Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 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.

   Wonder Wing - Chapters One thru Three - by - The StoryMaster

   It had been years in the making, and today was the day.  Originally the
brain child of Rick Adams, the current TYTC Headmaster, and predicated upon
the undeniable increase in demand by the public for the company of young
ladies in their formative years, the new Wonder Wing of the venerable
establishment actually embraced the very name of The Youth Training Center.

   "This is a big day, Andrew," Rick Adams said to his second in command.
The pride in his voice and on his face was unmistakable.

   "I agree, boss," the burly Handler said, addressing his colleague in a
cordial yet respectful manner.

   Andrew held the utmost respect for Rick Adams, and although he and Rick
were good friends, first and foremost they were colleagues in a fellowship
of highly dedicated individuals, making up the ranks of the TYTC Handlers.
Recently Rick Adams had assumed the position of Headmaster of the
institution when after nearly thirty-five years, the post was vacated by
Adam North, founder of The Youth Training Center.  Andrew wasn't in the
least bit jealous or envious of his good friend, believing firmly that
Rick, better than anyone else, would uphold the principles of the TYTC
doctrine and continue the Center's good and valuable work.  And as if to
confirm Andrew's beliefs, here the two of them were, standing before a
wide, red satin ribbon which spanned the entrance hall doors of the
Center's brand new Wonder Wing.

   "You've worked very hard for this, Rick," Andrew commented, slapping his
friend on the shoulder.  "This is your day," Andrew went on.  "So with no
further ado, why don't you cut the ribbon, and make all of us proud," he
said, addressing the small group of men and one woman gathered nearby with
a smile and a wink.  Then he turned and handed Rick a large pair of gilded
ceremonial scissors.

   It was quite an emotional occasion for Rick Adams, for indeed he had
worked harder than most to bring the project to fruition, but being a
modest individual, upon accepting the scissors from his friend, Rick turned
to the small assembly and said, "I hereby dedicate this new wing of The
Youth Training Center to the betterment of womankind, for it is through all
of our efforts that this dream has at last become a reality." He then cut
the wide red ribbon to the accompaniment of enthusiastic applause.

   Although a lot of the staff present had spent many hours laboring at the
final preparations for the grand opening of the new wing, only a few had
actually visited the facility during the last couple of weeks.  Muffled
murmurs of appreciation could be heard from the group as they moved down
the wide hallway.

   "Do we have any Guests in residence yet?" a large, dark haired man
dressed in the glowing white coveralls of a TYTC Handler asked of no one in
particular.

   "Correct me if I'm wrong, Andrew, but I believe we have nine so far,"
Rick Adams responded to the question, glancing in Andrew's direction.

   "Nine is correct," Andrew replied as they continued up the hall toward
the common area.  To a man, everyone noted some rather significant
differences between the new facility and the rest of The Youth Training
Center.  For one thing, unlike the austere off white corridors of the main
sections, the walls here were decorated with brightly colored cartoon
images, similar to those one might find in a child's coloring book.  Only
the theme was different.

   "Alice in Wonderland," the one woman dressed in white commented
casually.

   "Yes, indeed, Cynthia," Andrew responded with a smile.  "Alice is our
wing's namesake, and considering the incredible amount of time and effort
spent by the Research and Development Department in close partnership as
always with our dedicated team of psychologists and guidance counselors in
putting together the special new training program, I can't imagine this
facility representing anything less than a wonderland for any young lady."

   Heads nodded all around as they continued up the hallway, eyeing the
cartoon images of the little blond girl in the classic children's story by
Lewis Carroll and made popular by the Walt Disney Studios.  The images had
naturally been adapted to the purpose and theme of The Youth Training
Center and were just another example of the attention to detail that is
typical of the TYTC program.

   The corridor eventually opened into a large brightly lit common area
who's walls were painted in colorful hues.  Cartoons and other
instructional images were everywhere.

   "Stan, there you are," Rick Adams called to the new head of the Wonder
Wing.  Everyone tuned to see a man seated on the end of a large modular
style sofa arrangement to their left.  His back was toward the group, but
no one missed the pair of pale and slender arms which encircled his neck.

   Led by Rick, the team of Handlers crossed the room in silence in the
direction of the man on the couch.  As they approached, the man raised his
hands up, and gently grasping the small arms which hugged his broad
shoulders, he brought them around in front of him.

   "That will be all for now, Antonia," the Handler named Stan said to his
young partner who was seated in his lap.  "We'll begin again in an hour or
so.  In the meantime, I want you to return to your room and watch the
newest movie I've scheduled for you.  Do you understand?" The girl nodded
her head, glancing shyly over the Handler's shoulder at the approaching
group of people.

   "Oh my goodness," someone in the group exclaimed under his or her
breath. The little girl looked away self-consciously as she squirmed off
the man's lap, then she took the man's hand when he extended it to her. 
"Girl" is hardly an adequate word to describe the small figure of
loveliness who stood bashfully beside the sofa.  Goddess would be far more
accurate.

   "Rick, how are you," Stan responded pleasantly.  Then regarding the rest
of the entourage he said, "Ah, this must be the Grand Opening Ceremony. 
Well let me be the first to say congratulations to you, Rick," he added as
he got to his feet.  Turning to face the group, Stan stepped behind the
dark haired beauty and placed his hands onto her bare shoulders. 
"Gentlemen, may I present, Miss Antonia Lumas," Stan said in a formal tone
of voice.  Then under his breath he whispered to his lovely young charge,
"Uncover, Antonia!" when he noticed that the girl was attempting to cover
her nudity with her hands.  He squeezed the muscles of her shoulders
firmly, but not so hard as to cause pain.  Immediately she dropped her
hands to her sides and stood blushing hotly under the collective stares of
the assembled visitors.  "Antonia and I were just working on our kissing
technique, weren't we, darling," Stan pointed out.  With his right hand he
stroked her lush dark hair, causing her to blush all the more hotly.  She
nodded her head.  She was nothing short of stunning.  "Antonia's been with
us for almost two weeks," the older man added proudly as he pulled the
youngster's long hair back from her shoulders, gathering the soft mane in
his hands.  She looked up at him timidly.  "Antonia's eleven years old, and
she's an excellent kisser.  Aren't you, darling," Stan said with a wink,
causing the pretty little brunette to look away bashfully.  "Say hello to
everybody, Antonia."

   Instinctively the girl's hands crept back over her more private areas as
she squirmed uncomfortably under the scrutiny of the group.  "Hello," she
mumbled almost inaudibly.  Here dark eyes were downcast.

   "She is lovely," the only woman in the entourage commented.  "But what
about...?"

   "The Standard Greeting?" Rick Adams offered.  "Perhaps Stan will
explain." He nodded toward his friend and colleague.

   "Look up, Antonia and uncover, please," Stan reminded the youngster. 
"Remember, Antonia, we must always look people in the eye, and tell me what
else we've learned," the Handler coached.

   A brief period of silence followed while the sweet child wrestled with
her conscience in an effort to thwart nearly eleven years of parental and
societal conditioning.  "Nice girls don't wear clothes," she whispered at
last.

   "I beg your pardon, Antonia," Stan responded.  "We couldn't hear you,
darling," he added in a kindly tone of voice.

   A few seconds passed, and then slowly the lovely young girl raised her
big dark eyes to the members of the group and stated in a clear voice,
"Nice girls don't wear clothes Nice clothes don't make nice girls."

   "That's very, very good, Antonia," Stan complimented the youngster. 
Then kneeling before the sweet child, he turned her to face him, and the
two of them kissed.  It was heartwarming to witness.  "Now run along," Stan
said as he regained his feet.  Then he leaned down and patted her on the
bottom as she turned and padded off in the direction of her room.

   Turning then to the ceremonial entourage, Stan moved around the end of
the sofa, and approached the young woman dressed in the white coveralls of
a TYTC Handler.  "I don't believe we've met," he said casually as he
stepped in front of the woman.  "Actually she was a rather attractive young
lady in her own right," Stan thought to himself eyeing the blond up and
down.  He still wasn't exactly sure how he felt about females in the roll
of Handlers.  It just didn't seem natural, but he'd certainly heard enough
supportive arguments for the new program.  "Time will tell, I suppose,"
Stan muttered to himself as he reached down and grasped the oversized fob
on the lower zipper of her coveralls.

   When the decision was made to initiate the first female Handlers,
understandably a great deal of controversy erupted within the all male rank
and file.  There were many who adamantly opposed the program, and some even
threatened to resign, prompting the need for some quick politics.  The
following resolution was eventually adopted, but even now there are those
who still are not satisfied.

   Female Handlers Policy

   All female Handlers shall be graduates of the TYTC Program, and be
certified

   free of EFIRS.

   Female Handlers shall be afforded all the privileges of Male Handlers
with respect

   to Guest behavior and training.

   Female Handlers shall not be required to wear a CAP Device, but may do
so if

   she chooses.

   Female Handlers shall be allowed to initiate conversation.

   Female Handlers shall not wear undergarments.

   Female Handlers shall continue to receive Thelazine boosters while in
the employ

   of TYTC.

   Female Handlers shall, when instructed to do so, subjugate themselves
before

   their Male counterparts, and they shall be issued specially modified
uniforms to

   facilitate access.

   It was only by the addition of this final guideline that the policy was
even marginally accepted.  A lot of the dissenting grumbles vanished,
however, when the design for the female Handler coverall was made public.

   The specialized white coveralls of a TYTC Handler are designed to be
exceptionally functional.  The two way zippers down the front, for example,
allow a Handler to free himself for service in a twinkling.  Since the
female version of the garment needed to provide access to more than one
opening, the two way zipper of the Male garment was extended between the
legs, around and up to an area near the small of the back.  Additionally,
the zipper pull fobs were increased in size.

