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TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 11
by Joy Paine
Index words: frustration f# masturbation m#
NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no
resemblance to any person living or dead. The exception is that
I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time.
Finally the last boy finished raping Susie's face, and rolled, exhausted,
to the side of the bed. Angie smiled her malevolent smirk once more.
"OK, Susie darling," she grinned. "It's your turn now."
Susie cringed. What on earth was left? Was there any other humiliation
that
she had not already suffered?
And then Angie was kneeling beside her, caressing Susie's nipples with
her fingers and tongue, once more rousing in Susie the swelling of
unbidden
passion that had been so frustratingly cut short each time. But this
time,
Angie was more generous. She kept the gentle manipulations going far
longer
than she had before, until Susie knew that she would go crazy if she
didn't
come soon.
Caught up in the rising tide of passion, Susie made no objection when she
felt Angie's fingers at the waistband of her panties, felt the younger
girl
start to take off that one remaining garment. She eagerly raised her
hips,
impatiently helping Angie to strip her.
f#
And then Angie's tongue was on her. Susie writhed in ecstasy, fully aware
that she was but seconds away from orgasm . . .
Suddenly, Angie was gone again. With a little cry of dismay, Susie opened
her eyes, saw that Angie was starting to put her clothes back on. "It's
just like you told us about T.S. Eliot, Teacher," she taunted. "Not with
a
bang, but with a whimper. Only this time, the T.S. is for you. But you're
a big girl now -- I'm sure that you can figure out how to finish by
yourself."
m#
They all walked out of the room, leaving Susie in the depths of
frustration.
Without conscious volition, as if she were a passive spectator, Susie
felt
her hands creeping under their own power to the tops of her thighs, her
fingers spreading the dripping lips of her cunt, thrusting deep inside.
One of her fingers found her clitoris, and started massaging gently.
She knew that what she was doing was sinful, against all the teachings of
her parents and her church, but there was no way she could possibly stop
now. Eyes clenched shut, she continued the blissful rubbing and probing
until everything exploded into an eruption of passion. She lay through
the
aftershocks, trying to ignore the wave of guilt that was already spoiling
the experience for her. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes.
And gave a small scream of dismay. They hadn't left the room at all, she
saw with sinking heart. As soon as she had closed her eyes, the whole
group
had tiptoed back into the room, and witnessed her final degradation,
taking
pictures of her in the throes of self-abuse.
They gave her a round of ironic applause.
"That schtick alone was worth the price of admission," Angie crooned.
"The
kids at school are going to go ape when they see these pictures of
Teacher
finger-fucking herself. We should make a tidy bit of change peddling
these pictures locally, even before we get around to releasing them for
national distribution."
"No!" Susie protested. She forgot about her nakedness and the ordeal of
humiliation she had gone through. "You can't show those pictures to
anybody! Please -- you promised that they were only for your own
protection!"
"Sure," Angie chuckled. "And the best possible way to protect ourselves
would be to discredit you ahead of time. And you'll have to admit there
isn't any better way to discredit you than to circulate these pictures of
you masturbating. Right in your own bedroom -- with black sating sheets,
yet! And with cameras looking on.
"I guess the kids -- and the parents too -- never guessed how kinky their
sweet little teacher is. And you can just imagine what effect these
pictures will have on your hubby's business," she went on.
Susie's heart sank further. She had been too concerned about her own
reputation, she felt guiltily. She hadn't even stopped to realize
that she was betraying Jim at the same time.
Dimly, she realized that Angie was still speaking. "Of course, there is
one thing you could do . . ."
"Please . . ." Susie begged.
"That's the magic word, Susie-Floozie," Angie taunted. "If you do please
us enough, maybe we'll let you off the hook. For a while, at least."
Susie knew what was next, but she didn't have any choice. "I'll do what
you want," she mumbled, hanging her head in shame.
"OK, Sweetie, then it's a date. One week from today. And we'll expect you
to be real nice to us in school in the meantime. We'd like to make it
earlier," she added, "but we've got to choose a time when Jimmy boy is
sure to be away. And after all, we do have other girl friends to attend
to in the meantime.
"Oh, and one other thing." Angie opened her purse, took out a little
packet. "I don't know whether you're on the Pill or not, but we don't
want
to take any chances. Here's a month's supply. I want you to start taking
them right away. Next week, there's going to be some real fucking."
