Message-ID: <59600asstr$1258236604@assm.asstr.org> X-Original-To: story-submit@asstr.org Delivered-To: story-submit@asstr.org X-Original-Path: news.giganews.com.POSTED!not-for-mail NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 14 Nov 2009 07:48:20 -0600 From: StoryMaster@TYTC.org X-DF-Seen-By: ms X-Original-Message-ID: <d9dtf5tjvpi8edtsk1jjf71m2o02kp4upu@4ax.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 X-Usenet-Provider: http://www.giganews.com X-DMCA-Notifications: http://www.giganews.com/info/dmca.html X-Abuse-and-DMCA-Info: Please be sure to forward a copy of ALL headers X-Abuse-and-DMCA-Info: Otherwise we will be unable to process your complaint properly X-Postfilter: 1.3.40 Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sat, 14 Nov 2009 08:48:31 -0500 Subject: {ASSM} "The Youth Training Center" The Book -by- The StoryMaster - Chapter 16 [M+,teen, pt, f+, NC, Abduction] Lines: 3584 Date: Sat, 14 Nov 2009 17:10:04 -0500 Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr.org/Year2009/59600> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-admin@asstr.org> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@asstr.org> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, RuiJorge, newsman Chapter Sixteen - 10S-NE1 News of this magnitude was simply too Earth shattering to remain a secret for very long within the closely knit group of Handlers and Associates at The Youth Training Center. Rumor had it that the van driver was the first to "spill the beans", bragging to a friend that he'd touched her while she lay unconscious in rear of his transport vehicle. He'd gone on to claim that her scent was still on his fingers, asking his buddies down at the loading dock if any of them wanted a sample. In general this sort of lewd behavior was frowned upon by the Administrative Department, but given the circumstances, it was decided that a certain amount of leniency was in order. It had been a difficult collection, and the fine men and women in that highly specialized division deserved commendation. The young woman's security was top notch, undoubtedly costing her a ton of money, but in the end the patience and professionalism of the TYTC Collections Team had paid off. In fact she was being unloaded and moved to Recovery at that very moment, and it seemed that everyone knew about it. The hallways and corridors of the massive underground complex fairly buzzed with excitement and anticipation. "Well, Boss, do you think we can pull it off?" Rick Adams asked good-naturedly of the man seated opposite him behind a big oaken desk. Adam North, the Headmaster of the Center thought for a moment before answering as was his custom. Then with an ironic smile he said to his Chief Handler, "Don't you think it's a little late to be worrying about that? She's in Recovery as we speak and is due here for her "Double I" within the hour." After a thoughtful interlude the Headmaster went on. "Consider this, Rick. She's no different than any other female in a purely anatomical sense. So I don't see any reason why our program shouldn't work for her as flawlessly as it's worked for countless other young ladies for nearly two decades." Rick understood the logic behind his employer's statement, but still he had his doubts. "What about her age?" he challenged. Again there was a period of silence preceding North's response. "Granted, her advanced age is troublesome. She's had what... nineteen years, during which time she's no doubt developed some very bad habits. We all know that much past the age of fourteen, members of the `fairer sex' can become pretty stubborn and set in their ways," North stated, thinking out loud. "Couple that with her considerable wealth and celebrity, pour in an extra dose of good looks, and we have all the makings for a real challenge, don't we?" he asked his second in command with a wry smile. "Yes we do, Boss," Rick answered with a nod and a sigh. "But if we're successful, imagine what a marketing coup this will be for us." Both men nodded then sat in silence for a time. "I think we should focus on the positive side," Adam North began when the intercom extension on his desk chirped. He picked up the receiver and held it to his ear. "Uh, huh.. Uh, huh," he muttered. "Very well, send her down. Two escorts please, and track down Mark Haskel. Tell him we're ready for him." His voice carried a sense of authority and power that had been absent during his earlier conversation with Rick Adams. Now, however, it was time to get down to business. North replaced the receiver in its cradle. "I'm giving her over to you, Rick," the Headmaster stated for the record. "I'd like for you to be her Principal Handler. Additionally, I'm assigning Mark Haskel to her team. He'll work under your direction and supervision, but I believe Mark possesses qualities which might be useful in helping our newest Guest to concentrate. After all, she has a lot to `unlearn'," North added with another wry smile. "I appreciate your vote of confidence," Rick Adams said to his superior. "I've worked with Mark before, and I know that he's quite competent and very thorough. Don't worry, Boss. We'll make you proud," Rick assured the TYTC Headmaster. "I know you will," North replied then glanced at his wristwatch. "She should be here any minute." Another moment of silence followed before Rick spoke up in order to break the growing tension in the air. "Her new owner is the guy who I don't envy," he said with a chuckle. "Even with the benefits of our training, this little lady's going to be difficult to keep under wraps." "Not if he can keep her under the sheets," North shot back with his legendary dry sense of humor, and both men laughed good naturedly. Then there came a knock upon the door. "Come," North spoke curtly. The heavy wooden door opened abruptly and through it walked a large man dressed in white coveralls. Turning as he entered, the man looked back, awaiting his charge. The girl looked a little dazed which was certainly to be expected considering the rather large dose of tranquilizer she'd received upon collection. She did not, however accept the assistance of her escorts and stepped boldly into the unfamiliar office surroundings followed by a second man dressed in identical clothing to the first, the same clothing, as a matter of fact, that Rick Adams wore; the spotless, white coveralls of a TYTC Handler. Adam North stood. "Welcome. Do come in, my dear," he said politely. He then held up a hand when she started to respond. Adam North enjoyed a mysterious power over young women, and this girl was apparently no exception, for she fell silent instantly, never uttering a sound. "We've been looking forward to your visit for quite some time now. You posed a considerable challenge for the good people of our Collections Department, but I'm happy to see that they were at last able to arrange for you to join us," he said with a smile. "I do hope that you will come to enjoy your stay." He took his seat and opened a file folder which lay on the desk blotter in front of him. Anna was extremely confused. For the life of her, she couldn't remember how she'd arrived in this place. She recalled going out for her usual morning run through the posh south Florida neighborhood where she resided for part of the year. She'd quickly outdistanced Stephan, her bodyguard, as usual, even though she'd been cautioned repeatedly about personal security and the need to be vigilant at all times when she was out in public. "We can't do our job, if you insist upon thwarting our security measures, Miss," Gerald, her Head of Security, had admonished her just yesterday. Anna was seriously considering firing the man. "He's such a pest. I pay him a fortune, and for what? All he ever does is tell me what to do!" Exasperated by his bossiness, she'd explained to the head security man that the palatial estate in which she lived was built like a fortress, and that the neighboring property owners were all extremely wealthy and equally concerned about their privacy and security. "Why else do you think I paid almost three million to live here, Gerald?" she'd asked the professional man in an arrogant and patronizing tone of voice. Anna was not used to answering to many people, and certainly not to those for whom she'd paid good money. The elegant estates in Anna's neighborhood were walled and gated and set back from an immaculately landscaped lane lined with huge Banyan trees and interspersed with Queen palms. The marksman was well concealed, yet commanded a clear view of the shaded street below. He recognized his target immediately when she rounded the curve approximately twenty meters distant from his position. He'd been informed by spotters placed strategically along the subject's route that she was in the clear. "Ready collection?" he queried in a whisper. "Roger that," came the hushed reply in his earpiece. "Taking the shot," the marksman spoke softly to the rest of his team as he applied gradual pressure to the trigger of the sophisticated pneumatic rifle. Fifteen meters away a tiny red dot danced momentarily on the flank of his target. There was no recoil and no report as the red marker of the targeting laser was instantly replaced by a small dart-like projectile which protruded from the shining surface of spandex covering her right hip. The marksman watched as she skipped one step, glancing down at the sudden source of discomfort and then dropped. "Subject down," the shooter whispered into his tiny mic. There was no verbal acknowledgment, but in the lane an unmarked white van appeared, seemingly from out of nowhere. Had anyone been around to witness the operation, they most certainly would have been impressed, for in less than a minute the nondescript service vehicle pulled away, leaving the shaded street silent and empty. Two blocks away the safety shooter lowered his weapon and disappeared into the wooded area behind his position. His services would not be required that day. On the street below the young body guard raced to catch up with his errant charge. "Damn that blond bitch!" he hissed under his labored breathing. Silently he promised himself that he would step up his sprinting drills. Anna awoke on a cot in a medical facility of some sort. The walls and floor were white tiled and there were several stainless steel cabinets arranged around the perimeter of the room. No sooner had she opened her eyes it seemed, than a young man dressed in white entered the room. Anna recalled thinking that he was rather good looking. "Feeling better?" the man inquired politely. "I... Where?" Anna tried to sit up, but immediately the room began to spin crazily. "Whoa! Take it easy there, young lady. Just lie still for awhile longer. You're gonna be just fine," the orderly instructed her. Anna didn't argue with him. Suddenly she felt terrible. She was weak and shaking and mildly nauseous. "I hope I'm not hurt or anything," she reflected groggily before drifting off again. She had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but when next she regained consciousness, she felt a little better. When Anna opened her eyes she found that she was in the same room on the same cot, and the same young orderly was leaning over her. Out of the corner of her eye, Anna noticed him quickly return his hand to his side. As she gazed up into his dark eyes, suddenly an inherently female alarm sounded in her subconscious. "Had he... had he been... been... touching me?" a panicky little voice in her mind cried. Then her reason stepped in and assured her that she was obviously mistaken. "No way," she'd quickly managed to convince herself. "Welcome back," the orderly said in a friendly voice. His smile was warm and genuine. "If you're feeling up to it, there are some folks who would like to make your acquaintance." "I... I guess I'm OK," Anna replied. Her accent was unmistakable. A thousand questions came to mind, but all she could manage in her current state of grogginess was, "Where am I?" The young man smiled pleasantly and said, "Come with me, please, Miss, and all of your questions will be answered." Then he held out his hand to her and helped her up. The orderly led her from the exam room and out into a wide corridor where another man dressed in white materialized out of nowhere and fell in behind them. Anna recalled thinking that she was really being given the VIP treatment. "This is quite a hospital," she said casually as she was led down the empty corridor. Her attendants didn't comment. All of the hallways had been cleared between the Recovery Room and the Headmaster's Office as was the routine during new admissions to avoid unnecessarily upsetting the new Guests. As a result, Anna arrived at the door of the office of The Headmaster of The Youth Training Center without incident. "Let's see, Miss Kournikova," Adam North began reading out loud from the file folder. "According to our records, you are nineteen years of age. You are five feet, eight inches tall and weigh approximately one hundred twenty-three pounds. Blond hair, natural I assume, and green eyes," North continued down the list of personal statistics. Then looking up at Anna he made a curious remark. "We'll be getting a few additional measurements and statistics from you a little later." North returned his attention to the file, ignoring the rather impertinent look she directed at him. "Currently dating one Sergei Fedorov, favorite dessert is chocolate ice cream, nickname Murzik, menstrual cycle starts around the fifth of each month." His last statement got Anna's attention. "Who are you people, and what do you want? When will I be allowed to go? I have a very busy schedule, in case you didn't know," she stated, her inherent arrogance, beginning to rear its ugly head. "All in good time, Miss Kournikova," North responded calmly. "And yes, indeed you do have a busy schedule, my dear, so I suggest we get started right away. Oh, and by the way, I love your accent." He smiled warmly at the slightly miffed and confused young woman. Glancing at the two large, white clad men who flanked the lovely blond tennis star, North said curtly, "Ted, Curtis, if you would be so kind as to assist Miss Kournikova we'll begin the Interview." "I.. What the...?" Anna sputtered in surprise as the two attendants seized her arms. Just then there came another knock at the door. "Come," Adam North responded. "Let me go, you big ape!" Anna snarled at the man on her left as she tried unsuccessfully to wrench her wrist free from his powerful grip. She was not accustomed to being touched or handled without her expressed permission. "Ah, Mark, here you are," North said cordially, ignoring the struggle going on in front of his desk. "And just in time, it appears," Mark Haskel said with a grin. The Handler moved gracefully for a man of his stature. As he stepped through the door, he was forced to duck his head. Mark Haskel was very nearly seven feet tall, weighed two hundred fifty pounds and not an ounce of it was fat. Behind him, Mark rolled a stainless steel frame which looked like a coat rack on casters. "Thought I might bring this along in case we need it," Mark said. "We might very well need it," Rick Adams said, rising from his seat. "Good to see you again, Mark," he said, side stepping around the struggling young woman and her two attendants. Shaking hands with the big man, Rick marveled at the fact that his own hand, which was fairly large, was completely swallowed up by Mark's huge paw. "The man's a bear," Rick thought to himself. Rick had seen him in action on several occasions, though, and despite his enormous frame, the Mark Haskel was as agile as any man could be, and surprisingly gentle as well. "I've had just about enough of this!" Anna spat when Rick stepped in front of her. "I don't know who you are or what kind of operation you're running here, but if you don't release me this instant, there's gonna be hell to pay!" she threatened bravely. Anna had been trained in self-defense and wasn't afraid to make use of her skills. Rick was willing to be tolerant of misbehavior to a degree, in light of the celebrity of their new Guest, but he certainly was not interested in making a bad impression in the eyes of the Headmaster or his peers. Rick stared evenly at the young woman and said, "We understand that you are accustomed to receiving preferential treatment, Miss Kournikova." His statement seemed to have a calming effect upon the pretty Russian as he glanced covertly at the two Handlers who stood to either side of her. Although Anna had ceased her struggles for the moment, the two men maintained a light hold on her arms. They had, naturally been briefed about their Guest's abilities and training, and as a result they remained focused and ready to take appropriate action if necessary. When the two men saw Rick's unspoken signal, they readied themselves, but not in such a way as to alert or alarm their Guest. "In answer to your question regarding who we are, Miss Kournikova," Rick began. "You are presently a guest of The Youth Training Center, and I am the Senior Handler here second in command only to our Headmaster, Mr. North," Rick explained as he turned and acknowledged his superior with a polite nod. "While you are with us at TYTC, you may rest assured that you will receive very special treatment, from myself and my staff." Rick noted that her expression brightened a little. "If you have any difficulties during your stay with us, I hope that you will let me know right away so that appropriate action can be taken. It is our sincere desire that your time with us be as productive as possible. I hope I am making myself clear, Miss Kournikova." Anna gazed into the young man's dark eyes. He seemed genuine and confident, and Anna felt a certain unexplainable attraction to him. She nodded her understanding. "Excellent," Rick said with a smile. "Then we may begin. Mark if you would take over please," Rick said, glancing in the big man's direction. Then turning back to Anna, "Mark will be working with you throughout your stay with us, Miss Kournikova. Mark has been with us for many years, and I'm certain that you will come to appreciate his considerable talents." With that, Rick moved aside to make room for Mark Haskel. On either side of the comely Russian, her two attendants braced themselves. Anna actually had to tip her head back in order to look into the big man's eyes when he stepped before her. There was no way Anna could have prepared herself for what happened next, and the professional man naturally gave her no warning. As she gazed up into his cool blue eyes, the unthinkable happened. "Good morning, Miss Kournikova," Mark Haskel said in an even tone of voice while maintaining a perfectly neutral expression. He had to stoop ever so slightly in order to reach her, but as casually as one would shake hands with someone, Mark forced his big right hand between the unsuspecting blond's legs and clamped it firmly over the most private area of any girl's body. At first, Anna was too stunned to move. Her facial expression, however, changed fairly quickly from one of curiosity, to astonishment and then soon after, to one of fury. In addition to a startled squeak, Anna's immediate reaction was to take a swing at the overtly presumptuous man. Instantly, however, she realized that her arms were held fast by the two men who flanked her. Then as she felt the man begin to kneed her intimate flesh through the thin fabric of her spandex running pants, Anna tried to lash out with one foot in an attempted front kick. Surprisingly, the blow was blocked most efficiently by the man to her left, who seemed to somehow anticipate her move. Anna shrieked a string of profanities, many of which were in her native tongue, as the big man in white continued to manipulate her where no one had ever before dared touch her without her direct permission. There followed a period where time became compressed. Perhaps because she was in a mild state of shock, Anna would later be unable to clearly recall the exact sequence events which led to her being effectively restrained at the ankles and wrists to a stainless steel frame affectionately know as the "A-Frame", the "A" standing for "Acceptance". Her curses and cries of protest continued until Anna was nearly exhausted and stood gasping for breath and perspiring profusely. Feeling the cool steel of the bar which crossed behind her shoulders, Anna continued to struggle ineffectually against the restraining device for several minutes, glaring malignantly at those men standing within her field of vision. "Let me go!" she snarled at the giant of a man named Mark who, during the process of restraining her, had thankfully dropped his hand from between her legs. But for Anna, the