   Having spent many months as a Guest of the Center, Cynthia new what was
expected.  Squaring her shoulders, she looked her Male counterpart directly
in the eye while he tugged her uniform zipper upward just enough to expose
her soft belly.  Another rule which made the new policy a bit more
palatable for many stated that female Handlers shall not wear
undergarments. Without having to be instructed to do so, Cynthia stepped to
one side, spreading her feet to shoulder width as Stan reached his hand
into the opening in her clothing.

   "My name is Cynthia," she said, responding to his original question as
the man cupped her womanhood firmly in his hand and began to rub her with
authority.

   "And how long have you been a female Handler, Cynthia?" Stan asked.

   "A...about two months," Cynthia responded with a little shudder when she
felt him being to press upward between her ample labia majora with his
middle finger.  She knew the drill.  When she was a Guest, she submitted to
the Standard Greeting a dozen or more times a day.  Desperately Cynthia
struggled to maintain her composure and her professionalism as he hunted
for her vaginal opening.

   "I see,"Stan said with a smile as he slipped his middle finger up into
the moist confines of her vaginal passage.  No matter how hard she tried to
disguise her reaction to his intrusion, the young blond was like an open
book to Stan as her emotions played across her face like a slide show. 
Somewhere deep in her psyche she resented his touching her in such a
manner, but due to her successful completion of the TYTC Program, she
allowed it even welcomed it.  "And do you consider yourself to be an
effective and useful member of our team?" Stan asked as he probed about
inside of the young blond.  Stan hadn't known Cynthia while she was in
residence, but he could tell both from her thinly veiled expressions of
discomfort, as well as her vaginal reactions to palpation that she'd been a
feisty one.  "Surprising that she chose to become a Handler,"Stan mused. 
He briefly considered ordering her into the Service Position and putting
her through her paces, but thought better of it due to time constraints.

   "Uh huh," Cynthia answered, but her focus was directed elsewhere.  She'd
intended to give the man a responsible and professional answer to his
question regarding her effectiveness as a Handler, but Cynthia was
beginning to experience difficulty processing her thoughts.  "God," she
groaned under her breath between tightly clenched teeth.  He was touching
her in places she hadn't been touched in a long while, and the fact that he
was doing so in front of the very people who's respect she one day hoped to
gain, was difficult and humiliating for Cynthia.  To her credit, however,
she did her very best to maintain eye contact with the man despite her ever
increasing inward focus.  She sincerely hoped that he would finish with her
soon, before she dissolved into that Jello-like state of near orgasm, and
thankfully he did.

   "To answer your question, Cynthia," Stan began as he removed his hand
from her coverall.  Then he paused and rubbed his thumb and fingers
together thoughtfully.  They were covered with clear vaginal mucous.  He
smiled at the look she gave him when she noticed what he was doing.  "We
have dispensed with the Standard Greeting here in the Wonder Wing, feeling
that we achieve far better results with our young ladies by not introducing
them to too much, too fast.  Take Miss Lumas, for example.  A week ago she
was totally inaccessible and rejected every attempt to get through to her.
In the old days, she would have been assigned a Principal and by simple
repetition she would have eventually become an active part of the
relationship.  We all know this to be true.  Take yourself for example,
Cynthia," Stan said with a smile.

   Cynthia blushed hotly, knowing the man was correct.  When she'd first
arrived at the Center about ten months ago, Cynthia had taken an average of
three lovers a day, every day.  At first she'd loathed the men in white who
forced themselves upon her, but slowly they'd helped her to become
reacquainted with her femininity.  It was almost like being introduced to
her own body for the first time.  One after another the men in white worked
with Cynthia until one day she was able to make the transition.  And now
here she was a TYTC Handler and hoping to assist another young person to
find herself.  It truly was a miraculous program.

   Turning to address the entire group now, Stan continued.  "In the Wonder
Wing we deal with young ladies ages eight to twelve.  Although the Center
has been working with females in this age group for many years, and quite
successfully I might add, using the standard method, recent studies suggest
that there may be a better way." Holding up a hand to ward off questions
for the moment, Stan went on.  "It is a well known fact that young ladies
in their formative years are very impressionable.  In fact it is her innate
curiosity and susceptibility to suggestion that has allowed society to
condition the young female to accept the myths regarding her roll in the
sexual relationship taboos that plague her on into adulthood." Murmurs of
agreement could be heard from the group.

   "There is no question that the standard method works, but let's use Miss
Lumas' progress as an example,"Stan suggested.  Under the standard method
our young lady would have been disrobed at her "Double I" on the first day
of her residence, probably forcibly." He eyed the assembly, and in
particular the female Handler.  "Under our new program, Miss Lumas allowed
me to remove her clothing with little to no opposition four days after
being placed in my care," Stan stated.  "Three days ago, Miss Lumas and I
kissed for the first time.  There is little doubt in my mind that our first
kiss was the first kiss of any consequence for Miss Lumas, and by that
afternoon she was beginning to experiment with her tongue.  What you
witnessed when you first arrived was our young lady following through after
actually initiating a session of light petting with me.  Two weeks and we
see an eleven year old initiating a sexual act with a partner who
previously was a total stranger.  I'd call that pretty good progress,"Stan
said proudly.  Heads nodded in agreement among the group of visiting
Handlers.

   "This afternoon Miss Lumas will observe her first video session on the
subject of fellatio.  This evening she and I will meet to discuss the new
material, and then she will be given the opportunity to practice what she's
learned over the next couple of days.  I fully expect that Miss Lumas will
be performing fellatio for me and perhaps others by the end of the week and
willingly, I might add."

   More murmurs erupted from the group, then someone spoke up.  "And when
exactly do you plan to have the girl deflowered?"

   "A good question," Stan responded.  "May I have your name please, sir."

   "Stephen," the visiting Handler answered.

   "A good question, Stephen," Stan repeated.  "Miss Lumas is being
conditioned to fulfill the needs of a specific individual, and this
individual has requested that her maidenhead be eliminated on his behalf,"
Stan explained.  "I plan to begin sleeping with Miss Lumas this evening,
and in a week or so we'll begin assigning different night partners for her
every few days.  As to exactly when Miss Lumas will be ushered into
womanhood, I cannot say for sure, but certainly it will be done within the
next few weeks."

   "So you're telling us that the young lady will not be deflowered for
nearly a month after her induction.  Don't you think that's an excessive
amount of time?" Stephen asked.

   "Not really when you consider that when the time comes for our young
lady to take a lover, she will do so freely, or the least with very little
protest," Stan immediately countered.  "Actually we have a defloration
session scheduled in about thirty minutes," Stan added.  The Handler then
offered, "For those of you who's schedules permit, I invite you to join us.
I think you'll find the experience refreshing and enlightening, and quite a
bit different from what you are accustomed to."

   The walls of the room were painted in cool pastel colors, and were
decorated with artwork similar to that found throughout the Wonder Wing. 
Rick, Andrew and the others were ushered to seats above and surrounding a
room much like the operating theater at a medical school.  Andrew was first
to note that practically the entire floor of the chamber was covered with
what appeared to be soft matting.  While the audience looked on, three TYTC
Handlers dressed in traditional garb entered the chamber from a side door
and took their places.  Lounging casually on the padded floor, the three
men chatted quietly among themselves as Stan began his narrative.

   "This, gentlemen, is our Encounter Chamber.  What you will be witnessing
this morning, is the defloration of Miss Courtney Anne Blackburn.  Courtney
is eleven years of age and is in her fifth week in residence with us. 
Courtney's Principal Handler's name is Pete.  Pete joined us about six
months ago, and came highly recommended in particular for his work with
young ladies in their formative years." Stan paused for a moment as all
eyes watched three lovely young creatures file into the room.  "What you
see below, gentlemen," Stan began in answer to the questioning looks he got
from the group.  "Are three of our Guests who will be participating in this
Group Encounter.  Their names are Wendy Fuller, age eight and a half, Susan
Landry, age ten and Polly Fisher.  Polly is twelve," Stan said reading from
a Palm Pilot.

   "But what...?" someone started to ask.

   "Allow me to explain," Stan interrupted.  "For years we've witnessed
females of all ages band together in order to confront challenges and deal
with unknown situations, and for years we've thought nothing of it," the
Handler explained in a soft voice as the three pretty young girls paired
off, each with one of the reclining Handlers.  "But, gentlemen, what we
failed to realize is that this sort of behavior is indicative of an
instinct so basic that we simply couldn't see the forest for the trees, so
to speak.  What we failed to recognize, gentlemen, is the Herding
Instinct."

   Stan noted the expressions on the faces of his colleagues.  Most
exhibited the beginnings of understanding, although there were still a
couple of confused looks among the crowd.

   "Think about it, gentlemen.  How often have you seen females band
together on unfamiliar turf?  A simple example is their need to accompany
each other into public restrooms.  Strength in numbers.  Security of the
herd," Stan explained, spreading his hands for effect.

   Rick Adams, of course, knew exactly what Stan was getting at, since it
was he who was responsible for developing a good percentage of the new
Wonder Wing Program.  So while the Handler in charge of the new facility
talked quietly in the background, Rick concentrated on what was happening
in the arena below.  Two of the three youngsters were already busily
attending to their partners.  One lovely little brunette had just finished
manually bringing her companion to full erection, and while Rick looked on
approvingly, the sweet child "probably Susan," Rick thought, because she
appeared to be between the other two girls in age swung a slender leg
across her reclining partner.  Straddling the man's hips, the youngster
then took his penis in her small hand.  Raising herself up onto her knees,
she guided him between her slender thighs, and with surprising
self-control, the pretty little girl lowered herself onto her lover.

