet another image of Teresa and his
son smoking pot onto the dirty surface of the coffee table in front of the sofa.
"I'll tell you what'll happen," the older man continued. "He'll be benched for the
rest of the season, maybe even longer. That's what'll happen! Do you want to be
the one to get Jeff benched, young lady?"
"N... No, sir, but..."
"And what about you? Don't you have plans to become a cheerleader soon?" He
paused. "I don't think a drug user is the image they're looking for. Do you?" He
raised his heavy eyebrows and stared hard at the troubled teen.
"N... No, sir," Teresa stammered. "But I didn't... It wasn't just me... I... I... Ohhh,"
she whined in frustration and despair. Then like lightning, Teresa turned on that
innocent, "cute girl" look that all young women seem to master at a surprisingly
early age. "You haven't told anybody have you, sir?"
Bill Morrow allowed quite a bit of time to pass before answering. "No, not yet, but
as much as I hate to jeopardize my boy's career, I have to be a responsible parent.
Unless you can give me a very good reason why I shouldn't, I'm going to have to
inform the school system about this incident."
A wave of terror washed over Teresa. She knew she had to come up with a way to
convince Jeff's dad not to turn them in and fast. A flurry of possible responses
besieged her thoughts, but the one that eventually won out was Teresa's recent
and thrilling discovery that she had a distinct power over members of the opposite
sex. With just the right smile and just the right body language she found she could
get boys and more recently, grown men, to do almost anything she asked them to
do. Abruptly Teresa changed her facial expression to one she'd been practicing in
front of her bathroom mirror for weeks now.
"Please don't turn us in, Mr. Morrow." Now, instead of a simple plea, the young lady
seemed to be hinting at some sort of bargain.
Bill Morrow was expecting just such a turn of events, this not being his first
attempt at sexual extortion. This one wasn't the first little sweetheart his son had
brought home, nor would she be the first he'd had a little fun with. His boy, of
course, new nothing of his former escapades, and if Bill Morrow had anything to do
with it, he wouldn't find out about his plans for this little lady either. "And my, my,
she is a cutie," Bill mused.
"Any particular reason why I shouldn't?" he asked, toying with the delectable
teenager. When she gave him a slightly confused look, indicating that she was
somewhat new at this game, Bill pressed her further. "What'll you give me in return
for my silence, young lady?"
"Well, I..." Teresa began. She noticed an unusual and slightly uncomfortable
stirring low down in her belly. Even though her conscious mind was a bit befuddled,
subconsciously and instinctively Teresa's "femaleness" knew exactly what it was
that the older man was proposing, and Teresa was in no way prepared for such a
trade. Usually her new found powers of persuasion allowed her to get that which
she desired without compensation. This time, however, Teresa began to wonder who
was bribing whom. She glanced hastily around the messy living room.
"I... I'll clean your house for you," she offered quickly. When, after a moment, her
boyfriend's dad didn't respond, Teresa raised the anti. "What about for a month?"
she asked. "I'll be your maid for a whole month." The man remained silent. Teresa
was miffed. "What's his problem? It's a fair trade. Jeez... I don't want to clean
up this pig sty!" she thought. Still Jeff's father sat in silence. It was maddening
as hell. "Well, how about it?" Teresa asked impatiently when she could endure his
silence no longer.
"How about what, young lady?" Bill Morrow asked with a wry smile.
"Haven't you been listening?" Teresa was getting exasperated now. "I asked you
what about me cleaning up this mess!" She gestured at the disheveled surroundings.
Without a word Bill Morrow stepped closer to the beat up sofa and its luscious
occupant. He held out his hand, saying flatly, "Take my hand and stand up, young
lady." Reluctantly Teresa did as she was told. Then once he'd pulled the pretty
teen to her feet, Bill sprung his trap. Catching Teresa completely by surprise, the
older man said, "How about if you take off that little pull-over of yours, and let me
have a look at your titties." He released Teresa's hand and took a step back.
It was as though he'd spoken in a foreign language. "What did you say?" Teresa
asked, hoping against hope that he hadn't said what she imagined.
"I said, my pretty little miss, that I want you to take your T-shirt off for me. How
much clearer do I need to be?" he added sarcastically.
Teresa was speechless. Her jaw hung slack as she stared in utter astonishment at
her boyfriend's father.
"But..." she began.
"No 'buts'," Bill snapped, interrupting her. "Just do like I tell you, and no one will
get into any trouble. Now hurry up, girl. You don't want my boy to come home and
find us together, do you?"
"Well, no, I..."
"Then quit your complaining and get that shirt off."
"But Mr. Morrow, you're Jeff's dad," the distraught girl needlessly reminded the
older man.
"Don't you think I know that, sweetheart," Bill chuckled. "I'm doing my fatherly
duty here. I'm checking you out for my boy." He grinned wickedly. "I'll only settle
for the very best for my Jeffery, you know." He paused and waited. When after
several very uncomfortable seconds had passed, and the pretty young teenager
remained frozen in shock, Bill took a step toward her. "I'll be happy to help you, if
you like, sweetheart," he offered.
"N..no, thank you. I can do it by myself," Teresa responded, hugging herself
nervously the way young girls do when they're afraid. She shrank away from the
older man and nearly fell backward onto the old sofa in the process. She had the
look of a trapped rabbit about her.
"Go on, then," Bill coaxed impatiently. "We haven't got all day!"
"Ohhh..." Teresa whimpered pitifully as she tugged tentatively at the tail of her
shirt which was tucked snugly into her designer jeans. She guessed what Jeff's
father intended to do, and although she'd never done anything of the kind before,
Teresa knew that she had to protect her boyfriend's football career, not to mention
her own aspirations. There was no way out. Teresa took a deep breath, then
wiggling enticingly, she pealed the tight T-shirt off over her head. Shaking her
head, Teresa flung her dark tresses back over her shoulder then stood clutching
her shirt in both hands, in an attempt to cover her nakedness. Lately Teresa was in
the habit of not wearing a brassiere. At fourteen, her breasts had not yet matured
to their full size and weight, and besides, she liked the way the boys looked at her
when her nipples caused the soft cotton of her blouses to acquire those two
pronounced points. At the moment, however, she was distinctly uncomfortable
under the appraising gaze of her boyfriend's father. He moved closer.
Without a word, Bill Morrow tugged the T-shirt free of
Teresa's hesitant grasp. Immediately the young teen raised
her hands to cover herself, averted her gaze and whimpered
softly. "Hush now," Bill murmured as he placed two fingers
beneath Teresa's chin and raised her face up to his. Then he
took her slim wrists in his powerful hands and with a gentle yet
irresistible force, the older man pulled Teresa's arms away,
exposing her small but shapely breasts. Smiling at her
distressed expression, Bill Morrow released the girl's wrists
and slid his big hands up to her elbows. Then, forcing her arms
to her sides, he whispered, "You're a lovely young lady, my dear.
My son is a lucky boy."
"But...." Teresa managed before the man cut her off.
"Hush now," he said insistently. "You just be still, little lady. Old Bill's not gonna
hurt you. Don't you worry. You be nice, and I'll be nice, OK?" he murmured as he
moved one rough hand slowly up Teresa's right arm, over the soft skin of her
shoulder then behind her slim neck. His fingers entwined in her warm and fragrant
hair. Then while gazing into her startled green eyes, he pulled Teresa toward him.
Just as his lips were about to touch her's, the teenager turned her head. "No,
please," she pleaded.
"What's wrong, darlin'? All I want is a little kiss."
"But... I..." Teresa stammered still looking away. "I just can't," she whined.
Bill Morrow waited for several moments while he gazed down at the beautiful young
girl in his hands. Her nipples were already erect, he noted. She was excited. Then
in an authoritative tone of voice, the older man said, "And why not, young lady.
You're certainly old enough."
In spite of her predicament, Teresa found that she was somewhat embarrassed by
the fact that at almost fifteen years of age, she had not yet allowed a boy to touch
her in any sort of a meaningful way. Oh, sure, she'd made out with a few guys here
and there. She'd even allowed Jeff to fondle her breasts on one occasion, through
her clothing, naturally. But not once had Teresa removed any part of her clothing
for a member of the opposite sex. Until now, that is. And
ironic as it might seem, Teresa now found herself excited in a
manner that she'd not had a lot of experience with. She was
one confused young lady. The fact that she stood partially
clothed in the hands of the father of her boyfriend served
only to complicate the flood of emotions and thoughts that
crowed to the forefront of her mind. She was of course
very afraid, but of what? Getting caught? Teresa stared
down at the floor and shivered.
Sensing that the time was ripe to proceed, Bill Morrow pressed on with the
seduction. "Come over here, young lady," he said. Then placing a burly arm around
her narrow shoulders, he guided the girl as he moved toward a big over-stuffed
chair. She didn't resist. Leaving her standing, Bill took a seat. "OK, now the jeans,"
he said flatly.
Teresa looked up at him, appalled. She immediately began to squirm self-consciously
when she felt his eyes upon her. "Mr. Morrow, I... I mean...," she whined with a
pained expression on her lovely face.
"What is it now, Teresa? You don't mind if I call you Teresa, do you?"
"No, I..., but..." His constant questions were making it very hard for her to think
clearly.
"But, what, young lady?" Bill Morrow pressed in an exasperated tone of voice.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and studied her running shoes.
"I... I mean..." Teresa glanced up at the older man tentatively then back down
quickly when she saw that he was still staring at her intently. After a long pause,
she spoke so softly that Bill could barely hear her, "What are you gonna do?"
Bill Morrow knew full well that Teresa had a pretty good idea what he had in mind
for her. She was simply stalling, although there had been a distinctly curious lilt to
her question. "Oh, I think you know, my dear. A lovely girl of your age... I'm sure
you know." Unwittingly, Bill had touched a nerve, and he got an angry little look for
it. "Hmmm," Bill thought to himself as he studied the pretty teenager. "That's an
odd reaction. I wonder..." Then in a very stern tone of voice he said to Teresa,
"Quit your stalling, young lady and get those pants off. Shoes too. Now move it.
You wouldn't want Jeff to come home and find you like this, would you?"
His commanding tone startled Teresa, and before she knew it, she reacted. Her
small hands practically flew to the top button of her designer jeans. Then, suddenly
she froze. She looked meekly up at her boyfriend's dad, pleading with her eyes.