insult remained fresh, and in her mind she could still feel his touch. "Don't you come near me!" she hissed, when in answer to her demands the big man in white stepped closer. So close in fact that as he went about checking the velcro restraint bands at Anna's wrists and elbows, his massive body pressed against hers, causing her to cringe in disgust. "Be still, Miss Kournikova," Mark said, sternly, but not in an unkind way as he adjusted the restraint cuff which bound her right upper arm to the shining horizontal bar of the A-Frame. "You will learn many things during your stay with us, and one of them is manners," Mark said casually. "We have a few simple rules or standards which we expect our Guests to abide by," he explained. "One such standard, number five to be exact, states that Guests shall not speak unless instructed to do so. Do I make myself clear, Miss Kournikova?" Anna stared at the man in utter disbelief, and for the first time in a long time, she was speechless. "We have eight Non-negotiable Standards at The Youth Training Center," Mark went on to explain as he stepped back and made a quick visual inspection of the bands around the young woman's ankles. "And as time goes on, you will become familiar with each and every one of them. And I might add, Miss Kournikova," Mark continued evenly in spite of the vicious look she gave him. "These standards as well as most all of our rules and regulations regarding Guest behavior are not debatable. Disregard for them will not be tolerated," Mark stated unequivocally. Anna Kournikova was not in the habit of taking orders from anyone, and in addition, she was fiercely competitive to the point of being combative at times. So in spite of the fact that she was bound spread-eagled to the four corners of the hateful A-Frame device by her wrists and ankles with additional restraint bands around her arms just above her elbows, Anna refused to submit. She would fight these men to the bitter end. Somehow, some way, she would manage to beat them. "Sooner or later she would break free of their clutches, and then there would be hell to pay!" she silently vowed. Anna, of course, was not alone in these sorts of rebellious sentiments. Adam North had seen these and other such behavioral patterns manifest themselves time and time again in the newly admitted Guests during their Induction Interviews. Many young ladies reacted in exactly the same manner as the young tennis star, with wrathfulness and threats, vulgar language and fits of rage interspersed with tears of dismay, and at times with violence. Others attempted to elicit pity from their Handlers and Attendants, using beguiling pleas and prolonged crying jags in an effort to express their displeasure at being handled against their wills, most for the first time ever. North recalled a pair of twin sisters who to everyone's surprise reacted completely oppositely to their initial indoctrination, and continued to do so throughout their stay at the Center. The Nesbit twins, Marina and Melanie, had been fourteen years old at the time. This is a very impressionable age for a young lady, and widely considered to be the ideal age for a girl to begin the TYTC Program. Breaking protocol, North had elected to administer the "Double I" to the twin girls together rather than one at a time as was the norm. Alex, who was his right hand man in those days had been in charge, so North had little worry that all would go well, which it had, naturally. The only surprise, which hadn't really represented a problem, per se, was the way the two sisters responded so differently to treatment. Marina Nesbit, who was the more precocious of the two siblings, had reacted with the expected alarm and rage usually associated with initial contact. Melanie, the demure sister, on the other hand, had become almost catatonic under the expert touch of the then Senior Handler, basically allowing him to have his way with her without opposition. Two identical twins; two distinctly different initial reactions to the Program. What was interesting moreover, was that although the two girls had a known history of competitiveness with one another, when Marina Nesbit had sensed that her sister's well being was threatened, she'd attempted to come to her aid even at the expense of her own comfort level, demonstrating that a very strong emotional bond existed between the two girls. This bond soon became the focus of a special behavioral study. The daily conditioning routines of the two sisters had been modified such that their performance could be monitored together as well as with separate Handlers. Alone Melanie Nesbit had quickly become the darling of the Center due to her sweet and accommodating nature. However, when the two sisters were brought together under the tutelage of a single Handler, things changed dramatically. Marina, who throughout her program of conditioning, remained reticent and unobliging, oddly enough became more accommodating in a group setting, presumably in order to spare her sibling the perceived emotional stress of being handled against her will. Melanie, who had progressed to the point where she appreciated the attentions of many of her partners at the Center, responded to her sister's unrequested attempts to protect her by becoming even more precocious and seductive. Together the two fourteen year olds were very entertaining indeed. In fact, for several weeks, Adam North had taken the Nesbit sisters under his wing and had shared much of his considerable personal knowledge and experience with the two lovely girls. The TYTC Headmaster sat calmly behind his desk, monitoring the progress of Anna Kournikova's Induction Interview. He watched with pride as his staff members went about systematically removing her clothing. They used EMT style shears to cut away the expensive spandex running attire she'd been picked up in, for as is stated in another of the TYTC Standards, "Guests shall remain disrobed at all times." In other words, the pretty blond tennis star would not be needing her clothing any more after this morning. As North expected after having read her dossier carefully, Miss Kournikova persisted in her rebellious behavior even after having been forcibly stripped. For many young ladies, finding themselves suddenly disrobed among a group of strangers will put a "chink in their armor", so to speak. Being both unclothed and restrained tends to instill a sense of vulnerability in a girl that can evolve into the first turning point along the road to a new self-image. But not so with Anna. In fact, even as her stylish running shoes were being cut from her feet, she stared straight at North with the unmistakable glint of defiance in her green eyes. Adam North wasn't interested in Anna's eyes just now, though. "Take your hands off me, you monsters!" Anna screamed, her accent unmistakable in her present state of unrest. She refused to believe that any of this was happening to her, after all the money she'd spent on security and body guards and self-defense training. But now, in spite of her best efforts to resist, Anna found herself bound hand and foot to an apparatus of obviously evil design and unable to prevent these horrible, disrespectful men from stripping her naked and ruining her expensive running outfit in the process. The fact that they'd actually cut away her clothing incensed Anna almost as much as being forcibly disrobed. "Silence, Miss Kournikova!" Mark ordered in a powerful voice, and to her never ending surprise, the blond tennis star immediately fell silent. She stood blinking stupidly up at the huge man, not knowing what to do next. It took many months of hard work and training to master the Command Tones, and Mark Haskel was one of the best. Considered by many to be a martial art form, voice command inflection was a powerful tool if used properly. The technique required perfect control of voice modulation and could confound and confuse a Guest, rendering her temporarily immobilized for several seconds, giving the Handler or Attendant time to act. As an added benefit, the emotional impact of being suddenly thrust into state of submissiveness with nothing more than a spoken word, was undeniable. In fact, Anna was in the process of considering that very concept when the man put his hand on her again. For several seconds Anna was too stunned to react to the renewed trespass on her person, but as her green eyes began to widen in utter disbelief, the rage welled up within her. "Good morning, Miss Kournikova," Mark Haskel stated for the second time that morning as he separated his fingers into two pairs, sliding each pair over one of the young woman's labia majora. Anna's reaction was tempestuous as expected, but the A-Frame lived up to its reputation and effectively prevented the blond tennis star from injuring herself or her Handler. Mark rested his left hand on the horizontal bar of the A-Frame next to Anna's right elbow and studied her facial expression closely as with his right hand the Handler pressed upward against her substantial labia. He was careful not to lean too close and risk a head butt from the irate young woman as she thrashed and spat and screeched obscenities in Russian. Mark's manual attentions were by no means random. To the contrary, the professional man manipulated Anna's most private flesh in a very systematic manner. Making a mental note regarding the texture and consistency of his subject's pubic covering, Mark continued with the regimen known as the TYTC Standard Greeting. Between upward palpations of the labia majora, the Handler alternately spread his fingers and closed them together, in turn opening and closing the young woman repeatedly. Mark took care not to accidentally allow his fingers to slip between his subject's heavy outer lips until he was ready to enter her. "You bastards!" Anna screamed, her face not six inches from that of her attacker. "Let me go!" she snarled viciously. Totally ignoring her heated outbursts, Mark commented almost casually to his colleagues, "She has an splendid, full coat." He then began to tug playfully at her tight, golden curls, thoroughly incensing and enraging the head strong Russian celebrity. "Did anyone notice that she's trimmed herself into the shape of a heart?" Mark added, smiling at the young blond as he brushed the backs of his fingers gently from side to side over the surface of her pubic fur. "Did you do that for Mr. Fedorov, my dear?" the Handler asked in a condescending tone. "Fuck you!" Anna hissed then spat in the man's face. Mark had lost track of the number of times his angry young charges had spit on him. In fact, he was surprised if they didn't do it at least once during every session of their early training. Mark brought his hand up and wiped the smear of liquid from his cheek with his fingertips. Then while he stared directly into the young woman's wrathful green eyes, he licked the spittle from his fingers and smiled. As predicted, his action left the girl speechless with a mixture of shock and disgust. Then he reached out unexpectedly and placed his hand almost tenderly onto Anna's cheek. "Your `hairdo' is very pretty, my dear," Mark murmured as though the spitting incident never happened. He was forced to jerk his hand away when Anna turned and tried to bite him, but by then the Handler had already scored several emotional points in the cat and mouse game associated with introductory female conditioning. "She's a feisty one. That's for sure," Mark thought to himself as he squatted down in front of the young tennis star. Placing his hands onto the tops of Anna's hips, the Handler pressed inward on her pelvic crests then squeezed the resilient flesh behind them, known affectionately as "love handles". "Broad pelvic structure," Mark stated in a clinical tone, knowing that someone in the room would be taking notes. "Somewhat heavy waisted," the Handler commented, noting Anna's overall physique. "But all in all, a fairly utilitarian anatomy," Mark added almost casually. The young blond remained reasonably still while he examined her pelvis, but when Mark pressed his fingertips to the center of her pubic bone just above the upper edge of Anna's soft, golden heart, she went ballistic. Screeching and cursing at the top of her lungs, the irate young woman twisted her body and thrashed her hips from side to side within the limits the A-Frame would allow, making it rather difficult for Mark to finish his inspection. Turning to Rick Adams, the big Handler said, "I think we'd better Field CAP her, or we're gonna be here all day." "I agree," Rick replied and rose from his seat. "And while you're up, let's get her started on Thelazine," Mark added as his colleague headed for a cabinet on the far side of the office. "You're the boss," Rick responded, smiling over his shoulder at his fellow Handler. Meanwhile Mark did his best to complete his immediate task of determining the size of Anna's pubic arch which was an integral part of the process involved in assessing a girl's "Carrying Capacity". Kneeling before her and working from the center Mark traced in one direction along the line of tight curls with his fingers, compressing the resilient flesh against the gracefully curving structure beneath until he reached her thigh. Then he repeated the procedure in the opposite direction. Next Mark placed the tip of his index finger at the top center of Anna's pubic covering, and with his thumb he located the top of Anna's carnal cleft. "Wow! Nearly two inches," the Handler muttered to himself, estimating the distance between. "Excellent breadth and prominence," Mark reported for the record. From across the room Rick Adams called to his partner who was still kneeling in front of the thrashing blond. "What size do you want to start her on," Mark?" Rick turned and looked at the row of torpedo shaped devices arranged neatly by order of size on the middle shelf of the supply cabinet. While he awaited Mark's reply, Rick took one of the many small, cylindrical auto-injectors located on the top shelf and dropped it into the top pocket of his coveralls. Mark knew full well the girl would react badly to his next action, but it simply had to be done. The C.A.P. Device is an extremely effective training aid provided the correct size is used. Granted, Miss Kournikova would be measured much more thoroughly later on and if necessary, she would be re-sized accordingly, but for now a rough estimate was required. Seated at his desk, Adam North felt a tremendous sense of pride as he watched the dedicated men of his staff function like a well oiled machine. Men such as these were as rare now-a-days as they were exceptional, and it did his heart good to see them work closely as a team. Anticipating his colleague's needs, Curtis stepped up behind the young woman, and grasped her firmly by the hips. "What the...?" Anna croaked hoarsely as she turned and stared at the man behind her. At that exact moment while the young blond was distracted by Curtis, Mark reached between her legs. With practiced ease he located her clitoral hood with his thumb. Then sliding the tip of his first finger back and between the girl's ample buttocks, Mark quickly found Anna's puckered anal portal. "Let's try a size six," Mark shouted above the caterwauling that continued even after he removed his hand from the girl. "Size six it is," Rick responded good naturedly and reached for one of the small, black instruments in the cabinet. Glancing at the butt end of the little torpedo, Rick noted the numeral six embossed in the specially formulated composite material. This number represents the distance, in inches, between a young lady's clitoris and her anus which is how the C.A.P. Devices are sized. Their diameter varies according to their length such that the change in volume of one size CAP to the next remains consistent. The size six CAP is approximately three quarters of an inch in diameter at its largest section. [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 and use of these extraordinary devices plays a major role in the conditioning program of every Guest of the Center. - SM] Having completed his examination of the nineteen year old in the areas of her anatomy below her waist, Mark regained his feet with a noticeable groan and cracking of his knees. Turning to the Headmaster the big Handler shrugged his broad shoulders. "It's hell getting old," he said with a grin. "You're doing an outstanding job," Adam North said, complimenting the man. North's personnel management skills were second to none, and all of his staff members respected and admired him. Anna's most recent tirade subsided to a degree once the two monsters took their hands off of her. She was shaken by the outrageous invasion on her person, but her spirit was far from broken. "These people are completely insane," she thought to herself as she listened to the big man and the one behind the desk exchange pleasantries as though they were simply passing the time of day. Although her situation appeared grave, to say the least, Anna remained confident that she would eventually prevail over these demonic maniacs. If nothing else, the authorities had to be searching for her at this very moment, and sooner or later she would doubtlessly be found and freed. "Then I'll make them all pay for their insults and perversions," she silently vowed. Anna was a wealthy young woman, and she'd met a lot of very influential people. A couple of names came to mind as she stood bound to the hateful A-Frame, awaiting the next round of the match. Names of men who associated in circles that were, shall we say, frowned upon by the gentry of South Florida. These men were not to be toyed with except in ways that only a member of the "fairer sex" would dare, and over the years the comely Russian had become an expert at wielding "the power of pretty". Anna felt a renewed sense of power and confidence as she watched the giant of a man turn toward her. "Dig deep, Murzik," she heard her tennis coach say. "Let's have a look at these," the big man in white said, reaching for her. "They look larger on TV," Mark said with a smirk as he slid his hands beneath Anna's breasts and hefted the two golden orbs indifferently. "Obviously you sunbathe in the nude, my dear," the Handler said, as he slid his thumbs up over the areolae and then pressed inward on the nipples. Marc noted that there wasn't a tan line on her. "That's most fortunate, Miss Kournikova," the man behind the big desk added with a wry smile. Momentarily disregarding her assailant, Anna stared at him in disbelief. She had correctly assumed that this was the man in charge. He hadn't said much thus far, but he'd taken a keen interest in every detail of the atrocities the others perpetrated upon her. "Mr. North," Anna reminded herself. She would not forget that name, and when the time came, she would make arrangements with her South Florida "acquaintances" to have Mr. North dealt with in a suitable fashion. Mark clearly recognized the expression of calculated hatred on her face as the blond tennis star stared past him at his boss. "My, my, but aren't we the head strong one," Mark thought to himself. She would be a challenge, but Mark enjoyed a challenge. Even as he hefted her nicely rounded breasts, noting their weight and composition, the lovely Russian girl raised her eyes confidently. "She's a proud one, alright," Mark noted. "She's practically ignoring me," the big Handler marveled as he watched Anna watch his boss. He considered applying a bit more pressure to the firmer mammary glands he felt beneath the fatty breast tissue in an effort to gain her attention, but thought better of it. Mark knew that in a matter of minutes Anna would be given her first dose of the wonder drug, Thelazine, and soon thereafter she would become much more attuned to her "inner female". "I beg your pardon," Anna responded to Adam North's comment. Her voice was clear and steady, surprising even Mark. "I said it's fortunate that you appear to be accustomed to spending time in the nude, Miss Kournikova," the Headmaster repeated patiently. "And w..why is that?" Anna retorted, wincing slightly when Mark pinched the lower edge of her right areola. Steeling herself, the blond athlete disregarded Mark's attentions and concentrated on the man behind the desk. She was down love thirty and needed to keep her wits about her. Adam North, as was his habit, paused in silence as he regarded the headstrong young blond. North, like every man in the employ of the Center, had through exhaustive study and training, developed the ability to read a woman's body language like one would read the morning newspaper. He too noticed the unmistakable glint of challenge in the girl's eye and recognized the air of