   "Marvelous!" Rick murmured under his breath, while he watched the
precious child bow her shoulders forward and gaze into her lover's eyes as
she started to move on him.  The Handler quickly placed his big hands onto
her narrow hips in order to maintain control over her cadence and the
overall tempo of the engagement.

   The other two young ladies down on the floor were by now involving
themselves in one manner or another with their respective partners as well.
Polly, the older girl knelt in the classic Service Position and accepted
her lover from behind while Wendy, the youngest, lay atop her Handler,
their arms and legs entwined, enjoying each other orally.

   Just then the door to the encounter chamber opened, and all eyes turned
as an absolutely stunning blond girl entered, walking hand in hand with her
Handler.  At first she didn't seem to notice the other girls as she and her
Handler found a place on the padded floor, but once they were settled and
before her companion began to "get friendly" with her, she took a look
around.

   Wendy, the eight year old was using her mouth to please her partner at
the moment.  Courtney had tried that, and she didn't care for it too much,
but at least she'd done it, so now the others would quit pestering her
about it.  The other two girls, Polly and Susan, were both engaged in more
absorbing activities.  Courtney knew what they were doing.  She'd seen
videos and read magazines.  In addition, the man she'd come to know as Pete
had begun touching her lately in ways that she never would have dreamed of
allowing a grown man to do.

   At first his attentions were quite disturbing to Courtney, but beneath
the thin veneer of social correctness taught to her by her parents and
teachers, regarding how little girls should act around grownups, Courtney
Anne was secretly thrilled by the fact that an adult would take such a keen
interest in her.  Pete, treated her differently than any grownup she'd ever
known before.  He listened to her and seemed genuinely interested in what
she thought, and as long as she did everything he asked her to do, Pete was
very kind and gentle to her.  Courtney thought she might be falling in
love. About a week ago, Pete had started spending the night with her, and
Courtney now looked forward to falling asleep in his arms curled up against
his hairy chest; after they played around a little, of course.

   Naturally, Courtney missed her friends and family, and in the beginning
she'd cried herself to sleep almost every night.  After all, she'd been
abducted and spirited away from everything and everyone she knew.  One
minute she'd been walking home from school, and the next she was waking up
in this strange new place, alone and afraid.  What young girl wouldn't be
fearful.

   But Courtney soon discovered that she wasn't alone at all.  In fact
there were a number of girls her own age living with her in what she
learned was called the "Wonder Wing".  And all of them, except for maybe
one or two, were friendly and helpful.  Initially Courtney was terrified by
the fact that everyone was naked all the time with the exception of the men
in white, whom Courtney assumed were nurses or medical people of some sort.
The other girls didn't seem to mind being naked in front of the men in
white, which was more than a little puzzling to Courtney.  Her mother had
told her a long time ago that good little girls never, ever took their
clothes off in front of a man, and if anyone ever asked her to, that she
should call for help immediately.  So, when the day came that one of the
men in white asked Courtney to undress for him, she cried for help just
like she'd been taught.  As if on cue, two pretty young girls approximately
her own age entered the room, only instead of coming to her aid, the girls
smiled and then went about helping to disrobe Courtney, unbuttoning her
blouse and untying her shoes and the like.  Courtney was too stunned to put
up much of a fight, and in no time at all, she found herself as naked as
the day she was born, and all the while the man in white stood silently
nearby and watched.  Later when Courtney was shown to what would become her
bedroom, she lay upon the big double bed and cried her heart out.  Very
soon, however, the same two girls showed up to comfort her and to unravel
some of the mysteries of her new surroundings.

   Over the course of the next week or so the two girls, Susan and Polly,
would become Courtney's closest friends, listening to her concerns and
helping her to overcome her fears.  They explained to her that the men in
white were called Handlers, and that each girl or Guest as they were
called, was assigned a Principal Handler to be her teacher.

   "What kind of stuff are they teaching here?" Courtney had asked
dubiously.

   Susan and Polly told her that her Principal Handler would explain the
rules to her when the time was right, and also what would be expected of
her each day.  "In the mean time, though," the girl named Polly told her.
"You must learn to do whatever they ask you to do, no matter what."

   "But..." Courtney began.

   "Never argue with a Handler," Susan chimed in.  "Just do what they ask
and don't worry.  They won't hurt you.  In fact," Susan giggled
mischievously.  "Some of the stuff they do is kinda cool."

   Indeed, Miss Courtney Anne Blackburn would be introduced to mysteries
and delights that most young ladies wouldn't learn about until much later
in life.  Although it took Courtney awhile to get used to being in the
company of so many adult men, her friends, Polly and Susan were correct
about the fact that not one of the men in white ever hurt her.  Some of the
things they asked her to do were a little frightening at first, but for the
most part the Handlers were exceptionally patient, allowing Courtney the
time she needed to wrestle with her inhibitions and pre-conceptions of what
was right and what was wrong.  In the end, however, she was expected to
cooperate.  Courtney read books and watched videos dealing with subject
matter that was shocking in the beginning, but later when her Principal
Handler, Pete explained things to her in more detail, and then gave her the
opportunity to experience those things about which she'd read first hand,
the pretty blond girl began to respond more favorably to the program.

   Courtney still had some difficulty with the bathroom routines, but then,
most Guests did.  Having a grown man present during her toiletry and then
having him clean her up after she went to the bathroom was extremely
humiliating, but the hardest part of all was having to look her attendant
in the eye while he did so.  Polly confided in Courtney that she'd had
trouble with that part too, but that eventually she'd gotten used to it,
and that Courtney would too.  Courtney had to admit that a week ago, she
never would have dreamed of letting a man put his "thingy" into her mouth,
and now that practice was becoming a part of her daily routine.  Gradually
the youngster acclimated to her extraordinary new lifestyle, and each day
she became more comfortable with her surroundings and her new friends.

   Courtney's daydream was interrupted when her older partner placed his
big hand onto her shoulder and pulled her down beside himself on the padded
floor.  She required no prompting when he pulled her closer, and Courtney
wrapped her slender arms around his neck and pressed her supple body
against his.

   "Pete appears to be making tremendous progress with Miss Blackburn,"
Rick Adams commented to no one in particular as on the floor below the man
in white hugged the naked little beauty close and kissed her lovingly. 
"Ah, that's very nice," Rick muttered when the pretty little blond
responded by bending her knee and moving one slender leg up over her
Handler's thigh.  The big man slid a hand down the girl's back and all but
covered her pretty little rear end with his big paw.  At the same time, he
moved his left leg between her thighs, pushing his knee up into her crotch.
Even from several feet above, Rick noticed the girl's hips move forward
quickly as she pressed herself against her lover's thigh.  Rick assumed
from the position of Pete's hand that the Handler had just pushed his
middle finger up into the Blackburn girl's anal passage, and to her credit
she hadn't uttered a sound.

   For several minutes, the audience of TYTC Handlers seated in the viewing
theater watched the proceedings on the floor below.  The two older girls,
Susan and Polly, were both fully involved with their respective partners.
Polly had switched to the venerable Missionary Position.  Her little arms
were wrapped around her Handler's neck as his big body moved steadily up
and down on top of her.  She'd raised her knees up and locked her ankles
around the backs of his thighs in an effort to better align herself and to
accept him more completely, and even from a distance her lovely face glowed
as she gazed up into her lover's eyes.

   Susan and her lover, had shifted to the Service Position.  "Arch your
back, please, Miss Landry," the little girl's Handler was heard to say as
he pressed two finger tips to the small of her back.  "Head up, now.  You
know the drill," he instructed calmly.  His big hands encircled the little
girl's narrow waist as he pulled her back onto his considerable manhood. 
The big man's fingertips practically touched over her tummy which bulged
outward from his presence inside of her.  "Be still, Miss Landry," the
Handler corrected her firmly but without the slightest trace of malice,
when the pretty brunette groaned softly.

   "The Landry girl is doing much better today, Stan," Rick commented
casually to the head of the wing.

   "Yeah," Stan answered, his pride was obvious.  "Susan has been very
cooperative lately.  In fact she's become a model Guest, and is very
helpful with the other girls, especially the newcomers," the man explained
to his colleague.  "Miss Landry tries very hard to please her lovers,
however, she is a small child, even for a ten year old.  We increased her
dosage of Thelazine three days ago in hopes that it might help to stimulate
her natural lubrication system and allow her to be more receptive. 
Thankfully, it appears to be working," Stan explained.

   While the audience looked on, a visible shudder passed through the
pretty little brunette as her Handler administered a series of "taps" to
her internal reproductive anatomy.

   "Taps" are short, concise thrusts, intended to apply intermittent
pressure directly to the cervix, and are often used by a Handler during a
girl's early training in order to increase her carrying capacity.  "Taps"
differ from "Jabs" in that they are considered to be a constructive
procedure rather than a corrective one.  There was no mistaking the fact
that the Landry girl was "bottomed out" or "fully involved", as the
condition is known when a female's vagina can accept no more from a lover.
Even from above, a good four inches of her lover's shaft was visible,
protruding from between her nicely rounded buttocks.

   Pete whispered something to Courtney, causing her to turn and look in
Susan's direction.  Courtney nodded her understanding as Pete leaned close
and whispered further instructions into her ear.  Moments later, the lovely
blond rolled over and got slowly to her hands and knees facing Susan and
her lover.

   "Here we go, gentlemen," Stan said, giving his audience a "heads up". 
"Pay close attention now, because I doubt that you will ever again witness
a smoother and more efficient defloration."