While they put their clothes on, the youngsters made Susie stand there,
naked, with her hands clasped behind her, completely exposed to their
lecherous stares and their ribald remarks. And the caresses of their
rough hands. When they were finally ready to leave, Angie delivered her
parting shot.
"An old-fashioned girl like you might persuade herself that a little
promiscuous fucking is a fate worse than death, as they used to call it.
Well, maybe it is, and maybe it isn't. It's all in the way you look at
it.
But remember, Honey, if you decide to commit suicide, or run away, or
something, there'll be absolutely nothing left to keep us from
circulating
these pictures, regardless of what they might do to your precious
husband's life.
"So I guess that's about it, Honeybunch. No -- wait a minute -- there is
one other little thing." She reached into her handbag, took out a bottle
of pills. "I can understand the excitement and the ecstasy of all this
Forbidden Passion might have left you a bit overwrought. And we don't
want you taking any hasty action in this condition. So you're going to
take this sleeping pill. You'll be amazed at the difference in your
outlook a good night's sleep will make."
Angie's hand went to Susie's breast, squeezing menacingly, cutting off
the older girl's protest before she could voice it. Reluctantly, Susie
swallowed the pill, washing it down with water that one of the boys had
brought from the bathroom. She sat dumbly as the feeling of drowsiness
started to overcome her, watching the group strip the black sheets from
the bed and replace them with Susie's own linen, saw them pack up the
camera and video equipment. Unprotesting, she let Angie and the boys
dress
her in her own nightgown, dimly aware of the last-moment liberties that
they were taking with her body.
She was almost completely out as they headed for the door, barely hearing
Angie's parting shot: "So long, Teach, see you tomorrow. Don't do
anything
I wouldn't do!"
================================================================
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 12
by Joy Paine
Index words: dress code d#
NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no
resemblance to any person living or dead. The exception is that
I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time.
Angie had been right about one thing -- the night's sleep did make a big
difference. Susie woke with a sense of euphoria that she had not felt
since
she was a child.
Later on, as she looked back, Susie assumed that the sense of well-being
was
due either to the complete relaxation that had been produced by the
sleeping
pill, or the after-effects of the wild orgasm she had given herself at
the
end of her ordeal.
But that was later. At the moment, she had forgotten the ugly evening
entirely. She stretched luxuriously, revelling in the present. And then
she
realized what had wakened her.
The telephone was still ringing, determined not to be ignored. She lifted
the instrument lazily, murmured into the microphone.
Suddenly, the terror and shame of the night before came flooding back.
"Hi, Teach," Angie's voice taunted her. "Have you been getting any?" As
Susie groped for words, Angie spoke again, her voice hardening. "Just to
make sure you don't call in sick, or something," she grated. "We do so
look
forward to your bright smile each day. And I'm sure that you don't want
to
miss the Principal's daily proposition," she added with a sneer.
"So answer me, cunt!" she barked. "You'll be there today, won't you?"
Susie swallowed hard. She knew that she was at the mercy of this little
monster."I'll be there," she moaned.
Angie gave a low, sensuous chuckle. "I figured that you wouldn't be able
to
stay away from the fellows, after your sentimental interlude with them,"
she
taunted. "They are fellows of good taste, you'll have to agree." She
rolled
the word "taste" suggestively on her tongue. "So we'll see you as usual.
d#
"Oh, and one more thing," she added as if in afterthought. "Just as a
gesture of friendship, we don't want you to wear a bra to school from now
on. Or panties, either. Well, so long now. Don't be late." She hung up
before Susie could protest.
Her euphoria destroyed by the phone call, Susie rolled out of bed,
dragged
herself to the bathroom. Mechanically, she went through the routine of
shower and her other morning ablutions, then went into the kitchen, where
she poured a bowl of cereal.
But the thought of swallowing brought back the revolting memories of last
night, and she just couldn't choke anything down. Giving it up as a bad
job,
she went back to the bedroom (where the memories weren't any more
pleasant)
and started dressing.
She put on blouse and skirt, carefully choosing a thick dark material
that
would not reveal the absence of underwear, even under the most searching
light. But she couldn't go through with it. She felt naked without her
bra
and panties. Naked and sinful, and reminded again of the defilement of
last
night. Which was just what that gang of young demons wanted, she
realized.