confidence in her stance. So far, Miss Anna Kournikova was proving to be as defiant as he'd anticipated, but Adam North wasn't at all worried. Over the years he'd witnessed some very impressive attempts at resistance. Bravery and belligerence, willfulness and wanton hostility, yes he'd definitely seen it all. North had been struck and spat upon, kicked, scratched and bitten, but in the end, each and every one of his contentious young ladies had come around. At times even Adam North marveled at the effectiveness of the TYTC Program, but "the proof was in the pudding," as they say. Since 1986, The Youth Training Center had enlightened literally hundreds of young women of all ages, re-acquainting them with their "inner female" and restoring them to sanity and normality. With the exception of a single unanticipated situation which reared its ugly head about a year ago, the TYTC record of achievement remained unblemished. The afore mentioned incident involved the recall of a group of Guests and was dealt with promptly and efficiently to the satisfaction of all concerned parties. Although the Center's methodology had undergone many changes through the years, thanks in part to the development of some truly remarkable systems and devices, the underlying premise remained the same. Unshakably based in doctrine which has withstood the test of time, the TYTC Mission Statement says it all: "We believe that today's `modern woman' has become misaligned. Everything we see in the media today places the physical beauty of the female of our species upon an unreachable pedestal. Males, on the other hand, are frequently portrayed as buffoons and are the only societal group remaining today whom it is politically correct to ridicule. It is our mission to remedy this embarrassing situation and restore the female to her rightful position in society. Our methods are not cruel. Not a single one of our Guests has ever been harmed. Our training philosophy is based upon the following premise: Given a suitable amount of sexual impetus by a partner, partners or apparatus, employing the proper techniques, for an adequate period of time, any female, regardless of the circumstances of her involvement with said partner, will eventually become an active and willing participant in the relationship." Armed with these immutable truths, the dedicated men and recently, a few women, of The Youth Training Center perform their duties and fulfill their individual callings with conviction and assuredness. Adam North had every right to marvel at the TYTC Program, for it was indeed marvelous. "Because, my dear Miss Kournikova," the TYTC Headmaster began, resting his elbows on his desk for effect. "For the next few months, or until such a time as we decide that you are ready to begin your new life, you will remain disrobed at all times." Anticipating an argument, North held up his hand, cutting the young woman off in mid breath. "I realize that much of what has been said thus far sounds like madness to you, but in a surprisingly short period of time I feel certain that you will come to appreciate our methods and see the wisdom behind our teachings." Again, the Headmaster paused. Then with a warm smile he said, "Welcome, Miss Kournikova, to our TYTC family." Following his customary thoughtful pause Adam North spoke to his confederate in a more businesslike tone of voice. "You may proceed, Mark." Mark in turn glanced at Rick Adams who had discretely positioned himself directly behind the blond tennis star. An unspoken message passed between the two professional men, and as Mark grasped Anna's nipples in his powerful fingers, Rick's hand dropped behind her. Anna who was still wrestling with the ominous words spoken by the Headmaster, never saw it coming. "Months!" she repeated over and over in her head. "Months, he said! I'm going to be held prisoner in this madhouse for months!" Anna considered as the first inklings of trepidation crept into her heart like icy fingers. Mark noted the signs of apprehension in the girl's facial expression and knew that he and his associates were on the right track. Still holding her by the nipples, Mark reminded himself, "She's no different than any other female," and began to shake Anna's shapely breasts rapidly from side to side. He made a mental note to schedule her for an EFIRS evaluation, based upon the consistency of her breast mass, as he watched the rage flash in her green eyes. "That's it, little one. Look this way," Mark thought. "Just one more second..." "Snick" It was the distinctive sound made by the auto-injector as it discharged its contents into the firm flesh of the girl's right buttock, and it was followed as usual by a surprised squeak from the handsome blond Guest. Turning quickly, Anna saw the man named Rick drop the spent instrument into his breast pocket. When he only smiled at her and didn't speak, Anna snapped her head around and faced the big man in front of her. Bristling with indignation, the tennis star fairly hissed at Mark. "Drugs! You cowards are gonna use drugs on me." Then she shot her gaze about the big office, lancing each of the perverted monsters in white with an icy stare. She felt panic swell in her heart and mind as she waited to swoon. "Would they rape her? Would they all have their way with her?" Anna struggled to control herself and regain her composure. She'd had to do it innumerable times on the tennis court, and once again Anna had to dig deep, forcing herself to calm down enough to think. Suddenly Anna imagined herself lying unconscious on the floor. Between her widely splayed legs a figure in white hammered away at her while others waited their turn in a line that stretched off into infinity. Then to her dismay, the dreamscape shifted and Anna saw herself awaken and reach out to her phantom lover. The first hint of self-doubt trickled into her psyche as Anna envisioned herself beginning to participate in the nightmare coupling. Rolling her hips wantonly, she encouraged her devil in white, pulling him closer and locking her legs around him. All the while Adam North, the head demon of them all sat silently at his dream desk, observing the proceedings and smiling knowingly as Anna witnessed herself becoming increasingly more aroused. Those early twinges of self-doubt forming at the roots of Anna's subconscious were just beginning to evolve into a healthy, budding sense of self-loathing when the nineteen year old tennis star was abruptly snapped back into the present by the feeling of a man's hand between her thighs. "Welcome back, Miss Kournikova," Mark said politely as he parted his fingers and pressed upward on either side of her carnal cleft, compressing the resilient flesh of her meaty labia majora. Based upon the initial findings of his previous external tactile examination of the young Russian, Mark judged that Anna had a reasonably good "carrying capacity", and soon he would begin the internal portion of her induction interview which would reveal a good bit more about the young lady. Later, of course, she would undergo a more extensive internal examination at which time the precise volume of each of Anna's abdominal passages would be accurately measured, using a brand new device known as the Portal Micrometer, a state of the art version of the old Vaginal Micrometer. Her individual passage volumes would then be added together and recorded in her permanent file as her initial total passage volume, expressed in cubic centimeters. This benchmark data would be used to determine Anna's training routines. The frequency that she would be expected to accept partners each day, be they human or mechanical, would then be adjusted up or down accordingly. The goal with Anna, as with every Guest of the Center, is to systematically increase her "carrying capacity", which naturally means expanding her passage volume. However, as always when dealing with the female of our species, there are other factors which must be taken into account. "Elementary," you say. "Why not simply give the girl numerous opportunities each day to host `well endowed' lovers," you ask? Consider this. Would it be in anyone's best interest for The Youth Training Center to turn out fully functional females, accommodating in every way, but who were so stretched out of shape from overuse that coupling with one of them would be like making love to a bucket of hot mayonnaise? We think not. Enter into the formula, muscle tone. To make a suitable partner who is capable of going the distance, so to speak, a young lady must be taught the finer points of muscle control. To a degree vaginal and anal muscle application comes naturally to a girl, but the strength of her internal grip and the knowledge and willingness to use it effectively are achieved only with patient tutoring and practice...practice...practice. Using a wide variety of training regimens, including Kegel exercise as well as several other interesting routines developed by the TYTC staff, the Guests at the Center are taught to use their God given talents both efficiently and productively, while maintaining muscular fitness and stamina. Naturally their progress must be monitored and recorded, so once again the Portal Micrometer is used to collect the girls' personal measurements. Internal Grip Strength, or IGS, is measured weekly in both passages, and the readings compared with each other as well as with benchmark data. Additionally, much like a pressurized cylinder is hydrostatically tested, the Guests' muscle resilience and elasticity, commonly referred to as muscle memory or "M&M's", is closely monitored. Of course, passage volume is checked on a regular basis as well, and when combined with grip strength and muscle memory we can decide a female's true Carrying Capacity. Conversely, when viewed independently, these personal measurements can be used to track a young lady's progress or lack thereof. Take for example a Guest who exhibits increased passage volume with decreased IGS readings and low M&M's. Obviously she's spending too much time in the sack and not enough in the gymnasium. On the other hand, suppose a young lady shows progress in the area of passage volume, and she has acceptable IGS numbers from one week to the next. However, when our girl is examined for muscle tone she comes up with low M&M's. What would you prescribe for her? If you suggested that she take regular night partners, or perhaps that she be required to carry a Kegel weight during her waking hours, then you've done your homework. What our hypothetical young lady lacks is stamina. She scores well on volume, and her grip strength is good, but she will undoubtedly fall short if you intend to take her for an extended ride. Thus we see that accurate measurement, the routine collection of fresh data, and meticulous record keeping of personal information on each and every Guest who walks or is carried through the doors of The Youth Training Center is absolutely crucial to the overall re-education process. Checking his day timer, Adam North noted that Miss Kournikova was scheduled for personal measurement and CAP sizing that afternoon. However, as is sometimes the case, especially when a young lady is particularly unmanageable during her Induction Interview as Miss Kournikova had been thus far, at the request of her Handler she would be CAP'd on the spot. For this reason, North kept a full compliment of CAP Devices in every available size in the supply cabinet in his office. Adam North looked on as Rick Adams and Mark Haskel worked with the stubborn nineteen year old tennis star. "It's good to see that Rick is still so much at home with the Guests," North thought to himself as he admired the ease with which his second in command handled himself around the head strong Russian. He'd administered her dose of Thelazine at precisely the right moment, and presently he stood by with Anna's CAP Device, ready to install it when Mark Haskel gave him the signal. "Mark's a good man," North mused as he watched the Handler employ the Standard Greeting technique with remarkable dexterity. Adam often wondered how a man of Mark's size and weight could move with such exceptional swiftness and grace, but after watching him in action on more than one occasion, North remained impressed with the big man's speed and agility. Anna, on the other hand, was not at all impressed with Mark. In fact, she was beginning to detest the big man and had already added Mark to her mental list of people she would mention to her South Florida "acquaintances". No sooner had she snapped out of her brief but hideous nightmare than the man jammed his big paw between her legs again. The discovery that whatever the drug was that the other man had injected into her butt wasn't going to render her unconscious offered little consolation to Anna, since she quickly realized that as a consequence, she would have to endure the atrocities performed on her person by these deranged men in a fully conscious state. "God damn you, you inhuman pig!" Anna shrieked at the big man in Russian. His hand was driving her crazy, the way he kept opening and closing her down there with his fingers. Each time Mark parted her lips, Anna felt a draft of cool air, for unbeknownst to her at the time, she was already beginning to self-lubricate thanks to the effects of Thelazine. One of the most desirable side effects of the miraculous compound was that it caused the Bartholin's and hymen glands, which are responsible for the production of lubricating mucous needed in the vagina during intercourse, to make the jump to light speed. The "Thelazine Effect", however, tended to be extremely subtle at first. So subtle, in fact, that a Guest rarely noticed the delicate changes to her person, both physiological and emotional. With the new, faster acting compound the initial effects such as increased production of vaginal mucous, could begin in as little as ten minutes following injection. Then like the original "flavor" of this superb medication, its influence gradually gained strength over time. However, due to the very nature of the drug, the subtle changes it wrought in the Guests generally remained unrecognized. Because of this particular quality, emotional inroads of inestimable value could be achieved in a surprisingly short period of time. [Another Author's Note: Chapter 11 "Managers" contains an excellent description of Thelazine and its remarkable effectiveness.] "Be still, Miss Kournikova," Mark spoke in a steady voice. She certainly was a scrapper. That much was certain, and if it hadn't been for his years of experience, Mark might have lost her, for Anna Kournikova was in excellent physical condition. As it stood, though, the talented Handler easily stayed with the enraged teenager. Each time she tried to remove herself from harm's way by twisting her hips or by thrashing back and forth or side to side against the restraints of the A-Frame, Mark moved with her. It was almost as if he could read her mind, and this coupled with his infernal politeness was utterly infuriating to Anna, causing her to fight him that much harder. "Settle down, please, my dear girl. You're going to hurt yourself, if you're not careful," Mark said to the struggling blond. His voice was filled with genuine concern, whereas his right hand was filled with Anna. Parting his fingers, he spread her open again, then he pushed upward against her several times, repeatedly compressing the teenager's resilient outer lips between his fingertips and her pelvic bones. Watching her face closely, Mark noted the telltale flare of her nostrils and the first glint of bewilderment in her green eyes just before she spat on him for the third or forth time. Miss Kournikova was becoming aroused. "F...fuck off, you sick bastard," Anna hissed in English this time as a strong involuntary tremor passed through her body. Mark returned the Russian girl's profane remark with a patronizing smile as he pressed his fingers together, squeezing her heavy labia between them. A quantity of warm, silky fluid seeped from within the unhappy teenager and onto Marks fingers which he promptly rubbed into her lush golden pubic curls. Anna was ready, Mark decided at last, so with no further ado, the big Handler stared directly into her green eyes. "She knows something is about to happen," Mark thought to himself. He could see it in her face as plain as day. A shuddering exhale of breath escaped the pretty blond tennis star as his thick middle finger slid effortlessly up into the cradle of her femininity. Mark did everything by the books, so naturally his technique was perfect. Following the well documented entry protocols to the letter, Marks initial foray into Anna was both fluid and thorough. In one uniform motion he propelled his middle finger up into her vagina until his other fingers pressed firmly upward against her labia majora, such that the blond was completely compromised. Gazing into her startled green eyes, Mark could plainly see the beginnings of the realization that she had been taken against her will and that there was nothing she could do about it. Mark smiled at Anna and was about to withdraw his finger in preparation for the remainder of the entry protocol when suddenly he felt her contract tightly around his invading digit. A look of surprise and dismay came over Anna as a hot flush of blood shot up her neck and into her cheeks like mercury up a thermometer. Her hands clutched at the horizontal rail of the A-Frame and she began to cast her gaze about the room almost desperately in an effort to avoid eye contact with the man in front of her. Mark pulled his finger back to the first knuckle which triggered as second powerful vaginal contraction, followed closely by another, then another as Anna threw her head back and gasped. "Well I'll be," Mark muttered. Then in a much louder voice, for the benefit of his colleagues, he stated with a soft chuckle, "Our little lady's going to cum for us. I do believe." Anna looked quickly in Mark's direction with a pleading expression painted upon her flushed face. Her mind was in a total turmoil. She simply couldn't believe this was happening to her, but as she opened her mouth to speak, to beg the man not to go any farther, the Handler chose that very moment to deliver the three to four shallow and rapid testing thrusts required by the entry protocol. That was all it took to tip Anna over the edge. Granted she generally achieved orgasm with reasonable ease, but the stunned blond celebrity would never have believed, given the circumstances of her predicament, that she would become aroused sexually by this monster, let alone reach climax. She was mistaken, of course. It was as though fire leapt from the man's hand and crackled like static electricity throughout Anna's entire being. Her mind seemed to go blank momentarily as she threw her head back and gave a most unladylike gurgling groan. Anna's broad hips pumped two or three times, and then as Mark pushed his finger fully into her once again, the young blond rose up onto the balls of her feet and trembled violently from head to toe, inside and out, as an orgasm of epic proportions washed over and through her like a hot tsunami. Mark kept his hand perfectly still between her trembling thighs, allowing the young tennis star to service herself on his finger while her orgasm ran its course. The entire episode took several minutes and left Anna exhausted and out of breath. It also left her with a deep sense of bewilderment, dismay and the unsettling realization that her own body had betrayed her. For the fact of the matter was quite clear. These horrible men had abducted her, drugged her and for all intents and purposes, were in the process of gang raping her. Anna had done her utmost to resist their wicked advances and to fight them at every turn, but in spite of her best efforts she had actually become aroused to the point of climax in spite of her deplorable predicament. This realization utterly floored Anna. And although she possessed amazing strength of will and depth of character, the Russian tennis celebrity felt her resolve begin to slip. Mark could see it in her eyes. And as her contractions began to subside, he slowly extracted his thick middle finger from the girl's vagina. "Look at me, please, Miss Kournikova," he was forced to instruct the unhappy blond, for she was reluctant now to meet his gaze. Just a very few minutes ago her green eyes had been filled with willfulness and contempt, but now as Mark began to slowly palpate her heavy labia once again, rubbing his hand firmly back and forth between her legs, the Handler noted a certain amount of uncertainty, even timidity in her gaze when at last she raised her eyes to his. It was a good sign for this was indicative