   On the floor below, Pete helped his young charge to get into the correct
position.  After instructing her to separate her knees to approximately
shoulder width, the man in white encouraged the girl to arch her back by
indicating the position of her young friend, Susan.  Then with a gentle
touch he directed the Blackburn child to lock her elbows, and with three
fingers beneath her chin, he raised her head up high.  Actually, his
actions resembled those of a trainer arranging a champion show dog for
judging.  Once he was satisfied, Pete whispered instructions to the pretty
little blond, no doubt ordering her to keep her eyes to the front where her
good friend was providing some beneficial distraction.  Then from the
specialized kit attached to the back of his uniform coveralls, the Handler
withdrew a slender silver device.

   "What you see in Pete's hand, gentlemen, is the latest instrument to
come out of our Research and Development Department.  We call it simply the
Defloration Tool, or "DefT" for short," Stan explained to the audience.  As
they looked on, Pete held the shining, stainless steel device up and made
an adjustment to it.  "The DefT is designed primarily for use with young
ladies of approximately the same age as the girls you see before you,
however, there is absolutely no reason why it should not be effective on
females of any age," Stan narrated while everyone watched the proceedings
on the arena floor below.

   As if on cue, Pete placed a hand onto the youngster's pert little
derriere, and using his thumb and fingers, he gently spread her open.

   "The entire procedure takes only seconds, and is virtually painless,"
Stan spoke almost reverently as the man in white below leaned over and
carefully maneuvered the fine tapered tip of the instrument into position.
"Mechanical defloration has proven to be far more effective when dealing
with pre-teens than the customary approach for two main reasons," Stan went
on softly while the audience watched the proceedings below.  "First, at her
tender age, it is doubtful that the loss of her virginity to a male would
hold any real emotional significance for Miss Blackburn as it would for a
more mature subject.  And secondly, pain is taken quite seriously by
youngsters in their formative years, and we do not wish for her to
associate her training program with pain," Stan explained.  "In general,
our young ladies are far more impressionable and malleable than the more
mature Guests.  As a result, we employ methods which are a bit less severe
than what most of you are used to, and still we come away with impressive
results.

   Pete had used the DefT only once before, but there was really nothing to
it.  He leaned closer so that he had an unobstructed view of the moist pink
tissues exposed between his finger tips.  Like most youngsters her age,
Miss Blackburn's inner labia were tiny and delicate, and between these two
rose petal-like folds, her diminutive vaginal portal winked at Pete as she
intermittently dilated and contracted.  He moved the tip of the DefT
closer. "Hold still, Miss Blackburn, and look straight ahead, please," he
cautioned the little blond when she stirred unexpectedly, causing him to
withdraw the device so as not to accidentally touch her with it before he
was ready.

   Being the professional that he was, and having had considerable
experience with young ladies in their formative years, Pete had a few
tricks of his own.  After first getting a little bit better purchase on the
girl's labia majora with his fingers, the Handler spread her open again. 
Next he leaned close and blew a little puff of air against the girl's moist
intimate tissues, causing her tiny aperture to close abruptly.  As soon as
Pete stopped blowing against her, the youngster immediately began to
dilate. Now he was in control.  Moving the slender tip of the DefT to
within a few centimeters of her opening, Pete gave the girl another puff,
and this time as the aperture in the shining pink membrane slowly expanded,
the Handler carefully inserted the tip of the DefT.  He was in.

   The DefT was a simple but elegant instrument.  Measuring approximately
ten inches in length, the device tapered from three quarters of an inch in
diameter at its handle to a fine rounded tip about two inches long and
approximately an eighth of an inch in diameter.  Housed inside of the
stainless steel handle was a small pressurized cylinder containing a
quantity of fast acting topical anesthetic, and next to this cylinder was a
second container of a specialized styptic solution.  Forward of the
pressurized reservoirs were the actuator springs that operated six small
"expansion arms" which when triggered would snap outward around the
circumference of the tip of the instrument, instantly increasing its
diameter from just a fraction of an inch to as much as one and a half
inches, depending upon how the device was set.  It's fairly obvious the
effect this rapid increase in diameter would have on the virginal opening
in the hymen of a young female.  What makes this instrument so unique,
though, is that when the firing mechanism is triggered, and just prior to
the release of the actuator springs, a mist of highly effective topical
anesthetic is administered directly to the targeted membrane of the subject
through tiny jets located in the tip of the device.  Hence, when the
expansion arms are released, instantly tearing the maidenhead membrane
asunder, the subject experiences no pain or discomfort what-so-ever. 
Furthermore, once they've performed their design function, the expansion
arms immediately retract, and the device then delivers an internal misting
spray of the astringent solution which effectively squelches any and all
bleeding.  Additionally, this same solution contains an antiseptic agent to
prevent infection.

   From the floor below came the sound of a soft "snick".  Only a trained
and very observant eye would have detected the ever so slight flinch on the
part of the pretty little blond girl as her childhood was abruptly ended.

   "That's it, gentlemen," Stan said in a conversational tone of voice. 
"Miss Blackburn's hymen has been fully compromised." While Stan addressed
the audience, the little girl's Handler replaced the shining instrument
into his kit, and directed her to rise up and kneel in front of him.  He
then embraced her and the two of them began to kiss.  It's probable that
the youngster never knew that her anatomy had been fundamentally altered,
preparing her for the responsibilities of womanhood.

   "That was an exceptional demonstration, Stan," Rick Adams complimented
the head of the Wonder Wing.  "Thank you ever so much for taking the time
to share that remarkable experience with the rest of us."

   "You're quite welcome, of course," Rick," Stan answered.  "Needless to
say, we at the Wonder Wing are quire proud of the progress we've been
making with our Guests.  If any of you would care to be included, Miss
Blackburn will probably be entertaining a lover in a day or two.  I'd be
happy to notify anyone who might be interested in participating," Stan
added.

   "I'd like to attend," the female Handler piped up, raising her hand.

   "Very well, Cynthia," Stan responded with an odd smile.  "Your
assistance might very well prove to be valuable." It was the best
compliment he could give the woman.  Stan was definitely from the "old
school".

   Handshakes were exchanged all around, and after only a cursory glance at
the goings on down in the Encounter Chamber, the group of visiting Handlers
departed.  Stan stood for a moment listening to the voices of his
colleagues fade away down the hallway and reflected on the morning's
events. He felt that the visiting representative members of the TYTC staff
had been suitably impressed by his demonstration and sincerely hoped that
the new Wonder Wing would soon be accepted and embraced by all.

   That's it for now...  SM

   Wonder Wing - Chapter Two - by - The StoryMaster

   "Antonia," the Head of the Wonder Wing whispered over the slumbering
child.  Stan leaned closer then and inhaled a deep draft of the
intoxicating aroma of sleepy little girl.  Her warm and innocent fragrance
triggered memories unvisited for many years.  In fact, in this light the
sleeping Miss Lumas reminded Stan a little bit of his younger sister,
Hannah and the way she'd looked during their childhood years.

   Sitting on the edge of the bed and gazing down at the enticing shape of
the small body beneath the thin sheet, Stan found himself teetering on the
edge of past and present.  Placing his hand onto the little brunette's
shoulder, he felt her tenderness and warmth through the soft fabric.

   Stan felt blissfully happy.  After all, his dreams had finally become a
reality.  Stan had been with the Center for many years, and had worked with
more young women than he could count.  He'd demonstrated his abilities over
the years and was considered to be an effective and efficient Handler,
earning him the respect and admiration of his colleagues.  Only in the last
year or so did Stan recognize that his true interests and passions lay in
the area of the enlightenment and enrichment of young ladies in their
formative years.  So when Stan first got wind of the Center's plans for a
new department devoted exclusively to younger Guests, he immediately took
steps to align himself accordingly.  As fortune would have it, Rick Adams,
the new Headmaster of the Center, couldn't have been more pleased when a
tenured Handler like Stan stepped forward and expressed an interest in what
would prove to be a bold new approach to a centuries old dilemma.

   "Antonia," he whispered once again and gave the sleeping child a gentle
shake.  She stirred and made a splendid little purring sound as she
stretched kitten-like beneath the sheets.  She was sleeping on her tummy,
and as Stan slid his hand softly down her little body, he pulled the top
sheet along with it, exposing the flawless skin of her back and shoulders.
Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her delicate skin and kissed her
tenderly between her shoulder blades.  Next Stan nuzzled his face into the
fragrant shock of luxurious, dark hair which cascaded over her left
shoulder and murmured, "Wake up, sleepyhead," near her shell-like left ear.
He kissed the little girl softly on the side of the neck.  Her skin was so
warm beneath his lips, reminding Stan just how much he enjoyed the company
of young ladies in their more impressionable years.

   Meanwhile, he tugged the sheets free of her immaculate little rear end
as he continued to sprinkle soft kisses about her neck and shoulders.  "I
have a special surprise for you tonight, Antonia, sweetheart," Stan
murmured affectionately as he began to massage her little fanny.  If he
spread his fingers, he could almost cover one of her shapely buttocks with
his hand.  Her flesh was firm and resilient and as always, exceptionally
warm.  "Don't you want your surprise, baby girl?" Stan whispered, nibbling
her cheek and temple with his lips then nuzzling his face into her hair
again.

   "Mm..mmm," the gorgeous little brunette whimpered softly.  After all, it
was almost eightthirty in the evening, and she'd had a busy day.  Following
her evening meal, Antonia had been given a mild tranquilizer to help take
the edge off.  She'd been exceptionally cooperative up to this point, but
taking a night partner would be a big step for the lovely eleven year old.

   "Now that's not very friendly," Stan scolded playfully as he slipped a
hand under her left shoulder.  "Is that any way for my special girl to
behave?" he added as he slowly rolled the child toward him.  Whining softly
in protest, her huge brown eyes fluttered open and she gazed up at him with
a muzzily as he placed his hand onto her cheek.