Bill would have none of it. "Alright, that does it," he said angrily. I'm going to count
to three and those pants of yours had better be off, or I'm going to stand up and
peel you like a grape, young lady! Do I make myself clear?"
Teresa was speechless.
"One..." the older man counted.
"W... wait," Teresa responded breathlessly.
"Two..." He paused, glaring up at the pretty young girl from his seat.
"Ohhhh...." she moaned, as her little hands went to work, furiously unfastening the
recalcitrant top button of her tight jeans. She stared down at her boyfriend's
father in dismay, looking desperately for any signs of compassion. There were none
to be found. Teresa unzipped her zipper. The older man in the chair sat perfectly
still, waiting expectantly for several moments. Then with an audible sign, he began
to struggle to his feet.
"Three..." Bill said with an exasperated exhale of breath. He grunted from his
exertion as he stood up in front of the girl.
Teresa's expression turned to one of utter terror. "N... no w... wait. Please," she
gasped. "Look, I'm almost through, see?" she offered breathlessly as she wrestled
with the clinging jeans while simultaneously trying to kick off her running shoes. It
was comical to behold, and Bill had all he could do to keep from laughing, when the
pretty teen came very close to falling to the floor in a heap of tangled denim. At
last, Teresa stood before the forty-seven year old father of her current "love
interest", dressed in nothing but her athletic socks and a pair of rather brief pale,
blue panties.
With a distinct air of tolerance, Bill slowly lowered himself back into his old chair.
"That's better," he said as he gazed approvingly up at the beautiful girl before him.
She was truly magnificent. He allowed his eyes to stroke every amazing curve,
every enticing swelling and crevasse. Bill knew that the girl was very frightened,
but he couldn't help but notice the amount of color that had crept into the flawless
pale skin of the teen's shoulders and neck. "She's excited," he thought to himself.
Teresa hadn't had time to think after nearly making an utter fool of herself by
stumbling over her damn pants and falling down at the man's feet. When at last she
did manage to fight her way out of her Jordache jeans, it took her a moment to
regain her composure. It was only then that the full realization that she was
presently standing in her underwear in front of an older man whom she'd only met
thirty minutes ago fell upon her. No one had ever seen her like this other than her
mother. A million thoughts raced through her head. "What's going to happen next?
Is he gonna hurt me? What if Jeff comes home? What if her best friend Karen
finds out?" Teresa glanced up at the Jeff's dad. Suddenly she felt like a deer
trapped in the headlights of an oncoming truck. For several seconds she found she
was unable to tear her eyes away from his, and way he looked at her gave her a
really funny feeling in her tummy. She felt her heart speed up noticeably.
Suddenly even more acutely aware of her nakedness, Teresa pressed her knees
together and hugged herself. She felt the blood rush to her face.
"Come over here, young lady," Bill Morrow ordered. He sat forward in his seat.
"Wha... What're you gonna do?" Teresa whimpered nervously.
"Don't you worry about that," Bill replied. "Just you do like I tell you, and we'll get
along just fine. Now come stand in front of me," he said, pointing to the dirty
carpet in front of his favorite chair. "Then turn around and face the sofa." When
the young girl hesitated, Bill added impatiently, "Now don't make me phone your
school superintendent. You don't want me to go there, sweetheart. I promise you,"
he threatened.
"But, Mr. Morrow," Teresa whined as she took a step toward him. It was a small
step, but it was enough for the man to reach out with his big paws and grab her by
the hips. "W... wait!" she gasped.
"Hush up!" Bill spat as he pulled the girl toward himself then spun her around
quickly. Teresa was helpless to resist, and again she almost fell when he turned her
to face the old couch. "Let's get these down now," Bill Morrow muttered under his
breath as he hooked his thumbs under the thin elastic waist band of Teresa's satin
panties and deftly stripped them down to her ankles in one fluid motion.
Teresa was so startled, she was speechless. First she stared foolishly down at her
panties which lay atop her petite bare feet. Then she turned and peered quizzically
over her left shoulder at the man who sat behind her. "My, oh my!" Bill said
appreciatively. He did not return Teresa's gaze at the moment, but rather he
concerned himself primarily with the remarkable spectacle of the two milky white
orbs of firm, flawless, female flesh just inches from his face. He returned his
hands to Teresa's hips and held her in place. Her smooth skin was wondrously warm
beneath his calloused touch. At last he looked up at her and said, "You're in
excellent shape. You get a lot of exercise, don't you, sweetheart?"
Teresa was completely befuddled by this point. Current events had moved way too
fast for her, given her already agitated state of mind. All she could manage to do
was to nod her head dumbly. "Uh, huh," she answered a bit breathlessly.
Bill Morrow smiled up at the pretty brunette, then as a distraction, he gave a little
tug on her left hip, throwing her momentarily off balance. At the same time, he
dropped his right hand from her hip. It all happened quite suddenly and without
warning. As Teresa stepped back with her left foot in order regain her balance and
to keep from falling into his lap, Bill moved his right hand to the inside of her left
knee. Teresa just happened to be staring down at him with a questioning look on her
face, so Bill was treated to a lovely medley of facial expressions ranging from
surprise, to concern, to curiosity, to alarm, then comprehension when with an
obviously practiced move, Bill Morrow swept his hand quickly up the inside of
Teresa's thigh. He heard the rapid inhale of breath, and felt her try to pull away
from him, but he maintained a firm hold on her left hip. Failing her first attempt to
escape his marauding right hand, Teresa instinctively raised up on her tip toes as
the blade of Bill Morrow's calloused hand pressed against her, touching her where
no one had ever touched her before.
"N...uhhh! Mr. Morrow!" Teresa moaned. Reflexively she clamped her legs together
as her boyfriend's dad began to squeeze and kneed the firm flesh of her inner
thigh. "Stttppppp....." she said with a hissing gasp between tightly clenched teeth.
"Easy now, darlin'," the older man said, ignoring her obvious distress. "Just relax,"
he coached as once more he tugged Teresa off balance. When she stepped back
again, Bill started to fondle the satiny smooth skin where her thigh muscle met her
labia majora. He felt her tremble as she fought to regain her balance and to close
her legs together. "Easy now, Teresa, sweetheart," he coached. "That's right.
That's my girl," he murmured softly as his right hand moved slowly in and out
between the young teenager's legs. Bill reveled in that marvelous feeling of
moisture and warmth present between the legs of all young ladies. The blade of his
hand pressed upward against resilient flesh covered with soft curls, causing her to
shudder all over. Although from time to time she whimpered or pleaded
breathlessly for him to stop, Bill continued to rub the pretty teenager for several
minutes. When at one point Teresa looked back at him, Bill cooed, "My little girl
likes that. Doesn't she?" There was no denying that moment of hesitation before
she shook her head, "No". "Now, now," Bill said patronizingly. "Be nice, little lady.
You and I are going to get to know each other real well here in a minute." Upon
hearing this, her entire body abruptly stiffened. "Easy, Teresa," Bill murmured.
"Uncle Bill's gonna be real gentle. Don't you worry," but her expression of alarm was
unmistakable. As Bill continued his massage, there was little doubt in his mind that
the young lady was inexperienced. In fact, without checking her manually, Bill
Morrow strongly suspected, based upon her reactions to his attentions thus far,
that his son's pretty little girlfriend was still a virgin.
As he slowly removed his hand from between Teresa's thighs, Bill pressed upward
carefully with his middle finger, allowing it to trail discretely between the ample
flesh of the girl's labia majora, though not enough to spook her. What he received
for his efforts was a very pleasant surprise.
"You're a lovely young woman, Teresa," Bill said as he
placed both hands on the girl's hips and turned her around
to face him. "Very lovely," he repeated a bit hoarsely when
he first laid eyes upon her womanhood.
Teresa, though of slim build, was wonderfully plump behind
her plush covering of soft, tight, dark curls. With a wide
pubic arch and prominent vulva Teresa was as lovely an
example of fresh, young womanhood as any man could
imagine, and Bill impatient to experience her. Also, time
was beginning to become a factor. Bill wanted to take his time with the young
beauty, and his son, Jeff, would be home from football practice in a little over an
hour. He intended to spend many splendid hours with Teresa and didn't want her
boyfriend to become jealous.
Tearing his eyes away from the juncture of her thighs, he gazed up at Teresa's
beautiful face. "Her eyes are like emeralds," Bill noted. She was blushing hotly
after watching him inspect her moments ago, and returned his gaze with what
appeared to be nervous anticipation. She seemed to be ever so slightly less self-
conscious about her nudity and ever so slightly more resigned to the situation at
hand. Both were very welcomed signs, and as a result, Bill decided to proceed with
the seduction a bit more hastily.
"You liked it when I touched you, didn't you, Teresa?" he asked suggestively. She
immediately frowned and started to shake her head, but Bill interrupted her. "Tell
the truth, now, sweetheart," he coaxed with a shrewd little smile. "If you didn't
enjoy it some, then how come you're so wet?" he asked, holding up his right hand for
Teresa to see. Her big green eyes got even bigger when she saw the undeniable
evidence. As her boyfriend's dad rubbed his thumb and fingers together slowly,
Teresa could plainly see that they were covered with a clear, silken fluid. Teresa
stared at the man's fingers with her mouth ajar. She knew that she must be beet
red, because her skin felt all hot and tingly. In addition to the shock of recognition,
the young teen felt deeply betrayed; betrayed by her own body.
Soon after Teresa reached puberty a little over three years ago, she quickly
discovered that with very little provocation, she would become embarrassingly damp
"down there". The first time she'd looked at a "dirty magazine", with a group of her
girl friends, Teresa remembered having to rush home to change her panties. They
were soaking wet. Her unusually active lubrication system was one reason why she'd
been so reluctant to allow boys to get too close. She was terrified of sending all
the wrong signals.
But were they the wrong signals? Bill Morrow certainly didn't think so.
"Tell me, Teresa," he said to the distracted girl. "Have you been with a man
before?"
His question was so unexpected that Teresa wasn't certain she'd heard him
correctly. "Huh? What did you say?" she asked lamely after a second or two. She
stared down at the older man.
Bill chuckled as he began once again to struggle to his feet. Teresa backed away
from him apprehensively a step or two, but he quickly took her by her bare
shoulders and held her. Then staring into her deep green eyes, Bill Morrow
pronounced in a very decisive tone of voice "I think it's time for you to grow up,
young lady." As he spoke, he dropped his hands from Teresa's shoulders and
started to unfasten his trousers. "I can't have my boy going out with a child," he
said in all seriousness. Bill's baggy pants fell to his ankles with a "clunk" as his
pocket change and Zippo lighter hit the floor.