of the blossoming of self-doubt. As the weeks and months went by, Anna Kournikova, like all the Guests at the Center would experience a steady erosion of her pre-conceived self-image. In time, her self-confidence and willfulness would gradually be sapped away, to be replaced in the end by acquiescence and submissiveness. Until such a time as her training was complete, Anna would continue to resist these changes, but Mark knew, as did everyone at TYTC, that the headstrong blond bombshell would begin to participate more and more with each passing day. "We're going to have to work on these incontinent orgasms, Miss Kournikova," Mark stated evenly as he raised his hand up to inspect his fingers. A slight trace of moisture glistened on his middle finger, but nothing of any consequence yet. "Do you always cum so quickly, my dear?" Mark asked as though he were asking Anna the time of day. "Go to hell!" Anna muttered, refusing to look at him. Although as she stood staring at the floor in front of her, a heated blush rose in the blond tennis star's neck and cheeks, adding to and enhancing her existing glow of post-orgasmic radiance. Mark made another mental note, later to be entered into her permanent file. "Handlers should exercise caution and employ strict Arousal and Climax Management protocols when working with Miss Kournikova. She must only be allowed to climax under carefully controlled conditions, and even then she should be monitored closely for the signs and symptoms of Emotional Free Radical Stimulation (EFIRS). "Look at me, Miss Kournikova," Mark spoke employing a hint of Command Intonation in his voice. Still she kept her gaze stubbornly averted. Placing three fingers beneath her chin, the powerful Handler raised her face to his with practically no effort at all. When Anna tried to look away, he grasped her face in his big hand and forced her eyes back to his. Mark once again pressed his body against that of the young Russian athlete, pushing her back against the cold steel bar that crossed behind her shoulders. Their noses almost touching, Mark stared into Anna's green eyes, noting the undisguised loathing therein. "Guests shall maintain direct eye contact with their partner or partners while being attended to," Mark stated, reciting the Sixth Standard with a patronizing smile. "Fuck you!" Anna hissed. Then abruptly jerking her chin from Mark's grasp, she stared directly at Adam North and spoke with venomous conviction. "Fuck you all!" It was all the men could do to control themselves. Ted and Curtis were forced to look away in an effort to maintain their composure. Rick Adams brought his hand to his mouth and looked in the Headmaster's direction. Adam North remained silent for a moment, and then with legendary acumen he responded. "Indeed you will, Miss Kournikova. Indeed you will." Rick Adams, only barely maintaining control, looked from North's dead pan expression into the eyes of the head strong young Russian. The office was suddenly hushed and still. Just seconds ago, in spite of her rather dire predicament, Miss Kournikova had managed an air of confidence and even contempt when she addressed the Headmaster of The Youth Training Center. But as the silence deteriorated first into guarded chuckles and then finally into raucous guffaws, Anna felt her resolve start to slip away. "Look at me, Miss Kournikova," Mark ordered, catching Anna with her guard down. Her eyes snapped to his before she could stop herself, and at that exact moment the big Handler entered her again. "Nnngghh!" Anna groaned and raised up onto the balls of her feet, straining against the diabolical A-Frame. Instead of the customary fury she'd exhibited thus far, the pretty blond's face was now a mask of shock and dismay. Mark's expression, on the other hand, remained utterly neutral as he delved even deeper than before into the core of Anna's femininity with his highly educated digit. Inexplicably the big Handler held Anna in his gaze as helpless as a deer in a hunter's jack light as he began a more thorough internal examination. Anna was no stranger to sex. In fact she'd used it quite effectively on more than one occasion to influence the right people and achieve her objectives, but always she maintained the upper hand. Anna called the shots, doling out her charms or withholding them as she deemed appropriate. But something was entirely wrong here. Granted, she tended to climax easily, but at the hands of a hulking rapist while his perverted friends watched and laughed? Something was definitely wrong here. This hulking rapist knew just where to touch her. Even now as Anna felt his repulsive finger dip and probe, the big man in white managed to locate places inside of her that no one had ever touched before. Exquisite places, deeply female places which, in spite of the repugnance she held for him in her very soul, would make Anna's big green eyes suddenly grow wide with startled wonder. She despised what he was doing to her, but beneath her hatred of the man who defiled her, was a blossoming sense of self doubt which crept slowly but inexorably into her psyche. Wasn't she at least partially to blame? "She was the one who had the orgasm, after all," she reminded herself subconsciously. "Get your hands off me, you depraved monster!" Anna's mind screamed, and then in the next breath the voice of little Murzik would whisper, "Touch me there. Oh, please touch me there!" And when he did, Anna's "inner female" would cry out, seemingly with volcanic intensity in a voice that would not be denied, oozing around her like warm mud and obliterating cognizant thought. Mark hooked his finger forward ever so slightly then pushed upward firmly in the direction of her pubic bone. He smiled knowingly when Anna's lips parted slightly, and she inhaled a short hissing breath through her teeth. Even without the telltale tremors which passed unbidden through the bewildered blond with ever increasing frequency, the Handler was able to keep tabs on Anna's level of arousal. Mark had again placed his free hand onto the horizontal bar just behind Anna's right shoulder, his face mere inches from hers. Anna's eyes were deep pools of smoldering emerald that flickered and flashed each time he shifted his finger. Mark's training allowed him to gaze into those emerald pools and discover secrets hidden deep down. Through those windows to her soul the professional man witnessed the dialog between Anna and her "inner female" - the doubts and the fears, the fire and the passion. And thanks to the wonder drug, Thelazine, urging her to acknowledge those songs that her body was singing, Anna began to gaze into that fire. Mark monitored her facial expressions and bodily responses very closely. He had no intention of allowing the girl to achieve another orgasm. He'd allowed her previous climax to proceed partly for the amusement of his colleagues, but primarily to introduce the arrogant, blond teenager to the concept of self-betrayal which points the way down the path toward submission. There was no doubt in Mark's mind that her injection of Thelazine had kicked in. Less than fifteen minutes ago, Anna Kournikova had spat in his face when he touched her, and now he went about his internal examination of the young Russian girl virtually unimpeded. Additionally she'd begun to produce an abundance of vaginal mucous, allowing him unfettered access to the more remote reaches of her reproductive anatomy. Mark tried two fingers which she accepted without complaint. Her eyes were beginning to take on that muzzy, preoccupied look indicative of the early stages of Womb Centering. Mark knew that he was skating on rather thin ice, when the comely blond moaned softly and then leaned her cheek against his forearm. She was getting close again, and as a result, Mark took great care to keep his hand clear of her clitoral area as he pushed both his middle and ring fingers deeply into her vagina and held fast. Mark was looking for something that should have occurred naturally by now, and that, of course, was a vaginal contraction. "Nothing," the Handler muttered to himself after a full minute had passed. "I beg your pardon?" Rick Adams spoke up from his position directly behind blond teenager. He toyed with a black, torpedo shaped device in his right hand, rolling it back and forth between his thumb and four fingers. Soon it would belong to Anna, but not until Mark called for it. "It appears that although Miss Kournikova is a renowned athlete and keeps herself in excellent physical shape on the outside, she has what I call a "Lazy Vagina"," Mark advised the group. His comment got Anna's attention, if nothing else and helped to clear the cobwebs a little. Lifting her head, she stared at him scornfully. She was about to speak, but Mark cut her off with only a raised hand and a harsh look. "Progress," Adam North thought to himself. Pushing his fingers firmly up into her, the Handler looked the Russian blond directly in the eye and said, "Squeeze my fingers, Miss Kournikova." "What?" Anna responded indignantly. With each passing second her thoughts seemed to be getting more organized. "Screw you," she hissed in disgust, her fiery temper returning rapidly. Such are the effects of Thelazine. Unlike an aphrodisiac which arouses or increases sexual drive, the phenomenal compound developed in the TYTC Labs, acts more like a traffic cop than a fire engine. When physical stimulation of a sexual nature occurs, Thelazine opens the freeway, allowing those impulses to speed directly to the pleasure centers of the brain. At the same time, it holds back unnecessary traffic, be it emotional or physical, in order to guarantee a clear path for the impetus that really matters. In short, Thelazine allows a young lady to hear those natural signals that her body sends to her mind more clearly, with far less interference and distraction. When sexual stimulation is discontinued the "traffic cop" allows other traffic back onto the freeway, and "normal" female thought patterns resume, usually leaving the subject in a temporary state of mild disbelief and confusion. That is where Anna found herself when the perverted white clad monster made his revolting request. "What the hell, happened to me?" she wondered and not for the last time. Mark, of course, knew that by holding his hand perfectly still, the Thelazine Effect would be temporarily lessened, and would quite possibly cause the girl to become agitated again, but he needed her undivided attention to complete his examination. It was a simple request, but one that most Guests in the early days of their training consider to be both repugnant and demeaning. The demeaning part, Mark could understand, but repugnant? "It's a perfectly natural bodily function," Mark reasoned. In any case, he had a job to do, and unless they wanted to be here all day, the stubborn tennis star would have to cooperate. "Squeeze my fingers, please, Miss Kournikova," Mark repeated, giving her a second chance. After all, she was Anna Kournikova. The Handler waited patiently with his two fingers ensconced in the warm confines of the girl's vaginal passage. While he waited, Mark assessed some of her other attributes even though she would undergo more precise tests later. Her vaginal temperature seemed normal. Mucous production both before and following her initial Thelazine dosage appeared to be above average. Passage volume, at least vaginally seemed adequate, of course it was hard to tell with only two fingers. Her vaginal M&M's (Muscle Memory) proved to be acceptable. Earlier when Mark tried stretching her a little by spreading his fingers apart inside her birth canal, she'd regained her original diameter in a suitably short period of time. Mark decided that, all things considered, Miss Kournikova was quite serviceable and would make a suitable lover after receiving the proper training, naturally. Furthermore, that very training would take care of her "Lazy Vagina". Anna wasn't the first young lady Mark had encountered with this problem, and he firmly believed that the condition was a direct result of a lack of use. Interestingly enough it seemed to appear predominantly in females with more willful dispositions. In any case, the problem is easily solved. Muscles that go unused become weak and flabby. It's as simple as that. All a girl needs is exercise. Mark was losing patience with her. Anna was about to learn that the request of a TYTC Handler is not to be taken lightly, nor is it up for debate. Her lesson would begin by Mark taking her on an in depth tour of the female reproductive anatomy and introducing her to one of the many special points of interest that most females don't even know exist. Those women who do know about some of these places would rather they didn't. One such spot is located at the very back of the birth canal just below and posterior to the fornix. It's a long reach on a good day and can be difficult to find for someone lacking the proper training. Additionally, this particular point is far easier to reach by approaching the vaginal passage from the rear. In fact, there were only a few individuals in the employ of The Youth Training Center today who could effectively palpate this area using a front entry, let alone possess the strength and dexterity to utilize this pressure point to its full potential. Anna was fortunate because, as she'd already discovered, Mark Haskel's hands were quite large and his fingers very long and powerful, and as fate would have it, it was Mark Haskel who first attempted and later perfected the use of this particular "sweet spot". "Squeeze my fingers, Miss Kournikova," Mark ordered. His tone of voice was different somehow, and it caught Anna's attention, but still she chose to ignore his request. Mark gave her no warning, and it all happened so quickly that Anna was still in the process of dreaming up a scathing remark to fire back at the man, when abruptly she found herself hanging by her arms from the horizontal bar of the A-Frame, breathless and very close to fainting. It took about a half a minute for what had been a mind blinding nova of pain in her lower back to subside. Anna thought that surely one of the ogres standing behind her had kicked her in the spine with a steel towed work boot. An aftershock coursed up her back and down the backs of her thighs when she tried unsuccessfully to regain her feet, and again she dropped and hung by her arms. Standing quietly in front of her, Mark Haskel waited patiently for Anna to recover sufficiently to stand, albeit still attached spread-eagle to the A-Frame. Without a word, the Handler stepped forward and inserted the same two fingers into Anna's vagina, causing her body to stiffen reflexively in the expectation of further pain. Mark gave Anna a moment to catch her breath while he pushed his big fingers up into her to the hilts. "Squeeze my fingers, Miss Kournikova," he said in an almost conversational tone of voice. Anna wanted more than anything on Earth to defy the man and to spit in his ugly face or, given the opportunity, maybe bite his ear off. Unfortunately she didn't think that she would survive a second attack like the first. She wasn't even certain exactly what he'd done to her, but she was reasonably certain that she didn't wish to repeat the experience. Steeling herself like she'd had to do so many times in competition, Anna Kournikova dug deep. She gritted her teeth, swallowed her pride and... "Again, and a little harder this time please," Mark commented matter-of-factly after Anna's first attempt. If the truth be known it had been a puny effort at best. Anna reluctantly tried again. She couldn't remember ever having been ordered by a man to do anything even remotely as dehumanizing as this. "Pretend you're using the bathroom, Miss Kournikova, and suddenly you wish to stop," Mark coached, further humiliating the blond teenage celebrity. It's practically the same muscle group, I promise you. One more try, and then we'll move on," Mark assured her and wiggled his fingers a little. Anna couldn't believe this was happening to her. It had to be some kind of fiendish nightmare or something, and sooner or later she would awaken and all of this evil perversion would be gone - all of it just a bad dream. Unfortunately, Anna was pretty darn sure she wasn't imagining the two large fingers that were inserted into her vagina. She bore down. "Internal Grip Strength (IGS) is well below average," Mark stated for the record. Glancing at Rick Adams, the big Handler then said, "I recommend that Miss Kournikova be started on Kegel weight program right away." Rick nodded his approval, and at the same time the two men exchanged an unspoken plan. "We're almost finished here, Miss Kournikova," Mark said as he unexpectedly began to slowly fuck her with his two fingers. Her surprise registered quickly on her handsome face and in her green eyes. Anna opened her mouth to make some remark, but only a low moan came out as Mark applied firm pressure with his thumb to the small hood of skin which shrouded her clitoris. Almost immediately as the Handler began to swirl his thumb in tight circles, the "traffic cop" blew his whistle, signaling rush hour. As Mark continued to move his fingers in and out with a slow, even cadence, the first of many wet, snapping sounds escaped from between Anna's thighs. Mark heard it and smiled. Anna heard it and groaned as her spirits took another dive. Rick heard it and nodded as he applied a dollop of K-Y Jelly to the blunt end of Anna's size six CAP Device. Sizzling waves of pure delight leapt from the fingers of the big man in white and onto the neurological super highway provided by the Thelazine which by now had reached its full effectiveness. Anna saw the others gathered around her but no longer comprehended their significance. She heard sounds around her and behind her and even snippets of conversation but nothing that was said made sense anymore. Nothing was getting through. Only the white fire in her belly got into the fast lane, assaulting Anna's conscious mind. A moment later Anna sensed a strange touch on her right hip - someone's hand - but its significance was effectively shunted onto a side street. Then as though from a great distance, Anna felt a new sensation of pressure. It didn't hurt exactly, but it was unexpected. Suddenly it was just there, and if Anna's mind hadn't been so tied up with other anatomical concerns she might have wondered just exactly where "there" was. Then without warning, Anna's world changed. One moment she was all alone and in the next she received a constant companion, one that would remain with her day and night, quite possibly for the rest of her life. Rick nodded to Mark as he stood and wiped the lubricant off his fingers. As usual the CAP insertion had gone without a hitch, thanks to the newly designed Mark IV's. With just a tiny amount of lubricant, natural or otherwise, the space-age composite anal appliances virtually leapt into the bodies of their recipients with only a small amount of coaxing. A shudder passed through Anna as her available passage space was quickly filled, and her anal sphincter closed around the slender neck of the device. At the same time Mark removed his hand from her and allowed stunned young blond a couple of minutes to adjust around her new companion. He'd managed Anna's arousal with practiced ease, keeping her right on the threshold of orgasm throughout the CAP insertion procedure without allowing her to slip over the edge. Mark's legendary skill and timing combined with the amazing effects of Thelazine made the process practically painless. The headstrong teenager's advanced state of arousal served to distract her while her CAP device was introduced into her rectal passage by Rick Adams. It would take several days for her to completely acclimate to the filling presence in her abdomen, but she would adjust, just like every Guest of the Center has over the years. The CAP program was nothing short of remarkable, providing the young Guests with a focal point, and thereby reducing distraction. While Anna remained bound to the A-Frame restraint device, the men in white discussed the morning's project, congratulating themselves on how smoothly everything had gone. In a few minutes, Anna would be escorted to the Guest quarters where she would begin her new life. Curtis and Ted stepped forward in preparation for Anna's release from her bonds, but Rick wasn't ready to let her go just yet. Turning to Adam North, Rick asked, "You don't by any chance have a set of Kegel weights up here do you?" "No, I'm afraid not," North replied. "But if you'll stop by the Gymnasium on the way to the dormitory, I'm sure the Coach will provide our new Guest with everything she