   Stan caught his breath.  "God, She's so beautiful!" he thought to
himself as he rubbed his thumb carefully over her slightly parted lips.  He
was very pleased when she accepted his touch without complaint, for Stan
knew from his many years of experience that pre-pubescent girls considered
their mouths to be sacred temples.  Later she would shift her focus to
other areas of her anatomy, but for now Stan would concentrate his
attentions on her mouth.

   For several minutes Stan gently caressed the stunning little beauty's
lips with his fingertips while she gazed up at him questioningly.  Her
facial expression was a precious mixture of mild concern and uncertainty.
"You're very pretty, Antonia," Stan whispered affectionately as he used the
very tip of his index finger to trace the perimeter of her mouth.  Her full
pink lips were incredibly soft beneath his delicate touch.  She seemed to
have resigned herself to his attentions when unexpectedly Stan slid his
fingertip across the smooth wet surface of her sparkling teeth.  Abruptly
the little beauty's expression darkened, registering her surprise, and then
her gaze became quite troubled when Stan slipped his index finger into her
mouth.  "Shh..shh..shh," the professional man whispered.

   "Mmm..mmmm," the stunning brunette whimpered as her lips reflexively
closed around his invading digit.  Her hands flew to the wrist of the
offending hand, and her dark eyes became deep pools of worry.  "Mmohh," the
little girl moaned when Stan found her tongue and began to toy with it with
is fingertip.  She tugged at his hand ineffectually, and tried to turn her
head away, because for all intents and purposes, Stan had invaded her
privacy and intimacy as surely as though he'd entered the girl vaginally,
perhaps even more so.  Happily she didn't bite him as Stan easily
overpowered her efforts to resist him.

   "Take your hands away, please, Miss Lumas," Stan said after a couple of
seconds.  He used her formal name and employed a small amount of command
intonation in his voice in order to get the girl's attention, but not
enough to frighten her.  "Close your lips around my finger, please,
Antonia," the Handler asked her as he stared into her troubled eyes. 
"Relax, darling," Stan then added and stroked her cheek gently with his
other hand.  "You know, Stan wouldn't do anything to hurt his specil girl,
don't you, Antonia, sweetheart?" he murmured with a confident smile.  He
felt her little tongue shift against the tip of his finger.  "Don't you,
Antonia?" he repeated.

   A couple of seconds passed, and then slowly the immaculate little girl
nodded her head tentatively.  Her expression was priceless as she pursed
her lips around his finger.

   "That's my girl," the Handler beamed a winning smile.  "We're going to
teach you how to use that pretty little mouth of yours, darling," the
Handler assured his young charge and continued to stroke her cheek with his
free hand.  "Now, Antonia, I want you to suck on my finger for a minute. 
Will you do that for me, please, sweetheart?" he instructed the little girl
as he gazed into her questioning eyes.

   "Mm...  mm..hmm," she responded unbidden and nodded her head again.

   Stan fell in love with the little beauty all over again, and as he began
to move his finger slowly in and out of her mouth, he felt her start to
suck, tentatively at first, and then with increasingly more confidence. 
After a very few minutes, Stan was convinced that the little brunette had
real potential, and he looked forward to helping her to refine that talent
in the days and weeks to come.

   "That's nice, darling.  That's very nice," Stan whispered as he
reluctantly plucked his finger from between her pink lips.  Then in
response to her mildly disappointed expression he said simply, "Kiss me,
Antonia." And before she could argue, Stan covered her sweet mouth with
his.

   This wasn't their first kiss.  In fact, Stan had begun kissing Antonia
the day before, but in spite of her previous experience, it took several
seconds for the little brunette to relax and participate.  Stan kept his
mouth firmly planted over hers while he shifted his position on the bed. 
Stretching out beside the little girl, Stan reveled at the feel of her
small body beneath his as he rolled his torso on top of her, all the while
kissing her passionately.  Her mouth was all his, as he delved with his
tongue into every corner of that tasty and unsullied citadel of her youth.

   After a few sizzling minutes, Stan rose up and gazed lovingly at the
sweet child beside him.  Her face was flushed, and her expression reflected
both inquisitiveness and wonderment, but not fear.  In fact, she even
smiled shyly when her Handler gave her a couple of playful pecks on the
lips.

   Then with a winning smile of his own, Stan asked softly, "Did you watch
the movie like I asked you to, Antonia?" Her expression darken a little,
and she furrowed her brow, but she kept her eyes on his.  Stan watched the
lovely brunette closely as she blushed hotly.

   It was a good sign, for a blush meant that she was bashful about the
material she'd viewed but not fearful.  Obviously she'd had mixed emotions
about it, which is exactly what Stan had hoped when he'd put together the
CD, dealing primarily with fellatio.  In fact, it was entirely possible
that the Lumas girl had already had some experience with oral sex. 
Now-a-days a lot of young ladies dabbled in oral sex at an astonishingly
tender age.

   "Well?" Stan prompted after a moment's silence from the girl.

   "I..  I.." she stammered retiringly then averted her gaze.

   "Look at me, Antonia," Stan reminded the little beauty.

   "What did you think about what the boys and girls were doing in the
movie, Antonia?" her Handler inquired as she stared up at him with big
puppy dog eyes.  "Have you ever done anything like that, Antonia?  Perhaps
with a boyfriend?" Stan asked her point blank.

   Her expression was exquisite.  "Why no!" she answered, surprised and
slightly indignant.  Then she looked away.

   Stan believed her, for according to her file, Miss Antonia Lumas came
from considerable wealth.  She'd attended private schools and in general
associated only with children from her own economic bracket.  Her breeding
didn't necessarily rule out the possibility of prior sexual experience,
however, which is what prompted Stan to ask the question, but from the
beginning, he believed it highly unlikely.  Antonia was a "good girl".

   Placing his hand to her cheek, Stan turned her face back to his.  Gazing
into her dark, somewhat troubled eyes he then kissed the gorgeous little
girl Once...  twice...  then a third time.  Her eyes fluttered closed after
the second kiss then opened again when the Handler began to stroke her
cheek again.

   "It's called fellatio, Antonia," Stan explained.  "And it's a perfectly
natural thing to do." Her expression was more or less neutral as she gazed
up at him, so Stan continued.  "Young ladies have been performing fellatio
for their partners since the very beginning, and it's something every young
lady must learn to do correctly."

   "But," the little brunette began, her brow furrowed with concern.

   "Shhhh," Stan whispered, placing a finger to her lips.  "Tell me,
Antonia," the Handler continued.  "When do you think you might like to
learn about fellatio?"

   Instantly her mood darkened.  In fact he could feel her small body
stiffen beside him, and her lovely face became a portrait of dismay. 
"Noooo," she whined pitifully.  "I don't wanna.  Please don't make me do
that, pleasssse," she pleaded so very woefully that it actually tugged at
Stan's heart strings.  She was becoming more agitated by the second, and
started to in a futile effort to extricate herself from their intimate
position.

   The fact that she was lying naked in a bed next to a grown man whom
she'd met less than three weeks ago, should have been enough to utterly
terrify Antonia.  Grownups simply weren't supposed to treat little girls
the way this man treated her.  Everything her parents had taught her told
Antonia that she should run from this man, but something about the way he
spoke and the way he touched her had a mysterious calming effect on the
little brunette.  A month ago, if one of her friends had told her that she
would soon find herself in bed and in the arms of a man three times her
age, Antonia would have laughed out loud and told them they were out of
their minds.  Yet somehow over the course of the past two weeks, this
strange man along with his associates had managed to allay most of her
misgivings about her abduction, and then unbelievably, they'd gained her
trust.  Antonia still couldn't fathom how they'd done it, but the proof was
in the pudding, as they say.  For over a week, she'd been more or less
content to live among these men, something she never would have dreamed of
doing in her past life.  Then two days ago, she'd actually allowed this
man, Stan to kiss her on the lips even!

   But now he was going too far.  What he was suggesting was more than she
could accept, and suddenly all of Antonia's pent up dread began to bubble
to the surface.  Then his hands were on her, stroking her face and her
hair, and his lips whispered next to her ear.

   "Shh..shh..shh...  Easy, Antonia, darling.  We'll just forget about that
for awhile," Stan murmured reassuringly.  Then when she looked up at him,
he kissed her softly.  "Relax, sweetheart," he whispered, his lips
practically touching hers.  Stan gazed into the little girl's deep dark
eyes and pecked at her lips once or twice.  Then he smiled warmly.  He felt
her begin to relax beside him, and knew that once again he'd managed to
dodge a crises.  The tranquillizer she'd been given helped, of course, but
it was Stan's adroitness in dealing with young girls in general that truly
saved the day.  He had a gift, that much was certain, and in a very few
minutes he had the Lumas girl practically purring like a kitten.  Tomorrow
he would enlist the help of a couple of the other Guests, and before the
end of the day, he would undoubtedly have his way with Antonia.  But for
now it was bed time.

   "Oh my goodness, look at the time," Stan exclaimed feigning surprise. 
Rolling off the little brunette, he sat on the edge of the bed with his
back to her.  "Time for bed, sweetheart," he said with a feigned yawn.  "Do
you need to go to the bathroom?"

   "Uh huh," she answered, nodding her pretty head.

   "Well run along then," Stan said to her.  The sight of her nakedness
never ceased to thrill him as he watched the stunning little girl pad off
down the hallway toward the bath facility.  In a few days, Handlers would
begin to assist Antonia with her toiletries, but for now she would be
afforded this small modicum of privacy.  "One thing at a time," Stan
thought to himself.