Teresa looked down at his feet and the wad of his trousers around his stocky
ankles, then back up at his face. "But..." she began, her face of mask of confusion
and worry.
"What would his friends think if they knew that he was going out with a prude?" Bill
mumbled on, ignoring her attempted protest. "What would your friends think?" His
questions served very well to distract the girl while he prepared. "Turn around," he
ordered at last. Teresa appeared to have reached sensory overload. Too much had
happened in too short a period of time. She stood rooted in place. "I said, turn
around, young lady," Bill repeated to the stunned teenager. He took her by the
shoulders and got her moving in the desired direction. Once she was facing away
from him, Bill dropped his boxer shorts, then placed his hands on either side of
Teresa's slim waist and pulled her slowly backward as he again sat down in his chair.
Stumbling slightly, Teresa stepped back until the backs of her legs came in contact
with Bill's hairy knees. As if coming out of a dream, the young girl suddenly said,
"Wait, please. I..." She looked around and down beseechingly at the older man
seated behind her.
"Hush now!" Bill admonished her. "There'll be no more waiting. What do you think
Jeff would do it he were to walk in right now and find you like this?" he asked the
distraught teenager.
"But...."
Ignoring Teresa's protests, Bill said flatly, "I want you to step back one more time.
Straddle my knees with your legs outside of mine, and no more 'buts'!" he added for
effect. He pulled her backward by her hips again. Teresa had no choice but to step
to either side of the man's hairy legs. It was either that or flop down into his lap.
Even in her befuddled state of mind, Teresa sensed that her time was at hand.
"Good, that's good," she heard the man say as if from a great distance. She was
getting a little shocky. "Now Teresa," he said calmly. "I want you to sit down
slowly. Do you understand me?" She looked back at him blankly. "Just have a
seat," he prompted. He placed his left hand on her hip to guide her. With his right,
he prepared her seat. When she hesitated, Bill pulled gently with his left hand.
Losing her balance momentarily, Teresa teetered above him before dropping her
hands to her knees and bending forward at the waist for equilibrium. From his
vantage point behind her, Bill was treated to a mouth-watering rear view of her
plump womanhood and its dark covering between her slim white thighs. Soon she
would be his.
Then once more, Teresa baulked. Looking back at him from around her swelling hips,
the pretty teenager said in a troubled voice, "But I've never done this before?" Her
expression could melt your heart, so innocent and uncertain. Her heart was beating
a mile a minute. Teresa was extremely excited in spite of her misgivings; more so
than she knew.
Bill smiled as warmly as he knew how and replied, "I know, sweetheart. That's why
I'm here; to teach you. Now just sit back a little bit farther." He tugged on her hip
again with his left had.
"Huh.. Ohhh!" Teresa cried when she felt the first hot caress of his maleness
against her untouched flesh. She jerked upward with a start.
"What's wrong, Teresa?" Bill asked patiently. In his right fist he held his swollen
penis. He couldn't remember ever being this hard. Bill wasn't huge by any means,
but he knew he had enough to keep this little lady occupied. However, if they didn't
get on with it very soon, Bill was afraid he'd unload right on her pretty little ass.
"Which wouldn't be all bad," he thought wistfully.
"Is it gonna hurt?" the young teenager whimpered, asking the age old question. She,
like most girls her age, had heard lots of stories; tales of pain and bleeding.
In an effort to appease her fears and to proceed with all possible dispatch, Bill lied.
"I told you, sweetheart," he murmured soothingly. "Your Uncle Bill wouldn't dream
of hurting you. No more questions now. Time's a wasting."
"But I don't know what to do," she said quite frankly.
"Just have a seat, Teresa, darlin'. Let Uncle Bill help you." He gave her an
affectionate little squeeze on her hip. "You won't feel a thing, and before you know
it, it'll all be over. You'll see. I promise."
Teresa's expression suggested that she didn't completely believe him, but after a
brief pause, she moved her shapely rear end downward. Bill held himself tightly in
his fist and tried not to ejaculate early. It was a real challenge. This time all Bill
heard out of Teresa was a soft gasp when the head of his penis touched her. With
his hand still on her left hip, Bill prevented the young girl from aborting her
progress a second time as he pulled her gently back and down. He gritted his teeth
as he moved the head of his penis back and forth ever so slightly in an effort to
center himself beneath his target. "God damn, she's a hot little girl!" Bill thought to
himself.
"W... wha?" Teresa started when she felt him move against her.
"Be still, Teresa," Bill huffed breathlessly. "You're almost there, just a little
farther. Just have a seat, sweetheart. Sit back in Uncle Bill's lap," he coaxed as he
bent his head to the side and gazed between the globes of the her perfect
buttocks. Bill could see that the head of his penis was already nestled in a soft bed
of fur and flesh. He also noticed that the first inch of his shaft below the head
glistened with her lubricating vaginal mucous. He was ready. She was ready. So,
without another word, Bill gave the lovely young girl a swift tug, toppling her off
balance.
At first there was only stunned silence. In fact, Teresa found herself fully seated
in the man's lap before she could even think to react. Bill, on the other hand, sat
stiffly in his chair, biting his lower lip and trying not to cum yet. The saber of his
manhood lay buried to the hilt in the most immaculate scabbard he could ever have
imagined.
The defloration of his son's fourteen year old girlfriend had been virtually
effortless; at least for Bill. Her hymen had resisted for only a fraction of a second
before his penis burst it asunder. Then in spite of her snugness, and thanks to her
profuse lubrication, Teresa slid down Bill like a fireman down a pole.
Several moments passed without a sound from the young teenager. Bill remained
utterly still, inhaling her fragrance and listening to the sounds of the short gulping
breaths of the warm little lady seated in his lap. Then suddenly Bill's shabby living
room was filled with the sweet music of a young girl's passage into womanhood.
"Oh, Mr. Morrowwwwwwwwww!"
Continued...
The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a graphically sexual nature and may involve
non-consensual sexual acts between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or dead is
purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only. If you are under the legal age of consent in
your local jurisdiction, or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
Authors Note: As a rule I prefer not to post multi-part stories, but this one is
getting so very long that unfortunately, I must.
T.Y.T.C. 4.8 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
Teresa's relationship with her boyfriend's dad lasted for almost two years. During
this rather extended period of time, Jeff Morrow never discovered the fact she
was having sex with his father, nor was he ever successful at getting Teresa into
his own bed. Bill Morrow, on the other hand, managed to escort young Teresa to his
bedroom on a very regular basis.
As Jeff's football career continued to prosper, so did Bill's opportunity to entertain
his son's lovely girlfriend. Twice a week at least, and at times more often, Teresa
was invited over to the Morrow residence while Jeff was hard at work at football
practice. Bill Morrow kept the young teenager thoroughly occupied on those
afternoons after school, teaching her things she'd never dreamed of, and of course,
exacting from her in return for his tutelage, carnal pleasures of unimaginable
proportions.
A few months into the relationship, Jeff's team was scheduled to leave town for
the first away game of the season. A good week before the two young people were
to say their goodbyes to each other for the weekend, Teresa received an e-mail
from morrow@earthlink.com instructing her to come up with a story to tell her
parents that would allow her to spend the entire weekend with her more mature
lover. Teresa had never given her parents reason not to trust her, so when she told
them she would be spending a couple of days camping out with her girlfriends, no
questions were asked.
It was a rough game, but when Jeff at last returned home, he wasn't sure who was
more fatigued; him or Teresa. He'd never seen her so tired. She was extremely
lethargic and unwilling to even be touched by him. It was only the beginning of
Jeff's troubles with his pretty girlfriend. It might even have been a blessing were
he to have come home unexpectedly and caught Teresa with his father, but that
was not to be. On a couple of occasions, he unwittingly came quite close, but both
times, the young girl was able to get out of the house without being discovered. For
nearly two years, Teresa's relationship with Jeff Morrow steadily withered.
Conversely, her sexual activities with Jeff's father increased dramatically. There
seemed to be no end to the man's appetite. Teresa knew that sooner or later, she
and "Uncle Bill" as he made her call him, would be discovered, and the consequences
would no doubt be totally ruinous. Between bouts beneath the sheets, all Teresa
could think about was how on Earth she could free herself from what had become
for her nothing less than sexual captivity. Her relationship with Jeff had by now
eroded to the point where it was virtually non-existent. Then, one day, quite by
chance, Teresa introduced Karen Eccles, her pretty blond girlfriend, to her unhappy
boyfriend.
Very soon thereafter, Jeff delivered the "bad news" that he wanted to break up
with Teresa. Although she pretended to be crushed, and she told him that she
understood, inside Teresa was jumping for joy. Now there was absolutely no reason
for her to frequent the Morrow residence. Finally, she'd escaped, and oddly enough,
Bill Morrow, who'd held her in his clutches for so very long, made no attempt to
either see her or talk to her. In fact, he never bothered to contact Teresa in any
way. One part of her sub-conscious mind fervently hoped that the wicked old man
was suffering horribly. "He had to be," Teresa reasoned. "As much as he seemed
to require regular sex. I hope his nasty old 'John Thomas' (That's what Bill made
her call it.) shrivels up and falls off." She hated the dirty old man for what he'd
done to her, for the years of her life that he'd ruined. And yet, another part of
Teresa, a part of her emotional makeup that she would one day become much more
familiar with, felt a certain sense of loss. At the time of her breakup with Jeff,
however, the part of her that despised Bill Morrow and all men of his age group
tended to dominate Teresa's character. For months she was filled with an
undefinable rage that she sprinkled about liberally and indiscriminately. None of
her friends knew who would be targeted next.
It did seem only natural that eventually her friend Karen Eccles would become the
object of Teresa's pent up anger, and sure enough, seeing the pretty blond on Jeff
Morrow's arm, and hearing stories about how much the two young people were in
love, began to gnaw at Teresa until at last the embittered young teen found it
necessary to insult Karen in front of a group of their peers. We all know how
vindictive teenage girls can be when scorned, and true to form, Karen Eccles fired a
broadside of her own back at Teresa. In a twinkling, the friendship evaporated.
Weeks passed where Teresa went out of her way to make disparaging comments
about her best old ex-friend, Karen. Then one day, Teresa happened to be passing
through the neighborhood of her ex-boyfriend and his perverted father. Perhaps it
was morbid curiosity. Teresa would never really know for certain, but something
caused her to detour from her intended route and drive by the Morrow house. She
slowed the car almost to a crawl as she cruised past the shabby little dwelling.