"Fuck them!" she muttered, aghast at her own use of the dirty word.
Peeling
off her blouse, she shrugged into a bra, defiantly buttoned the blouse
again; then wiggled her hips into a pair of briefs.
Then off to school, where she knew that the class would be waiting for
her
like a pack of wolves.
==========================================================
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 13
by Joy Paine
Index words: feel-up f# humiliation h# principal p#
threats t#
NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no
resemblance to any person living or dead. The exception is that
I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time.
Angie intercepted Susie in the hall, at the classroom door. "Hi, Teach!"
she said brightly. "You're looking chipper this morning. I guess that
you must have done something fun last night.
h#
"By the way," she went on, "we've told some of the kids about it. And
showed them the pictures, of course -- they didn't believe us at first.
We won't tell you which kids we told -- we sort of think it would
entertain you to guess about it. But you can just imagine how they all
want to get in on next week's fun." Throwing Susie one last malevolent
smile, the little blonde glided into the room.
They looked just like a wolf pack, Susie told herself. And there was
no way of knowing which ones were in on her guilty secret. If any at
all. It would be just like Angie to lie about something like that,
just to make her squirm. But by the way they were staring at her bosom
and crotch, she was sure that at least some of them knew . . .
Take Jack, for instance. She knew what his hands were doing, inside
his pockets. (editor's note: we used to call this "pocket pool") And
Sylvia. She could see a gleam of envy in Sylvia's eyes. The poor girl
would have done anything to be the center of attention of a bunch of
boys like that, not realizing that it was all just so much pain and
humiliation. And Bill. And Henry. And . . .
Susie found it impossible to keep her mind on her teaching, found her
attention wandering in mid-sentence, found herself blushing furiously
every time she heard one of her rapists asking questions about the
Shakespeare text. Loaded questions, like "Did Shakespeare really mean
it as a pun when he said 'the Trojan's trumpet' just after Cressida
finished speaking?" Or the salacious emphasis they put on innocent
words, like "Trojan", or "come", or "prick".
Damn! she thought. Why did they have to be studying "Troilus and
Cressida" now, anyway, with its broad references to sexual promiscuity,
and its pun on the word "pander"?
She managed somehow to get through the period, although she would have
been hard put to tell anyone what she had said. And then the visit to
the Principal's office.
p#
It was probably her imagination, she told herself, but it almost seemed
as if he too were in on the sadistic joke. His proposition was more
blatant than ever. He even went so far as to rest his hand on her ass,
pinning her up against the wall so that she couldn't squirm away.
"Look", he grated, "we both know that you're going to put out for me
sooner or later. So why prolong the agony? I'll bet that you want it
as much as I do -- or you would, if you didn't have your students to
service you."
(Did he know, or was he just trying to bait her?)
"And believe me," he went on, "if I ever get any real proof that you've
been putting out for the kids, it's going to go hard with you. I'll
regard it as a personal insult that you kept giving me the brush-off
while you let them stick their young dicks into you."
She knew that she should slap his face and walk out of his office.
That's what she would have done yesterday. And he knew it, too, and
took her acceptance of her humiliation as proof of his charge. And
she knew that, too.
And then the last disaster of the day. Angie cornered her in the
classroom, asked her to step into the supply closet for a "heart-to-
heart talk".
f#
"Thanks for joining me in this little tete-a-tete", Angie crooned. "Or
maybe I should say tit-a-tit." Her hands went caressingly to Susie's
breasts, while Susie moaned in discomfiture and helpless rage. Plus a
touch of unwanted arousal. And then she realized. Angie was checking
to see whether she was braless as ordered! She knew that the younger
girl could feel the bra, but Angie said nothing of it. She had something
else to say.
"I've got good news and bad news, teacher," she taunted. "The bad news
is that our regular date for tonight can't make it. Woman stuff, you
know.
At least we know that the boys haven't knocked her up," she smirked. "Not
yet, anyway. She'll have to work extra hard next time, of course, for
mis-timing things like this. But that doesn't help us out tonight.
"So the good news is that this leaves us free to come over and rape you
tonight.
t#
"Oh, I know that you haven't had time to get started with the Pill and
all. But in the course of rummaging through your medicine cabinet, I
found out that you use a diaphragm, so I don't think we'll have to worry
about getting you into a family way. I do want you to get started on the
Pill, though," she added. "It's so much less trouble that way, and you're
always ready to go at a moment's notice. And who knows when the boys
might get horny? Like during recess, or even between classes. After all,
they have a bed in the Teachers' room, don't they? Or there's always
the parking lot.