   "Well?  What're you waiting for?  Climb on in here.  It's late and we
have a lot to do in the morning," Stan spoke casually as he held the top
sheet up for the girl.

   Antonia was too surprised to speak, and stood staring dumbly at the man
in her bed.  She could plainly see that he was naked when he raised the
sheet, and she had no idea what to do.

   "But...what're you...?" she let her question trail away as she gazed
upon Stan's nakedness.

   "Come to bed, Antonia," he said after a moment and held his hand out to
her.

   "But..." the little girl started to question him before he interrupted
her.

   "I won't bite," Stan said with a chuckle, amused by her timidity.  She
was so beautiful when she was surprised or confused.  "I guess I forgot to
mention that you and I are going to be sleeping together from time to
time," the Handler informed the shocked little girl.  "Don't worry,
Antonia. You'll get used to it, and I don't snore.  I promise," he assured
her with a warm smile.

   Never in her wildest dreams would Antonia have imagined that she would
be sleeping naked with a man who was old enough to be her father, but here
she was.  His big forearm lay over her, hugging her small body against his,
while behind her he breathed softy into her hair.  Stan had fallen asleep
almost instantly after the two of them kissed goodnight for nearly thirty
minutes, but Antonia was having a more difficult time of it.  Never having
shared her bed with anyone before, it felt really strange to have a warm,
hairy body pressed against her back.  Eventually, however, she drifted off
to sleep, and although Antonia didn't realize it at the time, she took
another huge step forward in her training that very evening.

   Her right leg jerked reflexively when his fingertip brushed over her
tiny undeveloped clitoris, and then she closed her thighs together tightly,
trapping his hand between her legs.  She groaned softly and squirmed a bit,
but after a moment or two she continued to slumber peacefully next him in
the big bed.  Stan kept his hand perfectly still for a full minute, then as
he'd done earlier, the Handler slowly lifted the little girl's left leg,
carefully spreading her open again.  He'd been touching the little beauty
here and there for the last fifteen minutes or so, and so far she'd
accepted his caresses with practically no adverse reaction.  Stan would
continue to touch her until she awakened.

   It was all part of the new method.  Every day, Antonia would be awakened
in this manner, until a man's touch became second nature to her.  In the
beginning, many of his colleagues doubted the effectiveness of this more
liberal approach to female orientation, believing that it lacked many
essential points of discipline.  Stan felt differently, however.  Because
of his considerable experience with young ladies in their formative years,
he believed quite strongly that steady coercion mixed with guided and
supervised peer pressure was the better way to deal with these more
impressionable Guests.

   If Stan so chose, he could take the enchanting little brunette.  If he
wanted to, he could simply roll on top of her, take her virginity and then
proceed to make systematic love to her repeatedly until she began to
participate.  There was little doubt that indeed the youngster, like every
female no matter her age, would eventually become an active participant in
the relationship.  "But at what cost?" Stan thought as he continued to waft
his finger slowly over labia minora as delicate as flower petals.

   Parting her pink lips and exposing her shining white teeth, the little
brunette moaned softly and shifted her hips.  Stan altered his method,
adopting a linear pattern of manual stimulation such that his middle finger
traveled from her clitoral hood down to her vaginal portal and back in a
slow sawing motion.

   The youngster was very close to regaining consciousness, and it was
crucial that she recognize the fact that he was touching her immediately
upon awakening.  Cupping the girl with three fingers, Stan used a modified
version of the TYTC Standard Greeting.  With his index and ring finger he
began to palpate the labia majora, while with his first finger he continued
to stimulate the labia minora, and vaginal area.  Leaning over her, Stan
kissed her lightly on the lips, and then with his lips still brushing
against hers, he whispered, "Wake up, Antonia."

   The intoxicating scent of sleepy little girl wafted over Stan as he
kissed Antonia a second time.  This time he used the tip of his tongue to
tickle across the smooth surface of her sparkling teeth.  Being a true
professional, Stan monitored the girl's face and eyes closely such that
when her eyelids did begin to quiver, he was prepared.  When Antonia's deep
brown eyes fluttered open at last, the face of her Handler was the first
thing she saw.

   "Good morning, my dear," Stan murmured and kissed her lightly on the
lips.  It took only two seconds by his count for Antonia to acknowledge his
hand on her, for the signs were unmistakable.  Stan watched her big brown
eyes grow larger, if that were possible, and her expression darkened ever
so slightly as his fingers danced over her intimate petals.  This was the
first time he'd touched the girl, so Stan remained alert to the possibility
that she might balk at any second.  "Did you sleep well, Antonia?" he asked
casually, making no reference to his probing fingers.

   The pretty little brunette stared at him blankly for several seconds,
wrestling with her emotions and inhibitions, before she nodded her head in
response to her Handler's direct question.  "Uh huh," she answered
absently, and it was obvious that her attention was focused elsewhere.

   "That's good," Stan said cheerfully as he went back to swirling his
middle finger over her budding little clitoris.  "We'll be sleeping
together, you and I, from now on, unless I have other duties.  In which
case we'll find someone else to keep you company, Antonia." Stan watched
her facial expression as she processed this information.  One would think
that this news would have come as more of a shock to the enchanting child,
but Stan recognized the subtle effects of the miracle drug, Thelazine.  Her
gaze was ever so slightly unfocused, and she was obviously having
difficulty concentrating on anything other than his manual attentions. 
Additionally, the youngster was beginning to selflubricate which is a
definite result of the marvelous medication.  Not expecting an answer, Stan
stared into her dark eyes so filled with curiosity and apprehension and
said simply, "Kiss me, Antonia." And for the next thirty minutes he and the
lovely young brunette explored each other's mouths.  Stan, of course, did a
little additional exploration as well.

   As always, time flies when you're having fun, and it seemed like only
five minutes had passed when Stan heard the morning chime sound in the
common room.  It was time to begin the day.  He'd made a lot of progress
with Antonia this morning, in fact he was pretty sure she'd come very close
to achieving orgasm.  For the last ten minutes or so, the Handler had
concentrated on her clitoris, and managed to elicit several violent
shudders out of the sweet child.  He'd even had to caution her to remain
silent a couple of times when her growing ardor caused her to forget her
place.

   "Time to get up, Antonia, sweetheart," Stan whispered to the lovely girl
between soft pecks on the lips.  "We'll come back to this tonight, because
I think my little girl likes it when I touch her down there," Stan added
with a smile.  Antonia blushed hotly.  "OK, here we go," the Handler said
as he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.  Beside him, the
little brunette crawled out of bed and padded off in the direction of the
bathroom.  "Hang on a moment, please, my dear," Stan called after her. 
Stopping, she turned and looked back at him.  "Come back over here, please,
Antonia, I almost forgot something," the Handler said as he removed a tube
of K-Y jelly from a drawer in the bed stand and laid it on the bed beside
him.  She looked a little apprehensive, but Antonia did as she was told and
returned to the side of her bed.  "She really does have an exquisite little
body," Stan commented to himself as he watched the girl approach.  Taking
Antonia by her shoulders, Stan turned her, telling her to face the doorway.
"Spread your feet apart a little, please," he instructed then dropped his
big hands to her hips and began to massage her, kneading the supple flesh
of her buttocks and inner thighs.  "We're going to start you on a new
program this morning, my dear," the Handler informed the girl as he applied
a healthy dollop of K-Y jelly to the middle finger of his left hand.  Then
using his right hand mostly, he went back to rubbing her again.

   Antonia never suspected a thing until it was too late.  One moment the
man was rubbing her butt, and in the next second, with absolutely no
warning what-so-ever he did something totally unexpected.  Antonia's first
indication that something was up was just that Stan's middle finger
traveling UP her anal passage.

   A surprised squeal echoed down the hallway leading from the dormitory of
the Wonder Wing as Stan extended his long middle finger farther into the
trembling child.  "Sssstoppp!" the little brunette cried pitifully, but to
no avail.

   Antonia's reward, in fact, was a rather stern warning from the big man
to stand still and be silent.  Never before had she experienced anything
like what this man was doing to her.  It didn't hurt really, although it
made her extremely uncomfortable, causing her to feel like she needed to
use the toilet right away.  The worst part, though, was the indignation and
humiliation that welled up in Antonia as the man went about probing deeply
into her behind with his long finger.  Having a stranger do this to her was
almost more than she could bear, and it made her tummy hurt a little too. A
rather unladylike grunt escaped Antonia's lips as Stan began to twist his
finger inside of her while he held her in place with a hand on her hip.

   "Be still, Miss Lumas," the Handler said in a tone of voice which
brooked no argument.  He felt her clutch his finger with surprising
strength.  "Relax your muscles, Miss Lumas," Stan instructed his young
charge.  "Don't fight me, please."

   "B..b..but it hurrrrtsss," the lovely brunette moaned pitifully and
tried to squirm away from Stan.  Anticipating her response to his
attentions, Stan moved with Antonia.  When she turned or twisted he simply
followed her with his hand, and each time he detected a slight reduction in
sphincter tension, he pushed in a little deeper with his probing digit. 
"Ohhhh," the lovely youngster groaned pathetically.

   "Silence, please, Miss Lumas," Stan said sternly.  "Guests shall remain
silent while being attended to," the Handler quoted one of the TYTC
Non-negotiable Standards.  Granted, the more liberal program of
conditioning practiced in The Wonder Wing allowed for some latitude in
Guest behavior, but eventually, every female must come to know her true
place in the grand scheme of things.

   "But..." Antonia started to object.  She was very confused by the man's
unexpected change of character.  He'd been so nice to her just a minute
ago. "Why is he being so mean?" Antonia wondered.