Suddenly a shiver shot up her spine. Then completely unexpectedly, Teresa felt
something she hadn't felt in months. It was that strange, unsettling feeling she
always got in her tummy just before she... Teresa shivered again.
So lost in thought was Teresa, that she almost missed it. She'd all but driven past
the Morrow house when out of the corner of her eye Teresa saw the front door
open, and who should step out but Karen Eccles. "What the?" Teresa whispered
out loud as she hit the brakes. Then she saw him, standing back a bit from the door
so that he was bathed in shadow. To any other passer by, Bill Morrow was all but
invisible, but Teresa knew it was him. The older man must have said something,
because Karen abruptly turned and looked back in the direction of the open door.
Teresa saw the wicked old man's hand wave from the shadows, then Karen turned
and walked away in the opposite direction from where Teresa had stopped.
For several minutes Teresa sat staring blankly out of the windshield while her
thoughts raced, then at last she smiled. It was a cold smile. "I hope you're happy
with your new 'boyfriend', Karen," she muttered under her breath. "It serves you
right!" Before she drove away, Teresa made a mental note to see if Karen walked a
little more bow-legged in the coming weeks.
For years afterward, the anger resulting from her relationship with Bill Morrow
manifested itself frequently in Teresa's dealings with people. In particular,
concerning her dealings with members of the opposite sex, and even more
specifically, with those members of the opposite sex who were thirty years old or
older. It's seems obvious that a portion of Teresa's rage resulted directly from the
fact that she was taken advantage of by a man old enough to be her own father,
but, as is generally the case, there's another side to the story.
For two years, Bill Morrow provided Teresa with more sexual activity than ninety
percent of the young ladies her age receive in two decades. Bill might have been an
alcoholic, but he had a very active imagination where sex was concerned. In addition
to a tremendous volume of carnal calisthenics, Bill Morrow furnished Teresa with
one hell of an education. On the few occasions where she and her girlfriends found
themselves huddled around a good "dirty magazine", no doubt pilfered from a dad or
an older brother, the girlish chatter invariably turned to comments such as, "Oh,
God! That's so gross. I'd never let a guy do that to me! Would you? No way!" It
was these times that Teresa was forced to pretend to be just as disgusted as her
friends, when in truth, she'd performed every act in the book. In her early and
middle teenage years, Teresa Davidson became a very well informed and
experienced young lady, and all thanks to Mr. Bill Morrow.
Now to the point. In keeping with what is unquestionably The Youth Training
Center's most significant founding principle which states in so many words, "that
given enough exposure to sexual stimulation, any female will eventually become a
willing partner no matter what the circumstances of her initial involvement," it can
be deduced that a part of Teresa's pent up animosity toward males results from a
very basic and simple emotional conflict.
For nearly two years, often several times a week, Mr. Morrow provided the
youngster with regular sexual excitement of good variety. In short, Teresa became
accustomed to the man's amorous attentions, and once removed, she missed them
and him. The discord within Teresa occurred from the way in which her mind
processed two conflicting sets of feelings. A part of Teresa hated Mr. Morrow and
always would for making her his sexual hostage. Another part of Teresa, one that
many will say does not exist, loved Mr. Morrow and always would for making her his
sexual hostage.
It was the second and very real part of Teresa Davidson that the professionals of
The Youth Training Center would eventually uncover and nurture. Unbeknownst to
Teresa, and thanks again to her amateur mentor, she received, in her formative
teenage years, a more thorough and productive education than most women could
ever hope to obtain. After her arrival at The Facility, Teresa's level of sexual
activity increased many times over, but unfortunately there was very little
uniformity to her early program. However, now that she was a Guest of the Center,
Teresa could look forward to a highly structured daily routine of consistent sexual
impetus applied by professionals who's entire purpose wass to help her to realize
her full potential.
Scott and Larry were definitely such professionals.
"And how many lovers have you entertained since your first, Miss Davidson?" Scott
asked, continuing with his probing line of questioning.
Having already divulged her most guarded secret, the question seemed rather
innocuous by comparison. Teresa looked up at the young man with the clip board, a
thoughtful look graced her pretty face. "Three... no four," Teresa said after a
moment.
"I see," Scott said. "And what about during your stay next door? Have you
forgotten about those gentlemen?"
Teresa's facial expression immediately clouded over when memories of the
extremely unpleasant time she'd spent at The Facility flooded her thoughts. Time
and again she was placed onto the evil mounts in the Great Hall of Horrors as
Teresa referred to it. Around her stood many of the members of her cheerleading
squad with whom she'd been abducted on that fateful day on their way to the
National Competition. Most of the girls cried miserably as the attendants attached
their feet to heavy steel bases, spreading their shapely legs to just beyond
shoulder width. Next came the knee immobilizing splints that further prevented
the girls from moving or resisting. Each day Teresa saw a few new faces when she
was brought to the Hall, and every so often a girl would disappear. No one knew
where she went. She simply vanished, and to be honest, no one really cared. It was
all any of them could do just to maintain some semblance of sanity, because each
day after Teresa and the others were restrained to the heavy round bases, the
"Animals", as the girls referred to them in private, were let in. After being formally
greeted by the megalomaniacal founder of the hideous asylum, The Clients were
encouraged to "go shopping". One after another the girls were chosen by the troll-
like men who browsed amongst the display stands and their terrified occupants.
Cries would then be heard here and there about the big room as special break away
dresses and undergarments were torn from lithe bodies. On a good day, Teresa
would only be assaulted two or three times. Other times there seemed to be an
endless line of slobbering males trying to force themselves into every orifice in her
body. There were even times when Teresa was taken by two Clients at once. What
made the existence all the more horrible was that every day, all around her, Teresa
was forced to listen to the cries and pleas of her friends and teammates as they
too were subjected to unmentionable perversions.
"And to think that this demented kid would ever dream of referring to that bunch
of pigs as 'Gentlemen'!" Teresa thought angrily. She glared at Scott with renewed
disrespect and loathing. Not for the last time, she wondered how old the Handler
actually was. He looked to be in his teenage years just like her. How someone her
own age could be so cruel and demented, defied all logic for Teresa. She had no
idea how to deal with the young man, emotionally.
"So how many do you think, Miss Davidson?" Scott asked her once more.
Teresa stared blankly at the young Handler. "Huh?" she said lamely.
"I asked you to tell me how many lovers you had while at The Facility."
After a long pause, Teresa whispered with a mixture of anger and shame, "I... I
don't know." She turned her face away from Scott.
"Well, perhaps I can help you," Scott offered in an almost friendly manner. "Let's
see," he said, consulting his clip board. "According to our records, you were a Guest
of The Facility for twenty-two days, Miss Davidson. During your time there, how
many lovers did you accommodate on any given day? Two... three, maybe?"
For a long time Teresa wouldn't answer as she grappled with her rage. She was
beginning to realize that outbursts of her infamous temper only brought her pain or
degradation.
"Well, Miss Davidson," Scott prompted.
After a moment, Larry offered, "Answer your Handler, young lady."
Teresa had all but forgotten about the second man who sat beside her on a low
stool. She'd also forgotten about the vile device which he'd inserted into her rear
end. Now, however, as the older Handler twisted the knurled grip of the Inter-
Colonic Exciter, Teresa became acutely aware of the deep invasion of her person.
At last she summoned her courage and what fortitude she had left. "Three...
Sometimes more," Teresa said softly. She still refused to look in Scott's direction.
"I beg your pardon, Miss Richardson. What did you say? And kindly look at me,
please." her Handler demanded.
"Is the guy hard of hearing?" Teresa wondered, thoroughly annoyed. She took a
deep breath and turned to face the young man at her feet. "I said, three or more
every day." Her facial expression plainly revealed the loathing she felt for her
previous hosts.
"Thank you, Miss Davidson," Scott replied casually. "So, you received three
gentlemen per day for twenty-two days," he muttered as he did the math in his
head. "That make sixty-six, less two or three for your first day of prepping and
orientation." He paused again while he figured. At last he said, "So, Miss Davidson,
for the sake of simplicity, we'll just say that you had sixty lovers while you were
with our neighbors. Does that sound about right?" He raised his eyebrows and
looked at his captive young charge.
Teresa was flabbergasted. Again, she could not begin to understand how a person
so young could have become so evil. "Did he realize what he was asking?" she
wondered. "Could he possibly know the horrors he asked about so casually?"
Teresa simply couldn't fathom how anyone could discuss mass torture and rape with
such blatant disregard for human suffering.
"Answer me, Miss Davidson," the young man commanded.
The older Handler named Larry depressed a button on his hideous device. The half
inch diameter sphere at the end of the polymer wand of the experimental I.C.E.
apparatus moved smoothly up the length of Teresa's colon, visiting regions of the
young girl's anatomy never before explored. Meanwhile, Larry pressed another
contact, causing the device to emit a low frequency hum which radiated from the
shining spherical tip located deep in Teresa's abdomen. Locked in yet another battle
of wills with Scott, Teresa was virtually unaware of the advance of the rectal
probe, however, she would have been astounded if she'd known the actual depth to
which she'd been penetrated. She was sitting in silent defiance of her Handler's
wishes when the device began to produce its special sub-audible sound waves.
Teresa's initial recognition of this new phenomenon was indicated only by a slight
flaring of her nostrils.
"Answer me, Miss Davidson," Scott repeated. "Does sixty sound like an accurate
count of the number of lovers you entertained while at The Facility?"
"And why are you sicko's so interested in how many times I've been raped?" Teresa
responded at last, with unveiled animosity.
Deep inside, the frequency of the harmonic emissions gradually increased.
Scott stared at the vindictive teenager for a moment while he considered his
response. Several moments passed while he deliberated on whether or not to honor
her with a reply. Then at last Scott decided to explain a few facts to his newest
charge.
Before he began, he received a slight nod from his associate. Scott wasn't exactly
certain what Larry had was up to, but he knew that the older man had been a part
of many such examinations in the past, and knew how to conduct himself. To a
degree, Scott resented the man taking liberties with his Guest without his
permission, but decided to let the matter slide for the time being.
"If you must know, Miss Davidson. We would like to accumulate as much
information as we can about both your recent sexual activity as well as your past
history in order for us to put together a suitable program of training and exercise.