"And there's always the other advantage with the Pill," she pointed out,
"that we can fix it so you miss a period now and then, if we need you.
And I'm not talking about school periods, Miss Innocent. If we can do
away with your menstrual period when we need to, that'll just leave you
available for service more of the time."
Angie rode "home" in Susie's car that night. "The guys will follow in
their car, with the equipment," Angie pointed out.
==============================================================
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 14
by Joy Paine
Index words: humiliation h# strip s#
NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no
resemblance to any person living or dead. The exception is that
I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time.
That remark about the "equipment" bothered Susie, more even than the
threat of another gang rape. She was sure that it meant something
kinky, something that meant that extra pain and degradation would
accompany the rape.
h#
And then Angie's hand drove the thought out of her mind. Creeping
under Susie's skirt, hiking the skirt above her knees. Inching its
way up her leg, insinuating itself between her thighs, ever upward.
Susie yelped in shock and pain as Angie's fingers closed in a cruel
pinch, holding her like a vise. She almost drove the car off the
road in her struggles.
And then the hold relaxed, and she felt Angie's fingers working their
way under her panties, this time gently probing. A deep red flushed
Susie's face as Angie's probing finger -- then two fingers -- worked
their way inside her; started stroking sensuously, arousing her
desire in spite of her grim determination not to respond.
Angie laughed aloud as the juices began to flow, and she started an
in-and-out motion that soon had Susie moaning in hated ecstasy.
"Like it, Susie dear?" Angie taunted. As always, she withdrew before
Susie could achieve a release, laughing at the older girl's desperate
frustration. "Don't worry, Teach," she teased. "The boys'll have
something even better for you -- and this will get you all lubricated
so they'll have all the more fun."
By now, they had reached Susie's house, the car with the boys and
the "equipment" following close behind. Susie saw them unloading a
battered suitcase, carrying it into the house.
"We'll store the stuff at your house," Angie announced, "so we
won't have to bring it with us every time we drop in. I'm sure that
you can find someplace to stash it where Hubby won't get curious
about it. On second thought," she chuckled, "maybe we should let
Hubby in on the secret. He just might get a bang out of it." Susie
groaned inwardly.
"After all," Angie added. "we did charge it to your credit card --
those parts that we didn't build, of course.
"So now," Angie said in a businesslike tone, "I see that the boys
have the video recorder all ready, so let's get going. Strip for
us, Honey, just like you did last night."
s#
Moving mechanically, trying to keep her thoughts on something else,
Susie shrugged out of her blouse, let the skirt fall to the floor,
and stood before them in bra, panties, and shoes. She never wore
stockings on a hot day like this -- the tanned flesh of her legs
looked a lot like stockings, anyhow.
And then the moment that Susie had been dreading. "I see that you
disobeyed our orders about the bra and panties, darling", Angie
drawled ominously. "I suppose you just decided that we didn't mean
what we said?"
"No!" Susie protested. "It's just that I felt -- I felt naked
without them!"
"Which is just what we wanted, Susie dear," Chuck teased. "Naked
is the way we like you best, baby."
"Ah well, you'll just have to be taught a lesson," Angie purred
in mock sorrow. "So take off your bra now, and get ready for the
punishment. And take off your panties, too, while you're at it."
Reluctantly, Susie inched out of her bra and panties. She was
embarrassed, yes, but no more so than last night -- even when they
put their hands on her. But she was concerned with the threat of
"punishment", and she didn't like the idea that taking her bra off
seemed to be a prerequisite for that punishment. What were these
young monsters going to do to her breasts?
The boys had been unpacking some of the "equipment", although they
had been dividing their attention with the "free show" that Susie
was being forced to provide. And now Chuck picked up one piece of
that equipment.
It looked harmless enough -- a pulley, with a rope through it. One of
the boys stood on a chair, and fastened the pulley to one of the
open beams that supported the roof of the house. They buckled a pair
of leather cuffs around Susie's wrists and made them fast to the
rope that was reeved through the pulley, making the rope fast at a
length that held Susie's wrists at about the level of her shoulders.