   "Antonia, when I give you an order, I expect for you to follow it." He
spoke a bit softer now for Stan didn't want to frighten the girl.  He did,
however, wish to impress upon the pretty little brunette, the need for her
to obey him.

   Stan, like every Handler in the employ of The Youth Training Center,
knew that for each and every difficulty, pertaining to the female of our
species, there could be found a sexual solution.  Stan reflected on the
remarkable effectiveness of the principle of Continuous Anal Presence, or
C.A.P.  for short while he waited for the child to make up her mind to
cooperate.  He had all day, and neither he nor she was going anywhere.

   [Author's Note: A great deal of information and history is written about
the Continuous Anal Presence Program and C.A.P.  Devices in previous
chapters of The Youth Training Center saga.  The CAP principle plays a
major role in the conditioning program of every Guest of the Center.  - SM]

   "That's my girl," Stan murmured warmly when he felt her start to relax
her grip on his finger.  Pressing the palm of his hand upward and firmly
against the youngster's soft little bottom, Stan reached around her small
body and spread his free hand out over her slightly distended tummy.  She
was probably cramping a little , and the experienced Handler massaged her
belly just above her pubic arch for a few moments to help her anatomy to
adjust.  "Is that better, Antonia?" Stan asked with genuine concern as he
gazed up at her face from around her hip.

   The exquisite little brunette refused to look at him.  "She's mad at
me," Stan thought to himself and smiled at the little pout on her pretty
face.  Stan turned her a little, but still she looked away.  He could have
ordered the girl to look at him as was prescribed by the Sixth
Non-Negotiable Standard, but Stan chose not to, feeling a softer approach
was more effective.  Purposely holding his finger very still, for in the
end, he wanted Antonia to become accustomed to anal presence as being a
natural part of her body, Stan tried to reason with the sweet eleven year
old.  "I am here to teach you, Antonia.  So you must trust me and pay close
attention to everything I tell you to do.  Do you understand me?" Stan
asked the perturbed eleven year old.  "Do you understand, Antonia?" Stan
asked a second time.

   After a long hesitation at last the lovely child looked down at him. 
Her expression was troubled, but she nodded her head, murmuring demurely,
"Well...  yeah, I guess, but," and she shifted her narrow hips.

   "But what, Antonia?" Stan asked softly.  The little girl began to squirm
in his hands.  She's so very precious," Stan thought to himself and smiled
when she furrowed her brow in thought.

   "I..  I'm not.  I..  m..mean we're not.  Y..you're not supposed to... 
supposed to...  y..  you know." Antonia blushed hotly and fell silent, but
inside she clamped down hard on the Handler's impaling digit.

   "We're not supposed to do what, Antonia?" Stan prompted as he twisted
his finger slightly within the clutching confines of the sweet child.

   "Th...  this kinda stuff.  Y..  You know, n..naked stuff." She shifted
her hips slightly and shivered.  The Handler gave her a questioning look,
as though he didn't understand what she was driving at.  "I..  I m..mean
y..you're a grownup, a..and I'm j..just a k..kid," she explained haltingly.


   "I see," Stan said then fell silent, studying the youngster
thoughtfully. "Then I guess your friends, Polly and Susan must be
mistaken," he added after a moment, baiting her.

   "H..huh?" the little girl asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

   "Well, Antonia, that's very odd indeed," Stan began and pressed his hand
firmly up against her backside, compressing her plump little buttocks and
pushing his finger deeper still.  "Polly, who's a little older than you, so
she should know about these things, told me that you expressed to her your
desire not to be thought of as a little kid anymore." Stan gazed evenly at
the pretty little brunette and went on.  "Polly told me that you said you
were angry at your parents, because they always treated you like a child.
Susan told me that you said to her that you wished more than anything in
the world that people would recognize how mature you really are.  Is that
right, Antonia?  Is that what you told your friends?" Stan quizzed the girl
closely.

   "W..well, yeah b..but that's not what I meant, exactly," Antonia
answered in a frustrated tone of voice.

   "You mean you do want to be treated like a kid, then," Stan concluded
and was instantly rewarded with a miffed look from the enchanting eleven
year old.

   "W..  N..no, but..." she began.

   "Yes or no, Antonia," Stan responded bluntly.  "Most young ladies your
age are eager to mature, and would give anything to be taught about the
mysteries and rewards of womanhood.  Quite frankly, I'm shocked that you
would wish to remain an uninformed child.  You disappoint me, Antonia,"
Stan told the bewildered youngster.  "I know that Polly and Susan will be
let down as well," the Handler added for effect.

   Antonia was thoroughly flummoxed.  On the one hand, everything she'd
been taught by society told her that to allow a stranger to put his finger
up her "you know" Antonia blushed at the thought was not something good
girls should do.  However, the other girls who shared her new home, some
older, some much younger that Antonia, didn't seem to mind being touched by
the men in white.  The girl named Polly had explained to Antonia early on
that the men here would always treat her like a grownup, and she never had
to worry about being thought of as a child ever again.  At the time, that
prospect had thrilled Antonia.  Finally, maybe somebody would respect her
as a living, breathing person instead of a little kid.

   Out of the blue Antonia was suddenly engulfed with memories about how
her mother had scolded her unmercifully for shaving her legs.  "All her
friends shaved, so why couldn't she?" All she got for her trouble was the
stock answer, "Not yet, Melissa.  You're just not old enough, dear."
Antonia could hear her mother's voice echoing in her mind even now, and she
hated the sound.

   Stan sat patiently, watching the little girl deliberate with her
conscience and moral conditioning.  The highly trained Handler was of
course able to read Antonia's expressions and body language as plainly as
though her thoughts were printed on her forehead.  And when Antonia at last
made her decision, Stan was ready and waiting to help her follow through.

   Wonder Wing - Chapter Three - by - The StoryMaster

   "That's my girl," Stan said pleasantly as he rose from the bed.  "We've
got a busy day today, and we should get started.  So tell me, darling.  Do
you need to use the bathroom, still?"

   "Uh, huh," Antonia said demurely with a nod of her pretty head.  The
man's finger inside of her made that feeling of needing to go seem even
more urgent.

   "Alright then, let's go," the Handler said and started to escort the
pretty little brunette toward the hallway.

   Antonia found it rather disquieting that the big man in white insisted
upon keeping his finger "in there", and it was almost comical to see the
two of them as they moved together down the wide corridor in the direction
of the bathing facilities.  The Handler was forced to bend quite far over
in order to continue to provide Antonia with anal presence, and as they
walked, the pretty little girl would shoot glances his way, her expression
plainly revealing her confusion and concern.

   When at last the two of them arrived at a door marked "Bathing and
Toiletry", Antonia fully expected for the man to remove his finger and then
allow her to go on about her morning necessities.  Instead, to her
surprise, the Handler brought her to a stop then with his free hand, he
pushed the heavy door open and ushered her inside.

   Not knowing what to expect, Antonia reminded her big companion as they
stepped into the white tiled room, "I...  I really have to go, you know."

   "Patience, my dear," Stan responded casually as they crossed the tiled
floor in the direction of what looked like a small stream flowing noisily
across the floor.  Looking to her left, Antonia noted three open stalls
containing three standard toilets, but rather than stopping, the man in
white continued to guide her toward that curious stream of water.  As they
drew closer, Antonia saw that the water flowed in a channel cut into the
floor.

   The small canal looked to be about two feet wide and perhaps eight
inches deep and was tiled just like the rest of the room.  Clear water
issued from a rectangular opening in the far wall, flowed briskly down the
cut in the floor and then appeared to drain away at the far end.

   Antonia had absolutely no idea what the little creek was for and stood
gazing longingly in the direction of the toilet stalls until Stan spoke. 
"Here we are, sweetheart.  Let's get "number one" out of the way first,
shall we." When Antonia gave him a look of total confusion, the Handler
explained, "Step over the channel with one foot, and face the back of the
room, please." Still not comprehending exactly what was expected of her,
Antonia did as the Handler asked.  As she straddled the flowing water,
Antonia noticed for the first time, the row of auditorium style seats
lining the back wall of the white tiled room.  Thankfully they were empty.

   "When's he gonna let me go?" the pretty little girl wondered as the big
man in white knelt beside her.  "And when's he ever going to take his
finger out?"

   "Ohhh," Antonia moaned unconsciously.  She really had to pee very badly.

   "What's the matter, darling?" Stan asked the lovely child.  "You're
obviously uncomfortable, so what are you waiting for, Antonia?" he asked.

   "W..what do you mean?" the pretty brunette asked obtusely.  Then she
winced slightly when the big man twisted his finger inside of her a couple
of times.  Antonia had to pee so badly she thought she would burst.

   "I'm waiting, Antonia," Stan said with just a trace of impatience.  He
felt her clamp down on his finger, her rectal muscles contracting in
sympathetic response as she fought to keep her bladder in check.

   The gorgeous little girl looked at the man, her face clearly expressing
her dismay and lack of understanding.  Then like the light coming on in the
hall closet, Antonia suddenly realized what the Handler wanted her to do.

   Disbelief was her first reaction.  "You mean you want me to...?" the
uncomfortable little beauty allowed her question to fade away into stunned
silence.  The Handler didn't answer her directly.  Instead he placed his
free hand onto Antonia's left hip and began to move his hateful finger
slowly in and out, shallowly at first, but then he pushed in deeper,
seemingly with each successive thrust, until Antonia felt compelled to rise
up onto the balls of her feet in an attempt to relieve the intermittent
pressure.

   "Ohhh..." Antonia moaned, plaintively.  Even though she had to urinate
so badly she could practically taste it, the cute little girl thought to
herself, "I'll never be able to go like this."