Unlike the activities that you participated in while in the care of our neighbor, here
at TYTC, you can expect to take part in a more structured program of routine
amorous activities coupled with systematic training and education." Scott watched
the young girl's expression change as his words became more clear to her.
Deep inside, the frequency of the harmonic emissions gradually increased.
"Although you will not entertain as great a number of lovers on a daily basis, Miss
Davidson," Scott continued in a conversational tone of voice. "I believe you will find
that those men and women with whom you find yourself will provide you with
assignments far more comprehensive than those to which you have become
accustomed. In short, Miss Davidson, you are going to discover a great deal about
yourself, your sexuality as well as your proper station in an improved society."
Teresa's noticed that her mouth was hanging open in utter astonishment at what the
wicked young man was saying to her. She was about to comment when she heard a
soft beeping sound coming from below her seat. Just seconds after hearing the
sound Teresa became aware of an odd sensation spreading through her body. The
strange feeling seemed to be centered just behind her belly button, yet its actual
epicenter was difficult for her to place. It was indeed an unusual sensation, totally
unfamiliar, yet somehow very familiar. Her facial expressions portrayed the
momentary confusion she experienced as a growing sense of warmth gradually
extended down the insides of her thighs. Teresa tried to ignore it and concentrate.
From his stool beside the Cooperation Seat, Larry glanced up at his younger
counterpart and said with a proud smile, "The ICE has locked onto her HRV. It'll
store the value in memory until we upload it into the protocol application," he
explained. Scott had a pretty good idea what the older handler was talking about,
but young Teresa was clueless. All she knew was that she was beginning to perspire
a bit.
H.R.V. stands for Harmonic Resonance Value. Once again, the dedicated men and
women of the TYTC Science and Technology Department have achieved a
breakthrough of staggering proportions. A detailed explanation of the theory
behind this astounding discovery falls outside of the scope of this writing. Suffice
it to say, what they have uncovered is the key that will unlock the sexuality of any
female regardless of her age or experience. In short, our scientists have
determined that for each and every female there exists a specific frequency in the
sub-audible area of the spectrum which when radiated from within by a suitable
device, will cause, for lack of a better term, an electrical linking of bodily tissues at
the cellular level. This discrete frequency we refer to as her Harmonic Resonance
Value or H.R.V.. Once the HRV is achieved, the low frequency sound waves act as a
carrier upon which emissions of varying frequencies or even electrical impulses can
be "piggy backed".
Earlier in the interview, Teresa had received but a small sample of the Exciter's true
potential when Larry used the device to induce loss of bladder control. That
demonstration had occurred without the benefit of having determined Teresa's
HRV. Now that Larry had her key frequency, he could manipulate Teresa's nervous
system almost at will. Thumbing yet another control, Larry smiled when the
teenager shivered involuntarily. He'd spent many exhaustive hours of training with
numerous subjects, and by now the older Handler had become relatively proficient
in the finer points of control. There was always room for improvement, though.
Larry was very pleased when he glanced to his left and saw that the young lady's
satiny areola were beginning to pucker. It was the precise reaction he was aiming
for.
"Whaaa??" Teresa gasped, suddenly when she felt her nipples start to become
erect. A second reflexive shudder washed over her. Her expression of confusion
was undeniable.
"Answer the question, Miss Davidson," Scott ordered with no lack of authority.
"Whaaa? Huh???" Teresa gazed at him blankly. She was becoming rather
distracted.
"Did you or did you not entertain approximately sixty lovers while you were at the
Facility. It's a simple question, Miss Davidson. 'Yes' or 'No' will suffice." Scott was
getting inpatient. He glanced at his wristwatch. The exam was taking much too
long. He needed to get on with it. Placing his hands on Teresa's legs just above her
knees, Scott leaned closer. "Miss Davidson, answer me immediately," he snapped,
looking her straight in the eye.
At first all Teresa could do was to stare at the young Handler. Then at last, she
answered, "Yeah... I... Sixty, I guess..." She looked away in shame as the full
weight of her admission struck her. She was just over eighteen years old and had
already been with more men than most women would sleep with in a lifetime. Teresa
was deeply humiliated by this fact. Scott made a note in her permanent record.
"Thank you, Miss Davidson," Scott said, removing his hands from her legs and
standing up. "Now, we must move along with all possible dispatch. Please pay
attention and answer the questions quickly and truthfully. No more stalling. I am
losing patience with you, and Miss Davidson," Scott said, his voice suddenly becoming
cold. "You don't want me to lose patience with you." He paused to allow his
statement to register with the stubborn teenager, then he looked at Larry. "Leave
it in her, but turn it off for the moment," Scott instructed his older assistant,
referring to the ICE Device. "I need her clear headed," he added. Larry nodded his
consent and immediately pressed a control surface. Teresa exhaled a shuddering
sigh when the unusual sensations which coursed through her body suddenly ceased.
Although she didn't recognize the symptoms due to the circumstances, those odd
and somehow familiar feelings she'd experienced were the pre-cursor to orgasm. If
either man had touched her right then, they would have found her surprisingly
advanced state of arousal and quite damp as a result. Larry knew the youngster
was turned on. He could see it in her eyes. He could smell her ardor. Larry was
extremely pleased with his new apparatus.
"I want you to answer 'Yes' or 'No' to the following questions, Miss Davidson," Scott
said flatly. It was not a request.
Teresa looked up at him expectantly. Her face felt flushed. "What came over me?"
she wondered.
"Let's begin, then," Scott said, gazing at his charge. "She'd been pretty close," he
noted to himself. "Obviously you've had vaginal sex, and after being a Guest at the
Facility, you've also taken a lover anally," Scott commented while making notes on his
clipboard. "How about, oral sex, Miss Davidson? I know for a fact that The Facility
isn't big on oral sex, but I've heard that from time to time Guests are escorted to
private chambers and more intimate surroundings at the request of some Clients.
Did you entertain Clients orally during your stay, Miss Davidson?" Then after a
brief pause, Scott added, "And before you came to be a Guest at The Facility did
you orally pleasure any of your past lovers?"
Again Teresa was shocked senseless by the nature of the young man's question.
She stared at him in disbelief. In her mind's eye, a vivid image of Bill Morrow
appeared. The drunken older man stood before her, his filthy penis clutched in his
fat fist, while he instructed her to open her mouth for him. Teresa shivered at the
memory of the smooth hot flesh touching her outstretched tongue the very first
time. She could remember his musky taste like it was yesterday. Bill had been very
patient with Teresa, teaching her just how to use her teeth and lips and tongue. By
the time their relationship ended, the teenager had become quite accomplished at
the art of fellatio. The act had disgusted Teresa then, and the memories of it
disgusted her now. Following her "break up" with Bill and his son Jeff, Teresa had
summarily refused any attempts by later male acquaintances to persuade her to
perform that dreadful and demeaning service. Thankfully, Teresa had also been
spared the humiliation of attending to any of the monsters at the neighboring
asylum orally. It had been almost two years since Teresa Davidson had admitted a
man's penis into her mouth. Unbeknownst to her at the time, this and many other
things were going to change dramatically.
"Miss Davidson?" Scott spoke, jarring Teresa back to the moment at hand. She
gazed at him almost stupidly. Without hesitation, Scott said to his assistant, "Give
Miss Davidson a reminder, please, Larry."
"No wait a min......" Teresa began, but never finished her sentence, because the wind
was knocked out of her.
With her Resonance Value already stored in its internal memory, the ICE was able
to instantly ramp up to frequency, charging the teenager's cellular structure and
linking virtually every nerve ending in her body together. When the shock pulse was
then delivered to Teresa's rectal lining, it was conducted throughout her anatomy in
a micro-second. The resulting sensation was exceptionally disturbing. Far more so
than the earlier off frequency pulses she'd received. Teresa felt like she'd been
struck by lightning. She even thought she saw a spark jump between her nipples.
"Have you ever had oral sex with a man, Miss Davidson? I don't need the details
right at the moment. We'll ask for that information at another time," Scott
insisted.
Left pale and shaking following the withering electronic blow, Teresa was only able
to nod her head.
"Very well," Scott acknowledged.
"Cunnilingus? Have you been tasted by a man or a woman, Miss Davidson?"
Teresa was too stunned to resist and too fearful of receiving another shock not to
answer the Handler. "N.. No.." she said in a shaky voice.
That response raised some eyebrows, but no comments were made by either man.
"Have you had sex with a woman, Miss Davidson?"
Teresa, though insulted by the question, only shook her head, "No".
"How about masturbation? Do you masturbate?" Scott asked flatly.
Teresa reddened noticeably. She thought again about resisting, but reconsidered
when she felt the other man move the horrible thing in her rear end ever so slightly.
"Sometimes," she admitted in a small voice.
In the interest of time, Scott elected not to press for details. "Do you use any
devices or toys when you masturbate, Miss Davidson?" he asked.
The teenager shook her head emphatically.
"That may change," Scott commented dryly as he gazed at the embarrassed girl.
Teresa averted her gaze. Then he said, "You're doing very well, Miss Davidson.
Please look at me, and we'll continue."
Slowly she raised her eyes to meet his. Teresa hadn't noticed before, but Scott's
eyes were grey.
"Now let's talk about your relationship with Mr...." Scott paused to consult his
notes. "Mr. Whitworth." He looked up at her.
Teresa returned the young man's gaze more cooly now. At the mention of Gregory's
name, she felt more secure somehow. Deep down there still existed that small
glimmer of hope that she might one day escape this madhouse. When that day
came, her fianc‚, Gregory Whitworth would surely set things right. "Gregory was a
powerful trial attorney, and he would see to it that each and every one of these
demented animals would rot in prison," Teresa fervently hoped.
"I see that Mr. Whitworth is quite a bit older than you are, Miss Davidson," Scott
commented, immediately getting Teresa's attention. "Are you in the habit of
engaging in relationships with older men? Does Mr. Whitworth remind you of Mr.
Morrow, your first lover, Miss Davidson?"
As intended, the question was devastating. Teresa naturally reacted as expected,
first with stunned silence, followed soon thereafter by white hot rage. "How dare
you compare that sleazy old man with my Gregory!" the teenager screamed. He's
nothing at all like that horrible man," Teresa insisted. "Gregory is kind and caring,"
she continued. "Uncl... Mr. Morrow," she corrected herself hastily, "was a selfish
bastard. He only wanted one thing from me and..." She would have certainly raged
on had Scott not interrupted her.