needs," the Headmaster added with a wink. "Alright, then," Rick replied with a smile. "Let's cut her loose, shall we. Mark, would you do the honors, please." "No worries," Mark said as he stepped to the A-Frame and its comely occupant. Smiling down at the girl, Mark turned and asked, "Anyone want to take a turn with Miss Kournikova, before we release her into the general population?" Anna's mind staggered in disbelief and outrage that these diabolical mad men had actually placed some evil thing into her body. Immediately afterward she'd been wracked with horrible cramps, but they'd quickly dissipated into what was now a dull but consuming ache that pervaded her lower abdomen and made it very difficult for her to concentrate on anything else. She knew the men were talking about her, no doubt plotting more vile deeds, but she wasn't entirely certain what was being said. The big man had just offered his colleagues something, and although she wasn't sure what it was, Anna was sure she wasn't going to like the idea. "Might as well get her started," Rick agreed, "but unfortunately I've got to run. Mark, I'll check in with you in a couple of hours, and we'll get Miss Kournikova integrated into the schedule, OK?" Mark nodded. "Ted, Curtis, why don't one of you guys take her for a spin. You might not get the chance again for awhile, and who knows, she might be fun," he added casually as he gave his friend Adam North a farewell wave and crossed the room for the door. Ted looked at Curtis and shrugged. "Do you mind?" he asked his colleague. "No problem, Teddy. You go right ahead," Curtis replied graciously. "I'll wait and put in for Night Partnering with her later on, after she's had a bit more training." Mark nodded at the two men, simultaneously dismissing Curtis and giving Ted the go-ahead. "You gentlemen take your time," Adam North interjected as he rose from his seat and stepped around the desk. "Use the office for as long as you like," he offered. Then, ignoring the young blond celebrity completely, the TYTC Headmaster turned to leave saying, "Curtis, if you have a minute. There are some things I need to discuss with you." The two men made their exit already engaged in discrete conversation, leaving Mark and Ted alone with their new charge. Eyeing the two men in white with baleful curiosity Anna spoke up as the two Handlers switched places. "I don't know what you two are planning, but I'm willing to offer you both a lot of money if you'll let me go and help me to get away from this place." Neither man said a word. Anna stared nervously back over her right shoulder as Mark stepped close behind her. "Look," she bargained. "You've had your fun. If you stop this craziness now, I promise you there'll be no repercussions. No one ever needs to know what went on this morning." Mark smiled as he placed a hand onto her shoulder. "Be still, Miss Kournikova and pay attention," he murmured as one would speak to a misbehaving puppy. Anna was about to argue when she heard a long, slow, "zip..." Turning quickly, she gave a start when she discovered that the man named Ted now stood very close in front of her. He to was smiling at her in a patronizing way as he extended his left arm and grasped the horizontal frame beside Anna's right shoulder. "What's the matter with you people?" Anna snapped. "Are you all retarded or something?" Ted remained utterly silent as he leaned even closer until their noses practically touched, and Anna felt his breath on her lips. The blond tennis star turned her face away in disgust and was about to launch into another indignant tirade when suddenly she felt something warm and distinctly hard, press against her belly. Snapping her eyes back to Ted, she hissed venomously, "You just hang on there big boy!" Ted's response to her theat was to use his free hand to push his sizeable erection down, and allow it to spring up against the posturing blond's personal assets. Anna looked down in alarm when she felt the heat of his manhood spring upward against her exposed intimate flesh, but her view was blocked by the man's belly. Anna Kournikova tried to bolster her courage with more threats in an attempt to ignore the cold a sense of helplessness which began to creep into her mind, filling her with dread. "You'll stop right now, if you two know what's good for you!" she snarled at the man behind her when she felt his hand on her right buttock. "Be still, Miss Kournikova!" Ted spoke flatly as he used his right hand between her legs to push his shaft upward and between Anna's heavy outer lips. "Nnnnno!" she shrieked through clenched teeth as she jerked her hips back violently in an effort to remove herself from harm's way. Her green eyes flashed with seething, emerald hostility. "I have friends," she gasped breathlessly as the hot mass began to saw back and forth slowly. "Powerful friends," she snarled and started to struggle. "Look at me, Miss Kournikova," Ted instructed the irate blond in preparation for entry. Then he shifted his left hand from the horizontal bar of the A-Frame to the back of Anna's neck. "Look at me," he repeated and nodded at Mark who stood at the ready. "Fuck you!" Anna screamed, and with unexpected speed, she snapped at Ted's forearm with flashing white teeth. She might have caused him some serious harm, but just as her teeth made contact with his skin, Ted's colleague, Mark gave the puck shaped butt of Anna's CAP Device which protruded slightly from between her rounded buttocks a firm slap. The result was almost comical, as the advanced polymer construction of the anal appliance magnified and conducted the full force of Mark's blow directly into Anna's abdominal core. From her open mouth pressed against Ted's forearm came a visceral grunt followed by a rush of expelled breath. At the same time Anna's broad hips shot forward. "Look at me, Miss Kournikova," Ted repeated calmly as he grasped her by her thick braid of golden hair and pulled her head back and away from his arm, leaving a slick of saliva on his skin. Her green eyes were round and staring and a few croaking sounds escaped her lips as she struggled to catch her breath. From behind, Mark grasped the end of Anna's CAP and pushed it forward and up, causing her pelvis to rise upward in response to the internal pressures it generated. Like a well rehearsed dance, Ted bent his knees slightly and moved himself into position. He held her head back, forcing her to look him in the eye and nodded almost imperceptibly to his colleague. On cue, Mark released the pressure on her CAP, and allowed Anna Kournikova to lower herself helplessly onto her first lover of the day. "Ted... Hey Ted," the burly black man dressed in snow white coveralls called to his colleague as he rounded a corner up ahead in the broad central corridor. "Hey, wait up, man," he said breathlessly after racing to catch up. "Hello, Roger," Ted responded but continued his rather fast pace down the hallway. "What's your hurry, my man?" Roger asked as he fell into step with his friend and coworker. "No real hurry," Ted replied. "Just got a busy schedule, that's all," he explained. Roger understood very well what his friend meant, for he too was quite busy. It seemed that lately the new inductees at The Youth Training Center were coming in waves. Weeks would go by without much activity from the Collections Department, then all of a sudden a flurry of new Guests would arrive, and as every TYTC Handler knew, new Guests required extra attention during their acclimation period. There were myriads of interviews and tests to conduct as well as medical exams and orientation sessions, all absolutely necessary in order to effectively integrate the new inductees into the TYTC family and their new way of life. Suddenly, back down the corridor in the direction from which they'd come there arose a tumultuous uproar. "Let go of me you bastards!" a female voice shrieked. Picking up on the girl's accent, Roger turned. "Is that her?" he asked somewhat excitedly as he took his friend by the arm, halting his progress. "Frank told me she was here, but I thought he was just messin' with me," the big black man added. "That's her, alright," Ted responded, raising his eyebrows. "We just finished her Double I, and now she's on her way to Medical." The two men stared down the hallway in the direction of the trio of individuals who moved slowly away from them. Between the two large men who were dressed in the standard issue white coveralls of a TYTC Handler, a blond she-cat fought furiously, spitting and kicking and shouting obscenities in at least two languages. Even from a distance, her sun bronzed skin appeared to glow, and as she thrashed to and fro between her two attendants; her thick braid of golden hair whipped about like a mad python. "Well I'll be damned," Roger exclaimed, shaking his head. Roger was a big tennis fan. "She looks like a real handful," the black Handler commented with a wry chuckle. "Who's her Principal?" he inquired. "Rick Adams drew the long straw," Ted answered, turning away. "Or perhaps it's the short straw," he added with a sardonic smile as another ear piercing shriek split the air and reverberated down the otherwise silent hallway. Roger continued to watch the noisy proceedings until the trio turned and entered a side chamber. The most recent, loud string of profanities was abruptly cut off as a sound-proof door hissed closed behind them. Turning and falling in with his colleague once more, Roger continued to press his friend for details as the two of them progressed up the corridor. "So you attended her Double I," Roger muttered almost to himself. "So how did it go? Who else was there? I want to hear everything, my man," the black man said cheerfully. "It really wasn't all that remarkable, Roger," Ted told his curious coworker. "Expecting a confrontational interview, the Boss called in Mark Haskel and assigned him to her team. Rick began the interview, but deferred regularly to Mark, especially once matters started heating up," Ted explained. "We put her in the A-Frame, and Curtis Clark and I filled in as control and composure attendants. Mark performed her personal assessment and field sizing, and Rick administered Thelazine." Then after a pause, "Yeah, we had to CAP her at the Double I," Ted explained with a shrug when he saw his partner's expression of surprise. "We gave her a size six, but I suspect she can handle more. Surprisingly, she's rather sloppy inside," the Handler commented. "One would think that with all the physical training she gets, somebody would have paid more attention to the muscles that really matter to a girl," Ted added with a grin. "You mean you...?" Roger asked his colleague, unable to hide his astonishment. "Yeah, I took a turn with her, vaginally and in the A-Frame; Matter of fact, I believe I was her first N/C, and like I said, the young lady needs a lot of exercise," Ted commented casually. Roger was speechless for the moment so Ted went on. "There's no question she has potential. She's quite fit with a good utilitarian physique, although she's a little heavy in the waist for my tastes," Ted stated for the record. "Breasts are reasonably solid, but large enough to cause some potential FRS problems. Rick mentioned possible reduction, but he might elect to go with support instead. We'll have to check with her new L.C. (Life Companion)," Ted explained. She cums fast," the Handler then added with a smile, getting Roger's undivided attention. "Rode Mark's finger all the way home, and only ten minutes after her Thelazine injection." "Well I'll be damned," Roger exclaimed and slapped his friend on the shoulder good naturedly. "So you got to bring her into the fold. That's pretty cool, my man." "I'm tellin' you Roger, she's nothing special. Unless, of course, you like a Russian accent." Both men laughed. "Her IGS (Internal Grip Strength) is extremely weak, and her M&M's (Muscle Memory) are way low. Like I said, she's pretty sloppy. She's gonna need a lot of time in the Gymnasium, and as soon as Medical's finished with her, Rick's going to start her on Kegel weights around the clock." The two men stopped in front of a closed door marked "Admitting". "Well, here's where I get off," Ted said to his black colleague. "Collections just brought in a couple of sisters, so I'll probably be tied up for the afternoon. Tell you what though," he went on. "I understand our Russian Guest goes up on the big board later today. Keep an eye out and sign up for Night Partnering, if you think you want to take her for a spin. Sometimes I like to do that just to get a feel for the "before and after", if you know what I mean," Ted added with a wink. "I do indeed, my man," Roger replied with a discerning smile. "Hey, thanks for the heads up and the details. You take care, Ted," the big Handler said as the two men shook hands. "See you around, Roger," Ted replied then turned and passed through the door behind him which whispered open then closed practically without a sound. "Silence, Miss Kournikova," the man who stood next to her snapped. "Guests shall remain silent while being attended to," he stated, reciting the seventh Non-Negotiable Standard. "Fuck you, you pervert!" Anna snarled as she strained against the wide velcro bands which bound her arms to the unwholesome looking chair she'd been placed in. "You people don't know what you've gotten yourselves into. When I get out of this despicable mad house, I'll see to it that all of you pay, big time," the blond tennis star postured bravely and continued to test her restraints. "I have powerful friends," she added for effect, but glanced nervously in the direction of a second white clad individual who sat beside her on a low stool. Anna cautioned herself not to underestimate these men. She'd already been raped once by one of them today and had no desire to repeat that experience. Never in all of her nineteen years had Anna felt so vulnerable and helpless, not only against this crew of diabolical monsters, but much worse, she'd discovered that she was also powerless over her own body. Anna shivered as memories of the past couple of hours flooded into her mind. She tried to convince herself that she'd put up a good fight. After all, there had been five men in the room, and it had taken four of them to subdue her and bind her spread-eagled to that horrible metal frame. They drugged her, with what she still wasn't sure, but whatever the drug was, it didn't knock her out like she'd expected. Then they'd put that repulsive thing into her. Unconsciously Anna's rectal muscles flexed around the hard presence inside of her, and for a brief moment her thoughts turned inward, focusing on the dull sense of fullness it produced. Anna hadn't been with a man for several weeks. Her last lover, not counting today, of course, was an older gentleman who just happened to be a rather high ranking official with the U.S. Tennis Association. Anna wasn't proud of the liaison, but some times those kinds of things were simply unavoidable for a girl with ambitions such as hers. Prior to that she'd spent time with Sergei. This last visit, the young hockey player had stayed with her for nearly three weeks, but despite her strong feelings for him, Anna was beginning to believe that her athletic beau was, shall we say, somewhat less than satisfying in bed. Anna had always known that she had a "hair trigger" and that she became aroused quickly, and as a result she liked to call the shots. Anna liked to be in control of herself as well as the situation. So it's no wonder that she felt a profound sense of powerlessness at the hands of these men, and the depth of her humiliation was utterly soul wrenching when one of the wicked monsters caused her to reach orgasm using just one finger. Then while she was still weak and wobbly from that unexpected yet intense climax, another of the demons in white had mounted her. Anna had never been taken against her will before that day, and the experience had proven to be altogether unnerving, especially for one who was in the habit of calling the shots and controlling the pace of the play. It wasn't at all what she'd expected. The man hadn't been the least bit brutal. To the contrary, Ted, Anna recalled the man's name, had taken his time with her. He'd moved slowly and purposefully. He'd stood face to face with Anna who was bound hand and foot to the hateful A-Frame, so close in fact that their bellies touched. And with each authoritative thrust of his hips, his course dark pubic hair mingled with Anna's soft, golden curls as their pubic bones ground together. As his considerable manhood moved steadily in and out, delving into Anna's deepest unexplored regions, he'd forced her to look him in the eye. It was utterly abasing, and worse still, while the man made love to her, he whispered instructions to her and words of encouragement or criticism. "Squeeze now, please, Miss Kournikova," he coached. And when at last, and to her never ending shame, Anna began to succumb to the moment, Ted had scolded her for uttering some small unconscious groan or other sound, reciting one of those hateful standards of his. Anna couldn't have known it at the time, but her resulting flare of anger, however brief, served to temporarily derail her train of arousal, keeping the young Russian emotionally off balance and confused. In this manner, the professional Handler had managed to string her along for nearly an hour. In fact, Anna was later unable to recall the sequence of events of the last fifteen to twenty minutes leading up to his inseminating her, for Ted had played her like a fine instrument, keeping her on the very knife edge of orgasm, in that mindless state of near climax but never allowing her to fulfill herself. And when Anna sensed those first tendrils of liquid heat radiate outward from the core of her womanhood, quickly spreading to every corner of her abdomen, Ted had grabbed her by her nipples and squeezed. As the pain generated by his powerful fingers cleared her muzzy thoughts, the man stared intently at Anna, his own dark eyes laughing as he watched the realization and resignation fill her emerald green eyes while his copious offerings filled her belly. If Anna had later been asked to describe the experience, she would have had to call it "thorough". At first she took some comfort in the knowledge that she'd kept herself from climaxing a second time, but as bits and pieces of those final, misty minutes gradually took shape, Anna recalled her mind and body, crying out in unison, praying for blessed release, a freedom that would never come. In the depths of her subconsciousness, Anna knew that she'd given in. The suspicion that her own body had betrayed her was extremely unsettling to the willful young celebrity, not to mention the fact that there now existed the distinct possibility that she may soon be with child. At that very moment, unwittingly Anna Kournikova stepped onto the path that leads a girl to right thinking. "Pay attention, Miss Kournikova, and look at me, please." The man's voice interrupted Anna's nightmare. "Huh? Nnno," she moaned softly when she felt two fingers "walk" deftly across her right inner buttock. No matter how gentle his touch, when the man seated on the stool to her right took hold of the composite appliance lodged deeply in her rectal passage, Anna felt his every move for it was amplified and conducted by the space age polymer device directly into her spiritual center. "Relax your muscles, please, Miss Kournikova," the man on the stool instructed her as he began to twist the horrible thing slowly back and forth inside of her, causing Anna to shudder uncontrollably and her teeth to chatter. Anna attempted to shift her position, but found she couldn't move more than an inch in any one direction. Steeling herself as best she could, Anna turned and glared at the man on the stool, but his expression remained absolutely neutral as he continued to manipulate the gadget in her rear end. Another violent tremor passed through the blond tennis star. "Look at me, please, Miss Kournikova," the other man repeated. The man on the stool nodded and smiled. Suddenly furious, Anna snapped her head around to where the first man had stood moments ago. She hated these men and their infernal politeness, and was about to lash out at the man verbally, but he wasn't there. Startled, Anna let out a little squeak when she felt a pair of warm hands on her knees. "Guests shall maintain direct eye contact with their partner or partners while being attended to," the man quoted. Anna glared at him icily where he stood near her knees. "That's much better, my dear," the man in white said with a genuine smile. "My name is Tony and my partner here is James." Following