   Stan remained silent for he knew that it was only a matter of time, and
although he had a busy schedule ahead of him that day with several other
young Guests awaiting his tutelage, the Handler knew that a girl's first
Assisted Toilet represented a huge hurdle along the road to right thinking,
and one that must be overcome.  Stan was prepared to wait for as long as it
took, although he also knew a few "sweet spots" in the female anatomy which
when manipulated correctly would help to encourage her to empty her bladder
practically on demand.

   "Just relax, darling," Stan purred as he moved his finger slowly in and
out...  in and out...  in and out.

   "But.  I just cannnnn't," Antonia whined pitifully.  She was utterly
mortified.  No one had ever watched her pee before, let alone a grown man
who's finger was..."you know".

   Little did the girl know that beginning tomorrow morning, the row of
seats along the rear wall of the chamber would be filled.  After this
morning, all of her personal hygiene, including bathing, use of the toilet
and, of course, feminine sanitation and menstrual maintenance, would be
attended by her Handler at the very least, if not a full audience of
volunteer observers.  Antonia, like all the Guests of The Youth Training
Center would come to believe that her sexuality was no longer a private
thing, but rather it was something which should be freely shared.

   Antonia was so disturbed by her situation that she didn't realize she'd
begun to pee until she actually heard her urine stream splash into the
flowing water of the channel between her feet, but once she started,
Antonia flowed like an artesian well.

   "That's my girl," she heard the man in white say as waves of relief
washed over her.  In fact, where moments earlier she'd been extremely
uncomfortable in the hands of the big man in white, for a minute or two,
Antonia was so distracted, that she forgot all about the "less than
private" circumstances of her toiletry.  She felt the man place his big
hand onto her tummy and begin to kneed the soft flesh of her belly just
above her pubic arch, but if the truth be known, that actually felt pretty
good.  Antonia's sense of selfconsciousness returned when she looked down
and noticed that the Handler was peering around her hip and studying her
very closely as her urine stream began to pulse in response to the
spontaneous contractions of her bladder as she finished up.

   "All done?" Stan inquired casually of the embarrassed little girl when
he felt her contractions beneath his palm on her tummy subside and then
cease altogether.  Antonia blushed hotly and nodded.  Then after glancing
downward, she looked up abruptly and caught Stan's eye.  "What is it,
sweetheart?" the Handler asked.  "Do we need to do a number two?" he asked
offhandedly.

   Again Antonia blushed at the man's forwardness.  Then she shook her
head. It was kind of hard to tell with his finger up there and all, but she
didn't think she needed to go just now.  Antonia shuddered at the thought
of what would happen when that time did come, though.  But right now all
she really wanted was to get cleaned up.  Antonia felt wet and kinda
filthy. "Have you got any toilet paper," she asked retiringly.

   "Why of course we do, darling," Stan answered cheerfully.  A good
Handler must be prepared for anything, and until such a time as Antonia's
schedule of personal hygiene could be integrated into the agenda with the
rest of the Wonder Wing Guests, the usual program of Assisted Bathing would
have to wait.  Stan, therefore would have to resort to more a conventional
means to cleanse his young charge.  From the breast pocket of his standard
issue white coverall, the Handler produced a small wash cloth.  "Will this
do?" he asked the girl, holding the cloth up for her inspection.

   Antonia looked at the little swatch of linen somewhat dubiously.  "I.. I
suppose," she acquiesced at last and reached for the cloth.  She was
surprised to say the least when the Handler jerked the little rectangle of
fabric out of reach.  "Is he playing kids' games with me?" she wondered
cynically.

   "Hands at your sides, please, my dear," Stan instructed the astonished
eleven year old.

   "But..."

   "Drop your hands to your sides, Antonia," Stan ordered more tersely. 
"And please stand still." She gazed at him questioningly, but did as she
was told.  "Silence, Miss Lumas," the Handler was forced to say in response
to the girl's startled squeak the moment the soft linen touched her.  "And
keep your hands away," Stan said sharply when she reached between her
thighs, attempting to thwart his efforts there.  As a precaution, the
Handler shifted the position of his finger inside the little beauty's
derriere in case she decided to debate him.

   Antonia couldn't remember ever having been subjected to a more
dehumanizing experience.  It took every ounce of what little self-control
she had left to resist grabbing the man's wrist or twisting her body away
from him.  Not since she was an infant had anyone serviced Antonia in this
manner.  For what seemed like a lifetime, she was forced to stand and
silently endure his touch as he dabbed here and wiped there over her most
private places.  As degrading as the procedure was, Antonia had to admit
that the big man in white did seem to touch on all the right spots, leaving
her feeling utterly violated but reasonably clean none the less.

   Following her morning toiletries, Antonia was escorted to breakfast by
her principal Handler.  Polly was there in the big common dining area, and
she waved, but Antonia wasn't feeling very talkative.  She was distracted
and extremely self-conscious of the fact that while she picked
half-heartedly at her breakfast, she was seated upon the right hand of her
Handler.  Stan sat beside her on the bench seat and ate with his left hand.
His right arm was positioned behind the girl's back, and his big right hand
lay beneath her on the bench seat.  Her little bottom was so petite that
Stan could practically cradle her two rounded buttocks in his one hand, and
all but one of his fingers were pressed between the bench and her soft,
warm flesh.

   The little brunette squirmed uneasily, and glanced at the Handler
ruefully on more than one occasion.  Stan knew she was uncomfortable, and
at one point he asked her to tell him what the problem was.  Antonia hated
to even think about the man's finger in her rear end, let alone talk about
it, but looking around the room, she noticed that none of the other girls
were coupled with their Handler during breakfast.  So, summoning her
courage, Antonia asked her Handler why she had been singled out and
subjected to this kind of individual attention.

   "That's a very good question, Antonia, and one that deserves an answer,"
Stan said agreeably.  Just then a little red headed girl passed by close to
their table, so the Handler turned and called her over.

   She looked to be about the same age as Antonia perhaps a year older and
was just as cute as a button with big green eyes and hundreds of freckles.
She had a slim build, with rather narrow hips and incredibly long, slender
legs.  Her petite body was starting to blossom, and she sported two perfect
little breast cones of firm white flesh topped with rosy pink areolae the
size of quarters.

   "And how are you today, Bethany?" Stan asked in a cordial tone of voice
as he wrapped his left arm around the slender girl and pulled her closer.
He felt her start to resist his advance, but she quickly reconsidered. 
"Progress," Stan thought confidently.  Her skin was exceptionally soft and
warm.  "Antonia, this is Bethany," the Handler said by way of introduction.
The two girls looked at each other, but remained silent.  "Antonia has only
been with us for a short time, Bethany, and she's curious about the CAP
Program.  Perhaps you can help Antonia understand."

   The little red head nodded hesitantly.  She herself had only been in
residence for a little over two months, but according to her Handler and
many of her more casual partners, Bethany O'Donald was progressing nicely.
Stan allowed his free hand to slip down to Bethany's pert little back side
where his finger tips came to rest on a small, hard disk that protruded
from between her somewhat skinny buttocks.

   "Turn around, please, Bethany," Stan told the pretty little girl and
moved his hand to her hip as she slowly complied with his wishes.  "Thank
you, Bethany.  Now hold still please," Stan instructed.  Speaking to
Antonia the Handler explained, "The instrument that Bethany is carrying is
called a CAP Device.  What you see here," he said as he grasped the puck
shaped disk between his thumb and index finger, "is only a small part of
the device the tip of the iceberg so to speak," Stan added with a chuckle.
"The rest is inside.  Right, Bethany," he asked rhetorically as he began to
twist the small black cylinder first one way and then the other like a safe
cracker dialing a combination lock.  Antonia looked on, utterly astonished
as the lithe little red head accepted the Handler's touch with a noticeable
shiver.  "That doesn't hurt, does it, Bethany?" Stan asked soothingly.

   "Uh uh," the little girl replied, shaking her head.

   "And have we been doing our exercises, my dear?" Stan inquired, giving
her CAP a gentle tug and testing her muscle control.

   "Uh huh," she responded with a timid nod.

   A smile spread across the Handler's face when he felt the pretty young
girl clamp down on the composite appliance in an effort to hold onto it. 
"Good girl, Bethany," Stan complimented her.  "You're doing very well,
sweetheart," he added, releasing her CAP.  Then he gave her an affectionate
little pat on the rear.  Then turning to Antonia he asked, "Do you have any
questions for Bethany, my dear?"

   Antonia was too befuddled to speak at first as a thousand questions
flooded her conscious mind.  She wanted to ask the red headed girl why she
walked around all day with that thing in her rear end.  "Why didn't she
take it out?  How big is it?  What happens when she has to go to the
bathroom?" However, when at last she found her tongue the only question she
could think of was, "Why?"

   "Why does she have to keep that thing inside of her?" Antonia asked,
addressing her question to Stan, but it was Bethany who answered.

   "It helps me to concentrate and to learn," the little girl spoke calmly,
keeping her eyes on those of the man in white.  "We all wear one every
day," Bethany continued.  "Don't worry, you'll get used to it.  It just
takes a little time.  That's all," the sweet youngster assured her.

   "Antonia doesn't have a CAP yet, Bethany, but she will the next time you
see her," Stan stated unequivocally.  "Thank you for your help, my dear,"
he told the pretty little red head.  "You may run along now, and I'm
definitely going to tell your Handler how well you're doing with your
program, Bethany." The little girl actually smiled at Stan.  She was
understandably quite proud of herself.

   As the red headed girl walked away, Antonia found herself staring at the
small black object nestled between her slender buttocks.  An unexpected
shudder passed through the pretty brunette as she reflexively bore down on
her Handler's finger.  Somehow Antonia knew with a cold certainty that very
soon she too would be the bearer of such a device.