"Just a minute, Miss Davidson," he said sternly. Teresa shut her mouth and stared
at him hotly. Based upon the intensity of her reaction to his question, Scott knew
full well he'd struck a very raw nerve. "Let me ask you this," Scott continued more
calmly. "Doesn't your Mr. Whitworth want the same thing that Mr. Morrow wanted?
Doesn't he want to have his way with you just like your 'Uncle Bill' did?" Scott
smiled at the reaction he got from that statement.
Teresa was startled by his statement almost as much as she was annoyed by it.
"Why else would a forty-one year old attorney want to date a teenage girl?" Scott
added.
Teresa opened her mouth to refute him, but the logic behind what he'd said caused
her to stop and think.
Scott seized the opportunity to question her further. "How often did you allow Mr.
Whitworth into your bed, Miss Davidson, once a week, twice?" he asked. As often
as your 'Uncle Bill'?"
"Stop calling him that," Teresa snipped angrily.
"How often then, Miss Davidson?" Scott pressed.
She looked away and said quietly, "Once a week, sometimes."
"Sometimes?" Scott retorted immediately. "Do you mean sometimes more or
sometimes less, Miss Davidson? And look at me when I speak to you," he added.
"Less, mostly," Teresa said softly after looking up at him as he'd asked. She
appeared to be embarrassed more than should be expected.
"And why so infrequently?" Scott asked her. "Your relationship with Mr. Morrow
proves that you have a healthy appetite for sex, Miss Davidson. Was Mr.
Whitworth no good in bed. Didn't he satisfy you like your 'Uncle Bill'?"
Teresa blushed hotly at that. Interestingly enough, she didn't challenge him on his
use of 'Uncle Bill' this time. Bound there in the hideous Cooperation Seat at the
hands of mad men in place from which nightmares are made, Teresa had to admit
that the young man was close to the mark. Gregory Whitworth did not excite her.
When they made love, it was mechanical and left her unsatisfied. Teresa wondered
reluctantly from time to time, what she was doing with another older man. Why
didn't she find a boy her own age? What was truly unsettling, however, was the
fact that on more than one occasion as Gregory lay on top of her, huffing and
sweating, Teresa's thoughts drifted to Bill Morrow. As much as she hated the man,
her "Uncle Bill" had done things to her that had made her feel incredible. Gregory
Whitworth had never once been able to make Teresa feel that way.
As if he'd read her mind, Scott's next question was, "Did Mr. Whitworth have a big
penis, Miss Davidson?"
With a stunned look upon her face, Teresa shook her head. "N.. Not really," she
relied softly.
"I see," Scott said, making yet another note on his pad.
"Did either Mr. Whitworth or your 'Uncle Bill' ever make you cum," Miss Davidson?"
the young man asked point blank.
"Wha... what do you mean?" she asked lamely.
"Did you have orgasms with either man?" Scott responded in an exasperated tone of
voice. Then he added, "Do you routinely achieve orgasm, Miss Davidson?"
Again she blushed and dropped her gaze.
"Look at me, please," Scott snapped. "And answer me."
Reluctantly Teresa looked into his grey eyes. She was beet red when she answered,
"Not very much."
Scott gazed at the embarrassed teenager for several moments before stating
unequivocally, "That, Miss Davidson, we will most definitely remedy right away."
Scott nodded to Larry who pressed the appropriate sequence of contacts on the
handle of the Inter-Colonic Exciter. Almost thirteen inches distant the tiny sphere
came to life.
The feeling was back, deep inside of her tummy. Teresa's face felt hot, suddenly.
Her firm breasts tingled and throbbed, the nipples becoming taught and erect. The
insides of Teresa's thighs tingled as well. The smooth skin twitched from time to
time. What was most unsettling, however, was the way her skin "down there"
seemed almost to crawl. It felt very much like someone was touching her there.
Teresa tried to close her legs together, but of course, they were restrained by the
leg supports of the Cooperation Seat. She was starting to feel kind of breathless
as she licked her lips and gazed blankly at her Handler, waiting for his next
question. Teresa was having trouble focusing. She wanted very much to touch
herself. Her tummy heaved once and she groaned audibly.
Once more placing his hands on her knees, Scott leaned closer and asked one final
question. "What about incest, Miss Davidson? Did you ever play games with your
Daddy, maybe when you were a little girl?"
Wave after wave of prickling, titillating energy issued from the shining sphere and
passed from cell wall to cell wall, following pre-programmed pathways. One such
pathway terminated at Teresa's labia minora. The two petal-like flaps of skin which
closed together over her vaginal portal twitched and sizzled as they were caressed
by invisible fingers of raw energy. Upon very close inspection, miniature balls of St.
Elmo's Fire could be seen dancing across the dark pink edges of these sensitive
petals of female flesh. At the posterior end of Teresa's labia the induced impulses
dropped onto her anal sphincter, causing her puckered brown gateway to clutch
spasmodically around the impaling, non-conductive wand of the ICE. At the upper or
anterior end of the labia minora, hidden from view beneath a guardian hood of soft
flesh at their juncture, lies the clitoris. The tiny shroud of flesh was no match for
the harmonic carrier wave and the shimmering energy it channeled. In fact the
otherwise concealing and protective cloak only tended to transfer the pulsing
fingers more evenly over the entire surface of the highly sensitive erogenous organ
beneath. Teresa's hips jerked reflexively several times. She groaned again, this
time more loudly.
"Silence, Miss Davidson," Scott commanded. "You are to remain silent while you are
being attended to. Except to answer my question, of course," he added wryly.
A second electron highway culminated along the outer circumferences of Teresa's
delicate areolae. With a very troubled expression on her pretty face, the young
woman struggled to maintain eye contact, while at each of her magnificent breasts
invisible tongues of energy licked around and around her glass hard nipples in swift
circles.
The professional that he was, Scott recognized the telltale hazy, wild look in
Teresa's green eyes. She was struggling with her femininity, trying not to give in to
her natural instincts. Scott smiled at her knowingly and said, "You have not
answered my question, Miss Davidson."
Teresa had closed her eyes, briefly allowing the loving fingers of energy to carry
her away to a better place. "Huh?" she responded with a blank and confused
expression.
Scott felt her flexing her thighs beneath his fingers as she unconsciously sought to
close her legs around the waist of her invisible lover. "When you were a little girl,
Miss Davidson, did you ever engage in sex play with your father?" he asked the
troubled teen.
Rather than a reaction of outrage and anger which one might expect, Teresa sat in
silence for several seconds. The only indication that she'd even heard the question,
was the fact that her facial expressions slowly clouded over from the muzziness of
her ardor to those dark, distant reaches of the psyche that are rarely visited.
Scott watched her very closely. Her lower abdominal muscles had developed a slow
rhythm of flexing and relaxing. Her breathing rate was elevated and slightly
ragged. A very noticeable color had made its way into her shoulders, neck and face.
Scott rightly surmised that Teresa was wrestling with distant, long buried wisps of
memory. It had been a long shot, but now Scott was convinced that he was onto
something.
Teresa's body jerked once, but she remained deep in thought. Grey and furtive
images swirled among the sharp edged, and brilliant sensations that made their way
from the core of her being to dance over every square inch on her body. Vague
imaginings of her bedroom when she was little came briefly into focus. There was
someone there.
"Daddy?" little Teresa said from her bed. "Is that you, Daddy?"
"Yes, Terry." Her father called her Terry. "Daddy's here to make you feel really
special again. Would you like that, baby?"
"Oh, yes, Daddy," little Terry answered, pulling down the sheets and tugging her
nightie up to her chin.
"Daddy loves his special princess," the shadowy memory said, then he kissed her
tummy and her knees and the tops of her thighs and...
Little Teresa laughed and laughed. She loved her Daddy. He made her feel so
special.
"Well, Miss Davidson? I'm waiting," Teresa's Handler prompted.
She looked up at him almost beseechingly, as if to ask him not to ask her to go
there. "I... I... I don't know," she replied at last and with great difficulty. She
looked away.
In what appeared to be a rare moment of compassion, Scott decided to let her off
the hook for the time being. He made another entry on his clipboard to revisit this
line of questioning later. Incidents of early age incest could be molded into valuable
teaching aids, Scott knew. "Very well, then, Miss Davidson. That concludes the
interview part of our examination. We only need to take a few measurements, and
we'll be finished."
The young woman gazed down at him as if from a great distance. "Let's see how
we're doing, shall we," the young Handler said as he casually dropped his hand
between Teresa's thighs. "Look at me, Miss Davidson," Scott ordered as he pressed
his finger tips against the plumpness of her cleanly shaved vulva. It was like
squeezing a warm, ripe melon. Teresa virtually exploded in Scott's hand as he
cupped the smoothness of her womanhood.
All of the Guests of The Facility were not only shaven, but in addition, their body
hair was permanently removed using a patented cold Laser treatment. Scott had
the opportunity to handle one other transferred Guest of the Facility a few months
back. Many of his co-workers preferred a soft coat of pubic curls, neatly trimmed,
of course, but Scott had decided after his first experience, that he rather liked
clean young ladies.
"I'd have to say that your gadget is working," Scott chucked to his partner, Larry.
"She's about as wet as they come."
Hearing his remark, Teresa immediately looked away, embarrassed by a condition
that had plagued her since puberty, and one which was exacerbated by the designer
drug she'd been given in the office of the Headmaster.
"Look at me, Miss Davidson," Scott ordered. "A Guest must maintain direct eye
contact with her Handler at all times," he quoted.
"You are a very wet young lady, Miss Davidson," Scott commented casually as he
continued to manipulate her supple flesh. His palm and fingers quickly became
coated with silken fluids which he calmly transferred to her heavy labia majora and
the insides of her thighs. Teresa was mortified. "Now that you mention it," he
continued, winking at his fellow Handler who controlled the device that was mostly
responsible for Teresa's discomfort at the moment. "You should have heard this
little lady when she made love to Cliff at her Double 'I'. It sounded like a wet
popcorn factory in the Headmaster's office." Grinning at Teresa's obvious distress,
Scott extended his middle finger between her ample lips then shook his hand
playfully from side to side. "Such a nice wet, little girl," the Handler murmured as
he held Teresa's eyes locked to his. Each time Scott shook his hand quickly
between her thighs, liquid snapping and popping sounds filled the silent room.