Tony's eyes, Anna glanced quickly in the direction of the man seated on the low stool. When their eyes met, James smiled and gave her CAP device a tiny tap with the tip of his middle finger. James' eyes smiled back at her when Anna's green eyes shot open wide and her nostrils flared. "Look at me please, Miss Kournikova," Tony spoke, dragging her attention back to himself. "I am going to examine you now, and James will assist me," he explained to the somewhat shaken blond teenager. "During the course of my examination I will be asking you some questions, and I expect for you to answer each of them quickly and accurately. Do I make myself clear, my dear?" he asked pointedly. Anna looked away, refusing to cooperate. The man's hand moved like lightning, yet his touch was surprisingly gentle as he pinched Anna's areola just beside her right nipple between his thumb and index finger. "Do I make myself clear, Miss Kournikova?" Tony repeated as he increased pressure on the satiny flesh. A sudden fiery pain lanced up Anna's right shoulder and neck, eliciting a gasp from the startled teenager. Anna gritted her teeth and tried to endure, but the pain was simply to great. In less than a minute her big green eyes began to water and her lower lip started to tremble. Seconds later, she nodded her head enthusiastically and gasped words of capitulation. Releasing her breast, Tony went on as though nothing had happened. "When we are finished with your exam, my dear, we will all know each other a lot better." He gave her a patronizing smile, then depressed a foot pedal located on the side of the pedestal base of the strange looking chair. With a soft whirring sound, the entire chair began to lean back. At the same time supports under Anna's thighs and calves moved upward, bending her knees and raising her legs. The whirring stopped and Anna found herself leaning back at about a forty-five degree angle with her legs together and her knees elevated slightly higher than her shoulders. During the move, she had of course tried to resist, but since her legs were bound to the lower extremity supports of the chair at her ankles and above and below her knees, her efforts had proved fruitless. "It's an interesting chair, is it not, my dear," Tony said in a conversational tone of voice as he stepped up and placed his hands onto Anna's knees. Anna stared down at him suspiciously. "We call it our "Cooperation Seat"," Tony explained casually as he moved his hands apart, spreading her legs. Of course at the same time, the Handler stepped on another of the chair's control pedals, so although it looked like he was effortlessly spreading the blond teenager using only his hands, it was actually the powerful hydraulics of the Cooperation Seat that did the work. [Author's Note: The Cooperation Seat is a specialty apparatus used for physical examinations or any time that restraint is required, for example during the early days of a Guest's period in residence before she has had a chance to acclimate to daily life at TYTC. The Cooperation Seat is made of fiberglass and is anatomically shaped . It has hydraulic controls that allow it to be raised or lowered to any height. The chair can also be tilted, allowing its occupant to be seated upright or leaned back into a recumbent position. The principal distinguishing feature of the apparatus is the seat itself. The seat bottom is divided into two halves with an opening between them such that the occupant's thighs are cradled and supported while leaving her buttocks and abdominal orifices free and accessible. Attached to the seat are the lower extremity extensions which are articulated, allowing them to be adjusted into several practical configurations. The arm supports, like the leg extensions, are also fully adjustable. Additionally, like the leg rests, they are equipped with restraint straps which fasten with velcro closures. Attached to the base of the head rest is a wider, padded restraint band designed to fit around the occupant's neck. A similar band can be added at the occupant's waist, much like a cummerbund to restrain a particularly aggressive subject. Once properly positioned in the Cooperation Seat and restrained, the Guest is completely immobilized yet remains eminently accessible.] "Nnnnn," Anna groaned as she fought vainly to preserve her dignity. "Silence, Miss Kournikova," Tony cautioned as he watched the comely blond's gates open before him. Stepping on another pedal, Tony then raised her calves until her feet were almost level with the top of her head. Cradled in the anatomically shaped bucket seat, Anna Kournikova lay spread open like a ripe melon. "That's very nice," Tony said at last, gazing at the moist pink flesh visible between the girl's meaty labia majora. "Are you comfortable, my dear?" he asked factitiously as he stepped between her knees. Anna jumped when James' stool scraped across the tile floor as he moved to a better position. "Relax, my dear," Tony murmured, tracing the backs of his fingers softly down her right inner thigh. "Just sit quietly now and let us have a closer look at you. There's a good girl." Tony's finger tips strayed into her soft blond bush. "James, did you notice the pretty heart shape our young lady's trimmed herself into?" the Handler added offhandedly as he began to tug playfully at her curls. Anna thought about objecting to his invasion of her privacy, but quickly reconsidered when James, anticipating her reaction, pushed nimbly upward on her CAP, causing Anna to groan softly in response to the increased internal pressure. "I understand that you entertained a lover this morning, Miss Kournikova. Is that true?" Tony asked rhetorically, noting the overall puffiness of her vulva as well as the milky substance which seeped from her vaginal opening. "I was raped, if that's what you mean," Anna muttered under her breath. Inside she was seething at being treated in such a demeaning manner, and again she vowed vengeance upon the demented members of the wicked institution. Tony decided to ignore her most recent transgression for the time being, and press on with the examination. Turning to his assistant he asked, "James would you be so kind as to fetch me the FCU (Feminine Cleansing Unit) and an auto-injector of Contra-6." Contra-6 is a painstakingly designed systemic contraceptive which is highly effective and lasts approximately six weeks. In the past, longer lasting contraceptive drugs were used, but recently, the staff psychologists had begun experimenting with induced pregnancy and its effects as an ego eroding mechanism. Prior to the development of Contra-6, antidotes had to be given in order to counteract the effects of the longer lived contraceptives. With Contra-6 it was only necessary to suspend the dosage if one wished to impregnate a particular young lady. As a rule, however, the Guests were not informed initially that they'd been given a contraceptive at all. The theory being that during a Guest's orientation period, the specter of possible pregnancy provided a powerful influence during the initial shaping of her persona. While he awaited his assistant, Tony picked up a metallic clip board, studied the data it contained for a few seconds, and then looked down at the young blond who for the moment appeared to be behaving herself. "You are nineteen years of age, Miss Kournikova," the Handler stated for the record. Anna hesitated and then nodded her head. Her expression was one of pure loathing. "You're single and were a resident of South Florida. Correct?" Anna glared at him. "I'll take that for a "yes"," Tony responded with a chuckle. "Are you currently under a doctor's care, Miss Kournikova?" Anna gave the man a calculating stare for a second then answered flatly, "No." "Are you taking any medications?" "No." "Do you have a history of any medical conditions, or allergies?" Tony asked, pausing and glancing up from his clip board when James arrived with a piece of equipment in tow that resembled a canister vacuum cleaner. Anna also noticed the strange apparatus and didn't like the looks of it one bit. "Thank you, James," Tony said, taking a small pen-like device from his partner. "Do you have any allergies to drugs or otherwise, Miss Kournikova?" the Handler repeated his earlier question. "Uh..uh," Anna replied a bit absently as she continued to eye the machine parked beside her chair. "Are you currently using any sort of recreational drugs, tobacco or alcohol?" Turning to the demon in white, Anna responded indignantly, "Are you crazy? Don't you know who I am?" "A simple yes or no will do, Miss Kournikova," James stated bluntly as he again took his seat on the low stool and reached beneath the blond tennis star. Anna stared at him briefly with a mixture of hatred and concern when she felt his touch on her CAP Device. "Let's continue, shall we," Tony said after clearing his throat. Anna turned toward the man when he spoke then shuddered reflexively when she felt the filling object in her nether passage begin to rotate slowly back and forth..back and forth. "God, it was infuriating!" Anna's mind silently screamed, "and so distracting." Ted ignored her obvious discomfort and said, "Regarding your menstrual cycle, Miss Kournikova." That got her attention. "Are your periods regular and predictable, and would you say that your menstrual flow is heavy or light on the average?" Quickly becoming incensed again, the willful blond glowered at the man who stood between her legs. "Just who the hell do you think you are, asking me that kind of a question?" Anna thought indignantly to herself. But to Tony she said with unveiled scorn, "You must think you're some kind of doctor of something," Tony responded with a patient smile, for he'd lost track of the number of times he'd conducted primary physical examinations. "Actually, Miss Kournikova, I am a doctor. Now answer the question, please." Anna was caught off balance by the man's unexpected response to her expression of contempt and unwittingly replied, "N...not too heavy and p...pretty regular." She was suddenly quite flustered and confused. "How could a doctor be involved with a place like this?" she puzzled, finding the thought very disquieting. "There, you see. That wasn't so bad," he commented patronizingly. Then he added, "Obviously at age nineteen you are sexually active, my dear. Tell me then, at what age did you lose your virginity, and how many lovers have you entertained since that time; not counting this morning, of course?" Both men noticed her face begin to flush with rage, long before she spoke. And having performed this very same interview on countless other occasions, they knew pretty much what to expect from her. As they predicted, the attractive blond celebrity was speechless for a time, before she boiled over into a seething tirade of virtually unintelligible gibberish, consisting of both Russian and English expletives interspersed with promises of wrathful retribution and vengeance. The two professional men stood by and waited for the storm to pass. James let go of her CAP Device temporarily to give her room to thrash about within the confines of the chair's restraint bands. Tony used the time to ready her injection of Contra-6, and as soon as the struggling blond showed the first signs that she was running out of steam, he pressed the tip of the pressurized auto-injector against the soft skin on the inside of her left buttock. "Snick" and Anna received her first measured dosage of the designer contraceptive. The Contra-6 compound, by the way, also contains a fast acting and extremely efficient spermicide. Nearly twenty-four hours can pass between copulation and injection, and still the recipient will be rendered infertile. Anna would not, therefore be bearing Ted's child; at least not as a result of this morning's coupling. "Owwchhh," the blond banshee squawked, the slight sting of the injection momentarily distracting her and halting her angry diatribe. Anna sat for several minutes, flushed and out of breath as a result of her fruitless battle with the Cooperation Seat and its restraint system. Then at last she stared pointedly at Tony and declared, "Just who the hell do you people think you are. What makes you think you can kidnap a person, rape her and then ask brazen questions about her personal life. I think you're all totally insane. That's what I think," Anna said unequivocally. The two Handlers looked at each other, but remained silent. Anna mistakenly interpreted their response as being indicative of sheepishness or even timidity, and all of a sudden a plan of action sprang to mind. Anna had learned through years of practice and experience that all men could be bought. One only had to determine the right price. In most instances, the promise of sexual favors was more than adequate, but it seemed pretty clear to her that such an offer would be of little value here. "Money," Anna thought to herself. After all, she was a very wealthy young woman, and she didn't think she would have any problem at all negotiating her freedom. Strapped naked to what amounted to an instrument of torture with a total stranger standing between her widely splayed legs, Anna was in a rather compromising position, to put it mildly, but still she thought she could pull this off. She'd had to dig deep within herself to find the courage and resolve she needed to come from behind and win many, many times out there on the tennis court, and although matters appeared to be pretty grim at the moment, Anna knew she would prevail over her adversaries. And she had yet another ally in addition to her monetary wealth and strength of character. Anna possessed the "Power of Pretty", and believe you me, she knew how to use it. Time and time again Anna had wielded her good looks like a broad sword, cutting a wide swath through those who disagreed with her, and bending them, particularly the males, to her way of thinking. Armed with wealth, good looks and depth of character, Anna sensed that victory was pretty much assured. Dialing up the "Power of Pretty" to the maximum, Anna turned her sparkling emerald eyes on the supposedly unsuspecting Tony. "I can make you a wealthy man, you know," she stated, trying to keep her voice low and even. "I beg your pardon, my dear?" Tony answered, feigning ignorance. From outside of Anna's field of vision James caught his eye, smiled and winked. Tony maintained a neutral expression, and let the girl continue. "I said, I can make you a very wealthy man," Anna repeated. "How does a million dollars sound?" she asked with a seductive smile. "I... I don't know, I.." Tony stammered in response to her proposal. He was quite a good actor, really. When Anna noticed him looking in the direction of his partner, she turned and said to James, "The same offer goes for you." Then to both men she said, "One million dollars each, and all you have to do to get it is to untie me and then show me the way out of this place." Then Anna had a second thought. Locking eyes with Tony, who obviously held the more senior position between the two men, the beautiful blond celebrity allowed her true arrogance to flare like a star gone nova. Firmly ensconced in her belief that no man could resist either her beauty or her feminine wiles, Anna purred in a rather unladylike manner, "And once, I'm free, who knows. Perhaps you and I could...." She left her thinly veiled proposal hanging in the air like a living thing, warm and moist. The room fell into silence for what seemed like hours. The only sound to be heard was the whispering of the cool, filtered air wafting in through the overhead vents. Then... "We could what, Miss Kournikova?" Tony asked obtusely. Anna couldn't believe her ears. "Was the guy an idiot?" she asked herself. Granted, Anna had absolutely no intention of following through on either of her offers. In fact, no sooner than she could get to a telephone, she meant to summon the authorities and have this shit hole full of perverts busted, but good. "But the big moron dressed in white farmer johns had no way of knowing that," Anna concluded. "Don't panic, Murzik," she told herself. "He's just a little stupider than he looks." Anna decided to give him one more try. Smiling demurely at the man, Anna fairly glowed with an aura of bewitching female seductiveness. "You know," she began in a low throaty voice. "I have a big house, and it's very private. Maybe you could come by or something." Her smile shown like the sun, almost blinding in its intensity, and practically as hot. "There, is that plain enough for you, you big ape?!" Anna snarled in her thoughts. "God, if he doesn't get it now, he's too dumb to be walking around!" Anna was so pleased with herself that she almost laughed out loud, but she maintained her composure, never allowing her opponent to see her plan until it was too late. Finally, after an eternity had passed, the man in white - "Tony," Anna wanted to remember that name - looked at her and spoke. "I see, Miss Kournikova." Then he paused for yet another eternity before continuing. Turning to his partner in crime, Tony asked him, "So what do you think, James?" Anna looked quickly in James' direction, and noticed right away the somewhat queer expression on his face. James wasn't as good an actor as Tony was. "I don't know," he said from his seat on the low stool beside her. Thankfully Anna could see both of James' hands for the time being. "Come on, you moron!" she screamed silently. "A million bucks is a lot of money," James commented, his words as slow as time itself. "Duh!" Anna thought, raising her eyebrows. "It sounds like a pretty fair offer to me, Tony," James stated at last, boosting Anna's spirits tenfold. "A million dollars each," James muttered and faded into silence. "Yes indeed," Tony exclaimed. "It's a very reasonable proposal," he said, winking at Anna. She smiled even brighter in response if that were possible. "And one that I will strongly consider; you can count on that," he added, then was forced to control himself to keep from bursting out laughing as he watched the blond's cocky smile begin to fade, and an expression of confusion and uncertainty creep in to take its place. "But what intrigues me more, James," Tony began, by pretending to address his colleague. "Is Miss Kournikova's offer of, ah..."companionship". Anna was no longer smiling. "Do you think she meant... you know?" James asked, playing along and grinning from ear to ear. He loved this part. "Yes, James, I believe she was," Tony answered his partner. Then turning to Anna who was frowning profusely now, he asked, "It wasn't my imagination, Miss Kournikova, was it? You were proposing that you and I have sex in return for my cooperation and help. Is that not so?" Anna once again was reduced to a state of stunned silence. She tried to speak, but although her mouth opened and closed repeatedly, no sounds issued forth. Holding up his hand, Tony squelched her efforts to speak. Then talking as if to a class of trainees the Handler continued. "I feel pretty certain that indeed Miss Kournikova's offer implied that she is willing to exchange sexual favors in return for services rendered. I suspect therefore that were we to do a little investigating, we would discover that she has a history of this kind of behavior." Glancing down at the blond teenager, Tony made note of her discomfort. Then with a warm smile he said to her, "I want you to know that we're not judging you personally, my dear. You have simply been living your life and making decisions based upon those principles which were taught to you by your mother and she by her mother and on, ad infinitum. Unfortunately, my dear Miss Kournikova, most of those precepts are severely dated, and many are just plain wrong." Anna was simply too bewildered and dismayed by the apparent failure of what she had considered to be a very well conceived plan, to hear much of what the man in white was saying. And if the truth be known, she didn't really want to hear it anyway. In Anna's humble opinion, the monster named Tony was either completely crazy or totally full of shit and perhaps both. "Now he's bringing my mother into this mess," Anna thought to herself. "What the hell's he talking about?" she wondered distractedly. Then a thought crossed her mind. "Hey, at least he's not raping me." Anna almost smiled at the irony of her reflection. Since she apparently wasn't going to be going anywhere, anytime soon, the headstrong blond decided to listen to the man for awhile. Maybe she could still find a chink in his armor. She had to do something. She couldn't just give up. Then without warning, memories of how she'd reacted in the hands of the men who'd raped her earlier that morning flooded her thoughts, forcing Anna to fight against