A spreader held the ropes apart, so that the poor girl couldn't use
her hands to cover her nakedness.
"Now for the lesson," Angie gloated. "How about it, Chuck, do you
want to use the Crushers, or would you rather start with the spiders?"
===================================================
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 15
by Joy Paine
Index words: nipple torture, "spiders" n#
NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no
resemblance to any person living or dead. The exception is that
I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time.
Chuck paused for a moment, ostensibly thinking it over. But Susie
suspected that he had made up his mind long ago, that his hesitation
was just to prolong her agony. "For dramatic effect", as she had
taught them in her English class.
"Well," he said hesitantly, "obviously little Susie is uncomfortable
when she doesn't have something on her tits -- she just told us so
herself. And I think we ought to be kind enough to indulge that
little whim of hers. Especially when it'll be fun for us, too."
he grinned.
"As a general rule, I like the Crushers, but I'm afraid that they'd
get in the way of some other plans I have for Susie's tits tonight.
After all, we do owe her that punishment, you know. So I guess it'll
have to be the Spiders. We can always use the Crushers later," he
added hopefully.
n#
Angie enjoyed the horrified look on Susie's face. "Don't worry,
Susie dear," she gloated. "We aren't going to use real live spiders.
When we get around to the live spiders, they won't go on your tits.
Our rule is that all the living things, like spiders, and ants,
and caterpillars . . ."
". . . and fishworms," Chuck prompted.
"And fishworms," Angie agreed. "All those creepy crawly living
things don't go on the tits. They go up the twat instead." She
let the horror of that implication sink in for a few seconds.
"The Spiders," she went on, "are a little gem that we borrowed
from the Spanish Inquisition. With modifications. Those guys used
to make them of cast iron, but Chuck couldn't quite manage that,
without having access to a foundry. He came up with a pretty good
substitute, though. Suppose you explain them to her, Chuck. That
way, she can get a foretaste of the pain, even before we put them
on her."
"Delighted, my lady." Chuck bowed mockingly. "They're very simple,
really. We make them out of stiff fine wire, such as you can buy
at Radio Shack, or any other electronics supply house. The
technical term is number 18, solid hook-up wire. First, we cut
the wire into 1-inch lengths, and strip it.
"We love to strip things," he leered. "But in this case, it just
means taking off the insulation. Then we solder three of the
wires together at their midpoints. Just think of a star, or a
three-legged X, and you'll get the picture. The next move is to
bend the ends of the legs down at right angles, about a quarter
of an inch from the crossover point, so it gives something that
looks like the skeleton of a miniature dome. Or a six-legged
spider -- hence the name. Et voila!"
Susie's gaze was drawn hypnotically to the two small objects in
Chuck's hand. She already had a premonition as to their diabolical
use.
"They don't really look all that sinister, do they?" Angie cooed.
"And they're quite tame, compared with the originals used by the
Inquisition. Those guys used to heat the spiders red hot before
using them. But we love you too much to do that, Susie darling.
Besides, on a practical level, it would be awfully hard to explain
to Hubby if we burned your nipples off. It would be fun, to watch
you dance, though . . ." she added dreamily.
Angie took one of the Spiders from Chuck's palm. Slowly, deliberately,
watching the horrified expression on Susie's face, she positioned the
Spider carefully over one of the helpless girl's nipples, then pressed
it into place.
The legs didn't pierce Susie's skin, but the irritation of that most
tender flesh was still painful enough to elicit a sharp gasp. Humming
a little tune to herself, Angie applied a strip of adhesive tape to
hold the little treasure firmly in place, and tapped it lightly with
her fingertip, driving new pain into Susie's helpless body.
And then the other nipple . . .
"It'll grow on you as the party goes on," Angie taunted. "Every time
your tits jiggle, the tape will pull the little fellow in for another
bite. And the real beauty is that they are so inconspicuous. You
could wear them to a party under a low-cut evening gown, and nobody
would suspect the fun you were having underneath. You could even
wear one on your clit, too", she added as an afterthought.
"As a matter of fact," she went on, "I think we'll let you wear
them to school on a regular basis for a while, so you won't have
to feel naked without something on your tits. We might even have
you wear your bra over them, to start out with. After a couple of
days of that, I bet you'd welcome the chance to do without your
precious bra."
--
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