In spite of her discomfort and humiliation, the added stimulation Scott provided by
touching her suddenly caused young Teresa to notice the beginnings of something
she hadn't felt in a very long time. Scott saw the signs almost simultaneously. Even
in the relatively brief time that the young man had spent in the employ of The
Youth Training Center, Scott had witnessed induced female orgasm more times than
he could count. The indications were plainly evident to the trained eye, facial
expressions ranging from concern to wonder, the inward focus of the eyes, the
muzzy appearance of womb centering. All were unmistakable and impossible to
either conceal or simulate, contrary to what most women believe.
"Our little lady is going to cum for us, Larry. I do believe," Scott said almost
jovially. Teresa gave him a very distressed look.
"I figured it wouldn't be long," Larry responded. "The ICE has been 'jazzin'' her
clitoris and her tits for the past fifteen minutes." Teresa shuddered, both from
her impending climax and from being discussed like a pet at the veterinarian's office.
"Do you want to let her go, or cut her off?" Larry asked. Teresa pleaded with Scott
with her eyes. Whether she was asking to be allowed to continue or for them to
desist was uncertain. In any case, the decision was Scott's alone, and he would
make it based upon his training, not on the wants or needs of a Guest.
"I think that should be enough for now," Scott decided. He watched Teresa's facial
expression closely in order to judge her reaction. Larry immediately silenced the
ICE device, causing the hot young teenager to begin to ramp down from near
apogee. Keeping his hand between her legs, Scott administered periodic manual
stimulation to Teresa while her ardor ever so gradually subsided. Although the once
proud young woman struggled bravely to regain her composure, and to attempt to
conceal the extent of her arousal from the young professional, Scott read her like a
book. The slightly pouting mouth, the thinly veiled glimmer of longing in her green
eyes, Teresa Davidson was plainly disappointed that she had not been aloud to reach
climax. After removing his hand from between her legs, Scott wiped his hands on a
towel attached to one chair arm expressly for that purpose. He then made a note in
her records regarding her very positive reaction to coitus interruptus.
"Let's remove the ICE, Larry," Scott instructed his associate. "It is indeed a
splendid apparatus, and I'm sure it will become a regular diagnostic tool." Larry
didn't try to hide his appreciation as he pressed a button on the knurled handle of
the Inter-Colonic Exciter, causing the articulated wand which had attained a length
of almost thirteen inches during the course of their examination, to quickly retract
back into the handle. Teresa gasped and gripped the arms of the Cooperation Seat
when she felt the device withdraw from her interior. It was a sickening feeling
which caused her to shiver violently. While Larry went about cleaning the ICE then
packing it away in its carrying case, Scott moved to the side of the room, and after
a bit of clattering, returned carrying a shallow metal instrument tray. After placing
it on a side table, he turned and addressed his co-worker again. "You can stand by if
you wish, Larry," Scott offered. "If you do, I'll ask you to provide 'presence' after
a spell, but for now I think I'll leave her empty while I get her temperatures and
dimensions. Or, if you wish, you can take off. I can simply CAP her again when the
time comes. It's up to you."
Teresa stared from one male face to the other, astounded by the way they
discussed their atrocious plans with such indifference.
"I think I'll stick around, if you don't mind, Scott," Larry replied. "Miss Davidson
here was a handful when I first arrived. Seems she's calmed down some, but you
never know. They can get crazy on you before you know it. She's a pretty thing,
and I'd hate to see her injure herself accidentally." While he spoke he placed his
hand on Teresa's right breast and began to toy with the resilient flesh. Teresa shot
him and icy stare. "See what I mean," Larry chuckled as he began to twirl a taught
nipple between his fingers and thumb. He was referring to Teresa's display of
hostility toward him. "She's a feisty one alright."
While Larry prattled on, Scott went to work. Removing a glass thermometer from
the instrument tray, he shook the mercury down past the "Normal" mark. Then
without a word of commentary or warning he reached between Teresa's thighs and
pushed the small instrument into her recently vacated rectal passage.
"Hey!" Teresa squawked in surprise.
"Silence, Miss Davidson," Scott responded. He glanced at his wristwatch then
turned and began to fiddle with another instrument in the tray. After three
minutes time, the young Handler removed the thermometer from Teresa's rear end,
noted the reading and immediately placed it into her vagina. Next, and to Teresa's
great consternation, under threat of re-insertion of the Inter-Colonic Exciter,
Teresa was made to open up and accept the unwashed glass rod into her mouth.
Teresa gagged horribly at first, but she was quickly told by her Handler to get used
to it. "She would be tasting herself quite often," he said. After approximately ten
minutes, Teresa's rectal, vaginal and oral temperatures were all duly recorded in her
permanent record.
"And now, Miss Davidson, I am going to get your vaginal measurements."
"What?" Teresa asked, forgetting her place.
Surprisingly, she was not reprimanded for her outburst. Instead, Scott explained
what he intended to do to her in greater detail. We will determine both your
current internal capacity as well as the degree of fitness of your vaginal muscles."
Seeing a questioning look on her face, Scott tried to explain further. "Your
capacity, Miss Davidson, is simply that. It is a measurement in cubic inches of the
volume of an object or objects which can be safely placed into your vagina at this
time without danger of injury." His frankness was very unsettling. "The second
measurement will tell us in what kind of shape you are in, internally. Have you ever
tried Kegel exercise, Miss Davidson?" When he received nothing but a blank look
from the teenager, Scott said, "Never mind. An appalling number women are just
like you, Miss Davidson. They feel that sex is to be tolerated, not excelled at.
With our help, on the other hand, you will soon be in excellent shape, I can assure
you. And the training that you will receive will help you to realize the true value of
your internal fitness." When Teresa made no comment, Scott said, "OK then let's
get started."
Without further delay he reached between her legs with his left hand. Then using
his thumb and fingers, he separated Teresa's ample labia majora, exposing the
darker pink lips between them. Everywhere there was copious amounts of vaginal
mucous. With the two middle fingers of his right hand, Scott entered Teresa,
causing her to groan audibly. He shot her a warning glance. For several minutes
Teresa was forced to endure the young man's invasive exploration of her femininity.
Scott pressed and probed. Without warning, he slipped a finger into her anal
passage then pushed his thumb into her vagina. Called "The Bowling Ball" by many,
Scott held Teresa thus while he palpated the tissues separating her two abdominal
passages. For Teresa, the experience was not at all gratifying. Scott withdrew
after a few minutes and wiped his hands. Then, from the instrument tray, he picked
up a white cylindrical device and held it up for Teresa's inspection.
The Vaginal Micrometer is another highly specialized instrument designed by The
Center's technical staff. At first glance it appeared to be nothing more than an
elongated phallus approximately one inch in diameter and eighteen inches long. Made
of white acrylic, the length of the shaft was calibrated in both inches and
centimeters with black bands. One end of the device tapers to a rounded point,
while the other is blunted. On the blunt end can be found the controls. On one
side there was a small LCD display next to a round, black button covered with a
protective rubber boot. The afore mentioned button activates the pulsed shock
function of the instrument.
Here's how it works. The graduation reference bands are obvious. Using them, the
depth of a Guest's vaginal passage can be readily determined, although there is more
to getting an accurate measurement than one might expect. In order to ascertain
vaginal diameter over the length of the shaft, a bit of science is employed.
Following insertion of the device into the vagina, a pulsed shock of very short
duration is delivered to the vaginal walls through electrodes along the length of the
shaft. The electrical shock, although mildly uncomfortable for the recipient, causes
her vaginal muscles to flex and contract, which in turn exerts a force measured in
pounds per square inch upon a myriad of pressure sensing elements also embedded
along the entire length of the instrument. By calculating the difference in pressure
values between vaginal contraction and those of the same muscle groups at rest,
vaginal diameter can be derived. From there, it's simple geometry to calculate the
volume of a cylindrical solid based on length and diameter, less a little for the
tapered tip, of course.
Teresa knew what a dildo was. She'd even used one on a couple of occasions, but
she'd never had one used on her. That was about to change. She watched then with
a goodly amount of trepidation as her Handler guided the tip of the device
downward and between her thighs. Instinctively Teresa tried to close her legs
together, but of course, she couldn't. Scott pressed the tip of the appliance
between her ample hairless outer gates. Glancing up, he first noticed that she
clutched the arms of the Cooperation Seat tight enough to cause her knuckles to
turn white. Then he saw Teresa push her head back against the headrest in
preparation for penetration.
"Relax, Miss Davidson," Scott instructed the young teenager. "I watched you take
Cliff inside quite handily. You should have no trouble at all handling this apparatus."
With no further comment, Scott pushed the Vaginal Micrometer into Teresa with
practiced ease, watching inch after inch disappear into her until at last, his progress
was halted when the tapered tip arrived at her cervical area at the very back of her
birth canal. Scott took note of the resistance he felt on the shaft as Teresa
instinctively opposed penetration. "Not too bad," he thought to himself. "She's
more fit than I would have guessed."
He made a note of the initial penetration numbers. Ten inches, he wrote in his log.
Next, and much to Teresa's dismay, Scott began to move the instrument in and out
of her, slowly at first, then with ever increasing rapidity. In essence, he was
fucking her with the hard plastic probe. Scott used long strokes. Each cycle, saw
the long instrument travel the entire length of Teresa's vagina. After every dozen
or so repetitions, the Handler paused at the end of the ingress cycle and pressed
the tapered tip against the back of her vaginal passage with a little more force.
What he was really doing was taking more depth readings. Almost everyone knows
that a young lady will tend to stretch a bit during love making. For this reason it is
important to take more than one measurement before settling on a "keeper".
"Eleven and three quarters inches," Scott jotted in his log. After getting two more
readings of practically the same value, the Handler had his depth measurement.
During the process of procuring these numbers, Scott was gratified to find that his
young charge showed discrete signs of participation. After a period of time, he
distinctly felt her start to clutch at the impaling object through the handle of the
hard plastic probe. Scott allowed her to "take the wheel" for awhile, moving the
shaft only when he felt Teresa bear down in an attempt to let her adjust to the
instrument prior to his taking her diameter. Scott pushed the device forward until
the twelve inch calibration ring just touched her inner labia. She moaned softly.
Scott pressed the pulsed shock control.
Teresa's reaction was extraordinary. She even caught Scott off guard, actually
snatching the butt end of the instrument from his grasp as her hips thrust upward
to the extent of the restraint band at her waist. Her head flew back against the
head rest with an audible thump, and a most unladylike grunt escaped her lips.
Teresa's strong body stayed arched off the surface of the Cooperation Seat for
over two seconds, before at last, her rear end fell back into the thigh cradles.
Scott could see the LED display flashing from between the girl's legs.
"Are you crazy!" Teresa shouted at the young Handler as he slowly extracted the
Vaginal Micrometer from her body.
"Silence, Miss Davidson," Scott commanded. Then he turned to Larry and said, "I
think she can use some 'Presence' now, if you don't mind.
Taking a seat once again on the low stool beside the Cooperation Seat, Larry
assured his fellow Handler, "No problem at all. Glad to help out," he said as he
reached up under the young teenager. With a single deft move that only comes
from constant practice, the older Handler located Teresa's anal opening with the tip
of his long middle finger then pushed inside past the second knuckle until his palm
came to rest against her firm buttocks. He felt her shudder both inside and out.
Her head rocked back against the headrest and her nostrils flared, but she managed
to remain silent.
Larry never ceased to be amazed how quickly even the most willful young ladies
adapted to the TYTC Program. It was brilliant in its conception, flawless in its
execution and boasted a one hundred per cent rate of success. That in itself is
nothing short of a miracle. During his tenure with The Center, Larry had certainly
seen and worked with his fair share of challenging young women. A few he'd felt
certain would have to be removed prior to completing their training, but then
something totally unexpected would occur during the course of her stay, and from
that troublesome and insubordinate girl would bloom a Fully Functional Female,
ready and willing to take her proper place in society.
Clearing his throat to get her attention, Scott addressed his young charge. "Miss
Davidson, you are a healthy young woman." He smiled when she looked up at him
cooly. Based upon the data gathered by the Vaginal Micrometer and my manual
palpation I have calculated that your vagina is capable of accommodating a mass
equal to fifty-seven, decimal six cubic inches. In laymen's terms, this means that
you should be able to comfortably entertain a male lover who's penis is eleven and
three quarters inches in length and two and one half inches in girth.
Teresa's reaction was quite amusing, but Scott maintained his professional
demeanor in spite of her reaction. Her eyes were as big as saucers. Outright
astonishment mixed with a healthy dose of anxiety would best describe the
expression on Teresa's face as she contemplated the significance of the Handler's
statement. Granted, she wasn't the best judge of this sort of thing, but she was
pretty sure that a man of that size would be difficult for her. She'd been with a lot
of men lately, but short of the monster who'd raped her this morning in the office
of the vile Headmaster, none of them had been particularly well endowed, at least
not to the degree her young Handler described.
Recognizing Teresa's expression of concern, Scott offered, "You need not be
concerned about your well-being, Miss Davidson. At TYTC we provide our Guests
with highly structured activities. You will not be expected to perform at full
capacity until we deem you ready. Prior to that time, you will enjoy a very
comprehensive curriculum of education and training, and of course, ample
opportunity to practice your skills.
Throughout his evil dissertation Teresa sat in silence. Although her situation
appeared hopeless, she would not give in to despair. In an attempt to regain some
semblance of composure, Teresa tried to mentally catalog her surroundings, faces
and names. When the day came, and surely it would, that she would be delivered
from this abhorrent asylum, she must be armed with the evidence her fianc‚' would
need to put this pack of deviants away forever. She glared icily at the young
Handler at her feet, hoping her thoughts of black hostility where noted. Her
concentration was broken, however, when the man at her side twisted his finger in
her rear end, then began to move it slowly in and out... in and out... in and out.
Teresa suppressed a groan and fought for control. What the man was doing to her
was so dehumanizing. She shuddered. Inside her anal sphincter gripped the man's
impaling digit reflexively. "God, I wish he would stoppppp!" her mind screamed.
Larry realized the teenager was losing focus. He recognized that calculating
expression on her face. "She's probably planning her escape or dreaming up ways to
kill us all," Larry thought with a little chuckle. "They all do in the first few weeks.
Funny, though, after all the time she'd spent next door. Sometimes I think our
neighbor's program tends to harden them, more so than condition them," he
reflected. "Ah, well. She's here with us now, and it's time for her to cast aside her
old ways and pay attention." Larry knew his job. He'd done this hundreds of times
before. He knew very well that as he started to move his finger inside of her, the
young woman's thoughts would be inexorably drawn to her center. By providing
Teresa with anal presence, Larry helped her to focus her thoughts on the here and
now. "No more fantasizing about escape or vengeance for you, little lady," he
thought to himself. When he felt her squeeze his finger, Larry knew he had her
attention.
"Are you with us, Miss Davidson?" Scott asked. "I expect for you to pay attention."
When Teresa looked at him, Scott immediately noticed that the telltale indications
of impetuousness and hostility present in her expression just moments ago had
vanished. "Larry is a good man to work with," Scott acknowledged. "He definitely
knew his business." Scott glanced at his clipboard. "You mentioned earlier that you
are not using contraceptives. What exactly did you and Mr. Whitworth do about
that? And what about Mr. Morrow?"
Teresa reddened with embarrassment, then after a moment, she muttered
something unintelligible.
"I beg your pardon, Miss Davidson? What did you say? Scott pressed.
Staring past the young Handler, Teresa confessed, "They wore rubbers." Then afer
a short pause she added, "Most of the time."
Teresa recalled those many occasions when Bill Morrow had gotten very drunk. It
was those times that no matter how much she pleaded with the man, he would
summarily refuse to use protection. Teresa shivered when she thought of the many
times she'd driven herself home after and evening with Mr. Morrow, feeling his
semen leak from her depths to soak the cotton lining of her panties. In her mind's
eye, she imagined his beautiful swimmers assaulting the gates of her womb. She
knew all too well that it would only take one successful soldier for her to become
pregnant with her boyfriend's father's baby. Thankfully the relationship had ended
before the unimaginable occurred.
Gregory, on the other hand, was much more malleable than Teresa's first lover. On
those increasingly rare occasions when they made love, she had little difficulty
convincing her more venerable fianc‚ to use a prophylactic, thereby rendering the
physical aspect of their relationship as unsatisfying for Gregory as it was for
Teresa.
"I see," Scott said thoughtfully. Then he walked over to yet another cabinet and
returned with another pneumatic vaccination gun. "At TYTC we believe that all
mechanical contraceptive measures are lacking in one way or another," Scott
explained while he attached a glass vial to the inoculation device. So you'll be happy
to know, Miss Davidson, that our chemists have developed an extremely effective,
fast acting, systemic contraceptive." Without so much as a blink of his eyes, Scott
lowered the gun, pressed its muzzle against the soft flesh of Teresa's left buttock
and squeezed the trigger.
"Snick...," came the soft report.
Teresa flinched reflexively even though there was very little actual pain.
"There we are, Miss Davidson," Scott said cheerfully as he turned and strode across
the examination room to stow his equipment. Upon his return to her side, he
continued. "Now you can make love as often as you like with absolutely no worries
about getting pregnant." The pretty brunette turned and gave the young Handler a
nasty look. "And speaking of making love, I do believe we're all through here, and I
know for a fact that there are a couple of gentlemen who are just dying to make
your acquaintance." Scott gave her a conspiratorial wink.
Teresa simply could not believe what she was hearing. There was little doubt in her
mind now that she was dealing with mad men. Then suddenly she shuddered
violently as the man seated beside her withdrew his middle finger from her rectal
passage.
"Well, I guess I'll take off, Scott, if you don't think you'll be needing me any
further," Larry said good naturedly. "Are you going to be a good girl, and not give
Scott any more trouble, Missy?" he asked, taking Teresa's left nipple between his
fingers and thumb, he tweaked the firm little nubbin playfully. Teresa glared back
at him icily, causing Larry to chuckle. "Yes siree, she's a scrapper, alright." Then
looking up at his friend who stood between the young woman's legs as they lay
restrained apart in the cradles of the Cooperation Seat, Larry asked, "You all set
then, Scott, my man?"
Scott scribbled a few more notes on his clipboard before answering. Then with a
smile, he turned to his friend and colleague. "Hey, I can't thank you enough, Larry.
It's been a real pleasure to work with you." He offered his hand to the older man.
Scott and Larry shook hands across the naked body of young Teresa Davidson who
stared up at them in utter disbelief from her restrained position in the wicked piece
of specialty furniture.
After Larry made his exit, Scott spent several minutes tidying up the equipment.
Then, much to Teresa's dismay, the young Handler picked up the size seven CAP
device.
"Ohhh..." she whined when he showed it to her. Teresa hated herself when she
whined.
"Now, now, my dear," Scott said patronizingly. "You might just as well accept the
fact that while you are with us here at TYTC, you will be expected to carry one of
these." When Teresa refused to comment, Scott stepped between her legs. He
watched expressions of concern and revulsion play across her face when he pressed
the blunt tip of the anal torpedo between her labia majora. "Why a girl of your
stature should have no problem at all with a size seven, Miss Davidson," Scott
commented idly as he rotated the device plump lips, coating it with Teresa's own
abundant lubricant. Leaning closer, Scott slid the tip of the CAP slowly farther
back between her thighs. Although Scott, like all Handlers, could navigate the
female reproductive anatomy blindfolded, he knew when he'd arrived over his target.
Scott could see it in her eyes. "Just relax now," he murmured as he pushed upward
on the flat base of Teresa's CAP. Her expressions told Scott precisely where he
was. At first there was the look of concern as she felt herself begin to dilate
around the tip of the apparatus. Scott continued to apply steady upward pressure.
Then abruptly Scott felt the CAP jump forward as Teresa's first anal sphincter
acquiesced. The moment was mirror in her expression as well by a prolonged blink
of her wildly staring green eyes. Then came a flaring of her nostrils and a slight
quivering of her lower lip. At last Teresa leaned her head slowly back against the
padded head rest of the Cooperation Seat and gave a soft sigh at the exact same
time that Scott's finger tips came in contact with the warm flesh of her shapely
backside. Teresa Anne Davidson once again became acutely aware of her lower
abdominal passages and the fact that she was female.
End (for now)... SM
Author's closing note:
This chapter concludes Teresa's Tale for the time being. Following her CAP
placement, Scott introduces Teresa into the general population of the Center,
where she goes on to develop many, many meaningful relationships. In the early
pages of this chapter of The Youth Training Center, I eluded to a few more new
devices and techniques. Rest assured that eventually, we will revisit Teresa to see
how she's getting along in her new life. Until then there are other tales to tell.
Regards... SM