a rising tide of despondency and hopelessness. Somehow Anna managed to shake it off one more time and rise above the abyss, but she was tiring emotionally. Gradually Tony's voice trickled into her conscious thoughts. "One very common misconception, and one that you have clearly chosen to believe, Miss Kournikova, is that the female of our species has been given the gift of sexuality to be used as a bargaining chip and to compensate for the fact that she is the weaker sex, physically. This sentiment is not only incorrect, it is also manipulative and destructive. Are you listening to what I'm saying to you, Miss Kournikova?" Tony asked. Caught somewhat by surprise, Anna responded thickly with a nod of her head. And she had to pee. "Very well," the Handler said. Then he went on. "History is littered with instances where unchecked female seductiveness caused heartache and pain, not to mention several major world conflicts. But remember, my dear," Tony said, patting Anna on the leg. "None of this is your fault. You were simply going on what you were taught. But as these maternal teachings are passed down from generation to generation they get altered, sometimes intentionally, and sometimes accidentally, much like that game where you line up several people and whisper a secret to the first in the line, who whispers it to the next person and so on. By the time the message reaches the last person in the line it scarcely resembles the original. You with me?" Anna had made up her mind at least. The man was full of shit. Anna nodded. Then in an almost reverent tone of voice Tony recited the first part of the TYTC Mission Statement. "We believe that today's "modern woman" has become misaligned. Everything we see in the media today places the physical beauty of the female of our species upon an unreachable pedestal. Males, on the other hand, are frequently portrayed as buffoons and are the only group remaining that it is politically correct to ridicule. It is our mission to remedy this embarrassing situation and restore the female to her rightful position in society." Placing his hand onto the tennis star's well proportioned right thigh, and startling her in the process, Tony held her gaze with his dark grey eyes as he spoke. "You must understand, my dear girl, that we sincerely believe that female sexuality was intended as a gift. A gift which can be very satisfying when managed properly as it was meant to be handled - as a commodity." Tony smiled at the questioning expression on her face. She was totally out of her element, embarking upon a journey along the road less traveled. And fortunately for her, Miss Kournikova would have the dedicated staff of The Youth Training Center to guide her down that path of discovery. "You appear to be willing to use your sexuality as a commodity, Miss Kournikova," Tony said to her and received a scornful look in return. "In a way that gives you a head start of sorts, and all that remains is for us to help you to give freely of yourself. You will have to forget much of what you believe to be truths about morality and normalcy, but we will be here to guide you along the way. At The Youth Training Center you will never be alone. I promise you." Then after a prolonged pause during which he and the blond gazed intently at each other, sizing each other up, Tony squeezed Anna's thigh affectionately and said, "So, now that you have some idea of who we are and what we intend to accomplish, perhaps you'll cooperate and help me to complete your examination." Anna remained silent for several seconds and then responded unbidden to the man in white. "You seem intent upon abusing me, and I obviously can't stop you," she began calmly. "But if you think for one second that you and your band of deviants are going to turn me into some kind of sex slave, then you've got another thing coming, buster," Anna hissed. "Very well, my dear," Tony responded in a patronizing tone of voice. Eventually like every Guest of the Center, she would have to learn to obey the Non-Negotiable Standards, but for now, all Tony wanted to do was to complete her exam so he could get some lunch. He was starving. "Baby steps, Miss Kournikova. We need to begin our journey with baby steps and then we'll progress gradually. You'll see. Now, where were we?" Tony said consulting his clip board. Anna looked away. She would not give in to these mad men. She still had to pee. "How old were you when you lost your virginity, my dear?" Tony asked in a friendly voice. "Fourteen," Anna answered. Tony made a note in her file and then continued with the interview. "Approximately how many lovers have you entertained since age fourteen?" Anna hated the way the man referred to her as having "entertained" lovers, but after thinking about it for a couple of minutes, she answered, "Eight, I think. Maybe nine," she added. Anna found it hard to believe that she would divulge information of such a personal nature to a perfect stranger, but if it kept him happy such that he'd keep his hands off of her, Anna felt it was worth it. "OK," the Handler muttered thoughtfully as he made another note. "James, we're almost finished here. Would you be so kind as to get the FCU ready." "Sure thing," James replied. "Vaginal or anal?" he asked, referring to the choice of attachments available for the apparatus. "I think we'll start with her vagina," Tony answered, glancing down between Anna's widely splayed thighs. She was still leaking a little. Anna didn't like the sound of their conversation at all, and she blushed hotly when she saw Tony staring at her. "What're you gonna do to me?" she asked in a slightly fearful voice. "Silence, Miss Kournikova," Tony snapped. "Guests shall remain silent while being attended to," said, quoting the seventh standard. "I'll not tolerate any further outbursts from you." And something in his voice told Anna that he wasn't kidding. "Now, as to the nature of your sexual activities. What sort of sexual experiences have you had, Miss Kournikova?" Tony inquired offhandedly. From the breast pocket of his coverall the Handler removed a small plastic cylinder about the size of a "BIC" pen. In it was a typical rectal style thermometer. "Vaginal sex only, or have you experimented with oral or anal sex as well?" Tony asked as he tore open an alcohol wipe and cleaned the glass barrel of the instrument. "Have you ever entertained more than one lover at a time?" Tony rattled off a string of demeaning questions as though he were asking Anna what her favorite color was or what kind of car she drove. He took a moment to shake down the mercury in the thermometer. Anna was utterly outraged by the questions the white clad deviant had just asked her, and she was about to commit yet another transgression and tell him about it when without warning the man slipped the thermometer into her vagina. "Be still, Miss Kournikova," Tony cautioned as he pushed the tiny glass rod up into the blond teenager until his finger tips made contact with her labia minora. Then he took his hand away and glanced at his wristwatch. "And answer my questions, please," Tony added patiently. Anna could feel the slender glass shaft inside of her, and she began to wonder what the men in white would do to her next. Meanwhile, she struggled with her pride and sense of modesty over the answers she was expected to produce momentarily. "I'm waiting, Miss Kournikova," Tony pressed as he glanced at his watch again. She still had about a minute on her vaginal temperature. Tony was willing to be patient to a degree with the young Russian, for if she did have a history of "unusual" sexual habits, and he could get her to admit it to him, it would represent another major hurdle overcome by the girl. "Come, come, my dear," Tony said as he reached for the end of the thermometer. "You might just as well tell me all about it, because I'm going to find out anyway. I promise you that." Tony was having trouble getting a handle on the end of the little glass rod. "Damn thing is slippery," he muttered to himself as he fished around at the girl's entrance, causing her to squirm a little from his touch. "Oral sex. I've had oral sex," the blond suddenly blurted out. "Very good, my child," Tony complimented her. "And did you take your lover's penis into your mouth or did you allow him to sample your charms?" At last he managed to get a purchase on the end of the slender glass rod and was able to remove the thermometer from Anna's interior. "99.1... You're quite warm inside, my dear, and that's very a desirable attribute in a girl." Anna turned beet red. "Both," she murmured almost inaudibly. "I see," Tony said, making another entry into her permanent file. "Anything else?" he asked as he wiped the thermometer clean of its mucous coating. Anna shook her head a little too quickly, and Tony suspected she had a skeleton in her closet, but he decided to let her off the hook for now. "OK, then," Tony commented as he closed the file and dropped the clip board onto a nearby lab table. "That concludes the interview portion of your examination, my dear, and now we need to get a few personal measurements." Anna stared at him warily. "So, tell you what we're gonna do," Tony said, waxing colloquial. "I'm going to let James make you nice and clean inside, while I take a few outside measurements. Afterward we'll move inside for a series of internal dimensions. How does that sound?" he asked rhetorically. Anna was becoming quite concerned as the man named Tony stepped from between her legs and let James take his place. Anna really couldn't see what was going on down there, but she listened while James went about assembling the vacuum-like contraption. Tony had disappeared temporarily, but Anna was far more interested in the proceedings going on between her legs at the moment than where the other man had gone. "Well, well, somebody left quite a mess," James commented as he put his hands on her without the slightest reservation. "Who did you say your lover was this morning, sweetheart?" the brazen little man asked as though he were asking the time of day. Another thing Anna despised was the way these people referred to her rapists as lovers. Their hateful euphemisms coupled with their incessant politeness tended to add legitimacy to their diabolical acts. Anna refused to answer the man. He looked like a weasel, and when he touched her, it made her skin crawl. "Well, whoever he was, he sure filled you up, sweetheart. You've still got cum running out of you, baby." He was disgusting. "But no matter, because old James is going to make you all nice and clean inside." And with that the man slid his middle finger into Anna until the backs of his knuckles pressed against her meaty labia. "Hrrrrruughh," Anna groaned through clenched teeth and, she shuddered reflexively as the man's invading digit delved deeply into her most private and most female area. "Be still now, sweetheart and let Uncle James have a look around in there." Anna's tummy heaved in response to the man's probing which, of course, brought more pressure to bear on her full bladder. "Well, I'd say we're definitely wet enough, but the rumor going around that you're kinda sloppy down here is right on the money. We need to get you down to see the Coach so he can make this little pussy nice and tight." Anna had never been so humiliated in all her life when next the man shook his finger rapidly from side to side, causing a chorus of wet snapping sounds to emanate from between her legs. "Yes indeed, we're a sloppy little pussy, aren't we," James said as he amused himself for awhile longer inside of the young blond tennis star. Then after what seemed to Anna to be an eternity, the horrible little man removed his hand from her and stooped to retrieve God only knew what. "I think you're gonna like this, sweetheart. Most of our young ladies do," James said holding up the hand wand of the Feminine Cleansing Unit, FCU for short, for Anna to see. Anna stared at it fearfully. It was made of white plastic and looked very much like a larger version of a typical feminine douche wand. It's bulbous tip was perhaps three quarters of an inch in diameter and tapered down to a more slender handle which had about a ten degree bend in it half way down its length. Two clear vinyl hoses were attached to the butt end of the handle and led down to what was referred to as the pump/filtration unit. One hose supplied cleansing solution to the hand wand while the other served to suction the effluent back into the filtration chamber where it would be cleaned and recycled. The beauty of the device was that it could thoroughly cleanse either female abdominal passage without spilling so much as a drop of the cleansing liquid. The cleaning fluid usually consisted of a mild soap and water solution with a few drops of scented oil added for lubrication and to ensure freshness. "There we go, baby. That's not so bad is it," James purred as he used his fingers to spread Anna's labia majora before pushing the bulbous tip of the hand wand into her vaginal entrance. Her green eyes widened and her lips parted slightly in reaction to being penetrated once again, and she stared downward toward the despicable little man standing between her legs as he slipped the vile plastic hand wand effortlessly into her interior. "That's it, sweetheart. Take it all in," James cooed. Meeting with virtually no resistance what so ever, the Handler continued to advance the device into the famous blond teenager until the tip arrived at the very back of her vaginal passage, an area known as the fornix. There he met with a slight back pressure as the wand pressed against those moist hidden tissues. James noted a couple of additional signs which indicated that the girl was fully involved. First, her facial expression changed ever so slightly, reflecting what can best be described as curious introspection. This "inward stare", as it is referred to among professionals, always accompanies complete penetration, but often it takes a trained eye to recognize it. This expression of uncertainty and the somewhat misty cast to her eyes often lasts no more than a few seconds, particularly in a non-consensual setting, but it is widely believed to be a precursor to "womb centering". The second more obvious sign was the flexing of her abdominal muscles. Anna's already flat tummy, became noticeably more taught, her "abs" flexing in sympathetic reaction to her reflex vaginal muscle contractions. Placing the heel of his free hand onto Anna's broad pubic mons, the Handler allowed his finger tips to rest lightly on her lower belly where he could feel every twitch and tremor as she responded to his work. Due to the convoluted nature of the vaginal walls, it is recommended that muscle activity be encouraged during the cleansing process to ensure thorough job. "OK, sweetheart. Here we go," James said with a smile. Then he stepped on the on/off foot switch on the side of the pump/filtration unit, activating the apparatus. The FCU made a soft whirring sound and the two vinyl hoses jerked slightly as the clear cleansing solution flowed quickly up the supply hose and into the handle of the wand. Almost immediately Anna's green eyes grew wide and staring as she felt a liquid warmth begin to permeate her interior. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, really. In fact it felt much like a normal douche only more palpable and penetrating. James felt her tummy muscles begin to tic and quiver as the pre-warmed solution was channeled through the center of the wand and ejaculated from its tip in a pulsating flow similar to a water pick. The pulsing action of the fluid stream tended to stimulate vaginal muscle activity as well as working its way more efficiently into all of her nooks and crannies. James could see the results of his efforts right away as the discharge hose rapidly filled with the milky effluent liquid suctioned from the blond's fluffy internal folds. Anna did her level best to maintain some semblance of composure, but subconsciously she was taking a beating. Even in her darkest nightmares she would never have imagined being placed in such an embarrassing and demeaning position. Although Anna was loth to even look at the disgusting little man, her gaze seemed to be inexplicably drawn to his dark blue eyes and his patronizing grin. From time to time a pronounced sucking sound would reverberate around the otherwise silent exam room as the wand found some hidden air pocket deep in Anna's interior, causing her to flush with renewed embarrassment. Anna had always been a rather wet young lady, especially when aroused, and she was extremely self-conscious about it. Many times she'd felt compelled to ask her lovers to slow down when she started to get "noisy", usually feigning soreness or fatigue. Something about the "spooching", sputtering sound of trapped air being forced from her vagina made her feel coarse and unclean. James, of course, recognized her expression of discomfort, and putting two and two together, he made a mental note to make and entry in her file regarding her distaste for vaginal reports. Toying with the headstrong celebrity, James worked the wand from side to side, stretching her vaginal walls and making one hell of a racket. It sounded kind of like someone sucking on a straw at the bottom of a milkshake. Anna was totally incensed. Gritting her teeth, she fought to endure the thrusting and probing of the heinous contrivance. Then to her utter dismay the despicable creature in white coveralls started to hum a little tune under his breath. Soon he was moving the invasive apparatus in and out and side to side in time to his humming, and Anna fully expected for him to break into a chorus of "Whistle While You Work". Then when she thought that she couldn't stand another second of this debasing ordeal and would simply die of humiliation, Anna felt a hand on her right breast. Tony was back. "How are we doing, Miss Kournikova?" he asked calmly, his finger tips flirting with her nipple. When she refused to answer he removed his hand from her breast, and leaned to get a closer look at the cleaning operation. "She's coming right along," James said happily. The two men glanced in unison at the hoses of the FCU. The suction hose which a few minutes ago had been filled with a milky discharge, now ran practically clear. "Shouldn't be too much longer now," James commented offhandedly. "I just need to get her moving inside for awhile," he added. Tony nodded his agreement and left the man to his work. James had been one of the first Handlers to use the new Feminine Cleansing Unit, and was now considered by all to be the resident expert in its operation. Over the past few months James had developed a few tricks of the trade. In fact it was he who'd first recognized the advantages of encouraging vaginal muscle activity in his patients in order to achieve a more complete cleaning. The placement of his free hand on the pubic arch so he could use his finger tips to monitor internal exertion through abdominal muscle movement was one such maneuver. Then one day, when James was feeling particularly playful, he'd slipped his thumb down into a Guest's carnal cleft where he began to manipulate her clitoris while he went about the cleaning process. The results were so spectacular that James, as well as every other Handler who'd tried the FCU, couldn't believe that no one had thought of the technique before. Anna's hips jerked and, of course, her tummy flexed when the wicked man in white located and began to palpate that small organ so densely packed with nerve endings. Then her mouth popped open and she gasped, "Ahh...ahh," as fiery impulses of raw female energy raced up the "Thelazine Highway" and arrived in the pleasure center of her brain with shocking intensity. "Silence, Miss Kournikova," Tony said from a position near her right shoulder. Anna stared up at him with startled green eyes. Just then a particularly loud slurping sound came from between her thighs causing her to snap her gaze in James' direction. "Let's have a look at these," Tony muttered as he leaned over the girl and grasped her full breasts firmly, one in each hand. Anna's expressions of shock and confusion were priceless as her attention was immediately drawn to the growing dull ache in her breasts and the man who caused it. The Handler smiled down at her as his expert fingers palpated the softer fatty breast tissues, seeking the firmer mammary glands beneath. "These will more than likely present a problem," Tony commented as he hefted first one breast and then the other, evaluating their consistency and weight. "But we'll find out for sure when we run the sway and travel tests." [Author's Note: A very good example of the Breast Sway and Nipple Travel tests can be found in the TYTC tale entitled "Recall Part Three".] Next Tony grasped Anna's right nipple between his index finger and thumb and shook the breast from side to side with some authority, eliciting an audible gasp from the unhappy teenager. Tony glared at her, warning her to be silent with his cold dark eyes. When he released her nipple, the Handler made note of the approximate time it took for the breast mass to come to rest. Then he repeated the procedure with the left breast. It wasn't a highly accurate test, but it was an adequate indicator that a potential problem existed. Earlier when he reviewed her file, he noticed that Rick Adams had made a notation about the need for breast mass support right away and possibly breast reduction surgery later on. Tony agreed with the assessment and added his own comments to her file. "There we go, little lady. You're all done and clean as a whistle in there," James said cheerfully as he shut the pumps down and deftly extracted the hand cleansing wand from the girl's vagina. More importantly in Anna's opinion, he ceased his attentions to her clitoris, for in spite of her efforts to resist, the young athlete found herself slipping inexorably into that mindless abyss of Thelazine fired arousal. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but she probably wouldn't have been able to hold out much longer. Surprisingly, the only thing that had prevented Anna from being rolled beneath a boiling orgasmic tidal wave was the fact that her need to urinate had become critical. And as Anna lay, enduring the attentions of her defilers, she had no idea what she was going to do about the growing concern. Glancing in his partner's direction, James noted that Tony was in the process of measuring her nipple girth using a small stainless steel caliper. Knowing that Tony would be a minute, James decided to follow through on a suspicion he had. Every TYTC Handler spends many hours of extensive training dealing with the psychology of the human female, and James was no exception. He'd been taught to read facial expression and decipher the nuances of body language. James was a rather intuitive person to begin with, and armed with the knowledge he'd gained through training and experience, he could read a girl like the Wall Street Journal. "I wonder," he mumbled to himself as he placed the vaginal cleansing wand into its protective case. "There had been something about her expression," James thought to himself as he turned back to the girl. "She was definitely responding to the clitoral stimulation," he reflected. "But something was distracting her." James glanced at his wristwatch. "She's been in residence since this morning, and according to her chart she went straight from Recovery to her Double I and then directly here. "I'll bet our young champion has got to pee," James concluded as a smile spread on his lips. She was looking up at Tony who was still gathering breast dimension data and didn't notice James' approach. "Let's see what kind of a job we did," the Handler said and slipped his middle finger quite unexpectedly into Anna's vagina. He caught her completely off guard, and even if her vaginal muscles had been strong and fit, which they certainly were not, James would have had no difficulty in performing a proper manual entry. At TYTC it is widely believed that in order for an entry to be effective, one that a girl will remember, she should be penetrated fully on the first thrust. It didn't have to happen quickly or overly forcefully. Actually, many feel that a firm, fluid ingress is best, because it gives a girl time to consider the fact that she's been commandeered. As it was, with Anna's lack of vaginal fitness and aided by the traces of scented oil left behind by the FCU, the tip of James' long middle finger arrived at the entrance to her womb unchallenged. "Mm... nnn," Anna groaned through clenched teeth and pursed lips. She closed her big green eyes for several seconds then opened them again, like a prolonged blink. "Feels pretty good in here to me," James commented cheerfully, placing his other hand stealthily onto the blond's tummy just above her pubic bone. Looking up at her face, James confirmed that he had her attention as he started probing about inside of her. "Yes indeed," he said. "Nice and clean in here," James murmured as he began to fuck his finger slowly in and out of the girl. Then to Anna's surprise James' ring finger joined his middle finger, moving slowly in and out...in and out...in and out. The Handler saw her nostrils flare and knew that he was making an impression upon her. James had already confirmed his theory that she needed to urinate, when as if by accident he'd pressed down lightly on her tummy. Her whole body had gone instantly rigid for a moment. He'd even felt it inside. "This little girl's gotta go," James thought gleefully. Catching Tony's eye, James winked and said, "I know something you don't know." He kept his fingers moving slowly in and out. Anna looked up at him questioningly. Tony knew exactly what his partner was referring to for the two of them had worked together in the past on more than one occasion. "Oh, yeah. What's that?" he challenged playfully. Without giving the girl any hint of his intentions, James readied his hand on her lower abdomen, leaning forward slightly for better leverage. Inside of her vagina he moved his finger tips to a special spot just below her urinary bladder. The willful blond looked at him at the last minute as if to ask what was going on, but it was too late. Hooking his two impaling fingers quickly upward, while simultaneously pressing forcefully inward and down on her belly just above her pubic bone, James compressed Anna's brimming bladder swiftly and with no warning. "Our little girl's gotta pee," James said jubilantly at the precise moment of compression. The results were spectacular. It all happened so quickly, there was no way Anna could prepared herself. If the truth be known, she doubted that she could have done much to prevent the appallingly humiliating incident anyway. Anna really had to pee. In fact, even as she heard the man's gleeful cry and saw the wicked gleam in his eyes, her hot urine was spraying out of her with the force of a fire hose. "That's a good girl," James cooed, grinning at Anna's obvious distress. "Just let it all come out for Uncle James," the small man purred as he pressed upward rhythmically inside of her vaginal passage, forcing her bladder to contract again and again, literally pumping what urine remained inside of Anna out of her and onto the palm of his hand. Anna couldn't believe all of this was happening to her. It had to be some kind of diabolical nightmare or evil hallucination. Why just that morning she'd awakened in her own bed, in her own house with all the creature comforts money could buy. Staring down at the evil little troll who stood grinning between her knees, Anna felt his filthy fingers pushing and prodding inside of her. More than anything in the world, Anna wanted to wake up and roll over in her bed at home, but instead she felt yet another trickle of hot liquid dribble down between her buttocks. Anna couldn't remember ever having felt so utterly defiled and filthy. When the first jet of urine had burst forth from her, much of the acrid smelling liquid had ricocheted of James' hand and sprayed all over her inner thighs and her belly, leaving the blond celebrity wet from her knees to her navel. Anna Kournikova felt supremely wretched. Both James and Tony knew that they'd created more work for themselves, but it was worth it. Although the two of them would have to spend extra time cleaning the girl, both men understood the significance of what had just happened. Forced urination can be used as an extremely effective tool for eroding self-image. In fact it's the basis for the entire TYTC program of public bathing and hygiene, and the proof is in the pudding. The once haughty teenager appeared crushed. Her broad shoulders were slumped forward and her proud gaze downcast. Anna did glance up briefly at James when he placed the palm of his right hand onto the warm, damp surface of her belly, but when he dipped his fingertip into the little puddle of urine which had pooled in her belly button, she looked away in disgust. "Why the long face, my child?" Tony asked in a fatherly tone of voice as he raised Anna's face with three fingers beneath her chin. Anna didn't know whether to spit at the man or burst into tears. She chose the former. Tony had worked with many, many young ladies over the nearly eight years he'd been with the Center, and he knew that although miracles do happen, they don't happen overnight. So as Tony wiped Anna's spittle from his left cheek, he smiled at his partner, James, and winked. Being the professional men that they were, neither felt the slightest bit discouraged. "It's all in a day's work," Tony thought to himself. "OK then," Tony said placing his hands together in front of his face. "Let's get her cleaned up and press on. We're going to run short of time before too long," he spoke mostly for the benefit of his colleague. "Miss Kournikova," he said addressing the irate teenager. "I am afraid I am going to have to insist that you cooperate in the interest of time." Looking up at the big man in white, Anna put up a bold front. "And what if I don't, big boy," she said defiantly. "What more can you do to me?" She glared at Tony with all the contempt she could muster. "Are you gonna rape me? Been there, done that," she hissed coldly. "Besides, I don't think your little pip-squeak pervert friend can even get it up," Anna added with a smirk in James' direction. She felt much better. Her old confidence was coming back. She would beat these deranged monsters. Neither man spoke for several moments, then at last it was Tony who broke the uncomfortable silence. "This is your final warning, Miss Kournikova. You will remain silent while James and I finish up with you other than to respond to our questions, or you will be corrected," the Handler said in a calm controlled voice. "I hope I've made myself clear," he concluded, and that was the end of the conversation. The timbre of the man's voice worried Anna a little, but she'd faced down tougher opponents before. She thought about firing off another salvo of insults, particularly ones aimed at the little troll named James, but decided to save her strength and not waste words on these two. Besides, it sounded like their heinous examination was almost over. "What's left, James?" Tony asked his partner. That odd, threatening tone in his voice had vanished. "Well," the little man said as he turned and walked to a nearby supply cabinet. Speaking over his shoulder as he retrieved the few objects they would need, James continued, "We need to get her other end tidied up and record her internal dimensions. Do you want to get her sway and travel out of the way or leave it `til another time?" James asked as he returned to the side of the Cooperation Seat. He'd brought with him a large towel and a big squeeze bottle filled with water. "Let's put the sway and travel off until later. That data isn't quite as critical as the rest. Besides, Rick might wish to perform those tests himself," Tony said and nudged his partner with his elbow. Both men chuckled. "When we're done, remind me to fit her with a breast supporter just in case her night partner doesn't want to hold her with his hands." James nodded his understanding. "Why don't you get started with the cleanup. I'd like to try my hand at the FCU. I haven't had as much time on it as you have," Tony informed his colleague. "No problem, my friend," James replied. "If you need a hand, just holler." Anna watched the two men warily as James tossed the towel over his shoulder and flipped the cap off the water bottle. Meanwhile Tony moved to the foot of the Cooperation Seat and stepped between Anna's outstretched legs. "Hey, what the..." Anna cried when without the slightest hesitation, James sprayed her down with cold water from her breasts to her belly. He glanced at Tony to see if he wished to correct the girl for her outburst, and received an almost imperceptible shake of the head from his co-worker. James understood completely, knowing that the headstrong teenager was about to receive all the attention she could wish for in just a very few minutes. James waited for Tony to step back before spraying Anna's thighs from her knees inward, paying particular attention to their juncture. Surprisingly the girl didn't object too loudly to the cold shower. Then while Tony assembled the FCU, James began patting Anna down with the big white towel. He started with her thighs and genital area since that's where his partner would soon be working. Teamwork was essential in this effort as it was in all aspects of their work at The Youth Training Center. One of the qualities the Headmaster looked for in potential Handler Candidates is a person's desire to be a team player. Both Tony and James were definitely team players. "Thank you, sir," Tony said politely when James finished with Anna's buttocks. "That should do nicely," he commented. In his hand Tony held an apparatus similar too, but actually quite different from the vaginal hand wand of the Feminine Cleansing Unit. "Do the hoses attach in the same way?" Tony asked his more experience co-worker. "Yup," James answered. "That part is exactly the same." "Thanks," Tony replied, hefting the white plastic anal wand in his right hand. "It's a little heavier," he thought to himself as he went about attaching the two clear vinyl hoses to the clearly marked apertures on butt end of the apparatus. One was labeled "Supply", the other "Discharge". "Seems straight forward enough," Tony muttered gazing down appreciatively at the fully assembled device resting in his big hand. On the exterior the bulbous head of the anal hand wand looked practically identical to its vaginal counterpart. Although the tip was slightly more blunted than the vaginal wand, it too tapered to a slender curved stem. The most noticeable difference in the anal wand was its handle. Whereas the vaginal hand wand ended in a simple cylindrical handle, the anal appliance had what looked like a pistol grip complete with a trigger guard and trigger at the butt end. The reason for the difference may not be readily apparent to the layperson, but it's really quite obvious. Thankfully the wizards at the TYTC Research and Development recognized the potential challenges that staff members such as Tony would face when delving into the anal passages of their young charges and designed in the necessary components. Friction comes to mind as being one problem which must be dealt with. Unlike the vagina which comes thoughtfully equipped with its own lubrication system, the rectum isn't. So unless discomfort is something the user deems appropriate for the job, an artificial lubricant had to be introduced into the "work area". The simplest answer to a problem is often the best answer. More scented oil was added to the cleaning solution. Problem solved. The more difficult issue, however, required a more elegant solution. Although the anal/rectal passage provides an excellent means with which to introduce oneself to a young lady, the fact remains that it does have another function. And that, of course, is waste removal and discharge. Often as not when one goes exploring in the "out back", one meets with obstructions in the form of feces. "Just give her an enema," you say. Granted that would be one way to deal with the problem, but it kind of defeats the whole reason that the Feminine Cleansing Unit was developed, and that was to provide the Handlers with a self-contained sanitation device that's reasonably portable, easy to use and doesn't make a mess. If you've ever given a girl an enema, then you know how messy it can get. R&D sought to provide the TYTC staff with a tool that was sanitary and could be used practically anywhere. The FCU is just such a unit. For housed within the pistol grip handle of the anal hand wand is a small but very powerful high speed turbine. The turbine is powered by ducting a part of the cleaning fluid stream through it after first boosting the pressure at the pump. Naturally, the flow rate is reduced again before being injected into Guest to avoid discomfort and possible injury. The turbine in turn drives a flexible shaft housed inside of a central conduit in the wand body and connected to a set of stainless steel macerator blades located in the head of the apparatus. The reason that the tip of the wand head on the anal device is more blunt than its vaginal counterpart is because there is an iris aperture in the its end which is opened by depressing the trigger in the handle of the wand. In practice then, when an obstruction is detected, the operator simply squeezes the trigger, and deep inside of the Guest's rectal passage the iris dilates, admitting the obstacle (usually feces) into the chopper chamber where it is quickly and efficiently macerated into particles small enough to be carried away in the effluent discharge hose. The water turbine delivers power to the macerator from the moment the anal wand is powered up, so unlike the vaginal appliance which is virtually silent, the anal device emits a constant high pitch whine much like a dentists drill, but not as loud. Some Guests experience mild anxiety because of this and later models will no doubt be much quieter, but all in all it's and elegant device. Problem solved. "Hmm, only a size six," Tony muttered under his breath as he knelt down and inspected the butt of Anna's CAP Device which had the sizing code printed on its end. Then smiling at her from between her thighs Tony said, "I think we can do better than a size six, my dear." Anna had no idea what he was talking about, but didn't like the sound of it anyway. James had finished toweling her off and was amusing himself with her breasts which angered Anna to no end, and it was extremely distracting. However, by design her attention instantly became focused the moment that Tony took hold of the end of her CAP. A most unladylike grunt escaped the blond tennis star and a violent shudder passed through her when the Handler deftly extracted the little torpedo from her interior in one swift motion. When Tony held it up for her to view, Anna stared at the six inch long black cylinder which had been forcibly inserted into her rear end and remained for the better part of the day. Anna felt inexplicably disoriented for a second, as she experience mixed emotions at the sight of the device. Disgust, certainly, but what else? Longing perhaps? It is truly amazing how quickly a girl becomes accustomed to her CAP Device. What begins as discomfort soon becomes a source of comfort, and more often than not when the device is later removed, feelings of loss and longing and emptiness emerge. Females can be puzzling creatures, but not to the dedicated staff of Handlers at The Youth Training Center. Tony set the CAP aside then knelt down so that Anna could just see the top of his head above her pubic mons. James seemed to be contented to pinch her nipples, rolling them between his fingers until they were erect and hard. Anna, of course, found this to be quite demeaning, for any display of arousal on her part at the hands of these men was something she sincerely wished to avoid. When the high pitched whining sound started, Anna looked fearfully in James' direction, but the man simply smiled at her and winked. Then when she felt something smooth and cold touch her "back there", she let out a startled squeak. James smiled and brought a finger to his lips, "shooshing" her. The Handler could almost gauge the progress of the anal wand into Anna's body by the changes in her facial expression and the size of her eyes. "Huhuh," she inhaled a rapid shuddering breath just as the whirring sound of the turbine became muted. Although Tony hadn't had a lot of experience with the FCU to date, he had a light touch. Pushing against the resistance of Anna's anal sphincter he watched her dilate until suddenly the broader head of the hand wand literally popped into her rectum. He heard her gasp and felt her clamp down on the wand. Then when he flipped on the pump/filtration unit, her flat tummy heaved outward as the cleaning solution began to flow into her. "Easy, Miss Kournikova," Tony murmured. "Just relax now, my dear," he spoke softly, concentrating on the business at hand. Tony monitored the color and clarity of the liquid in the discharge hose as per his training, noting that it had a slightly darker tint to it than her vaginal effluent. Tony advanced the wand ahead by an inch or two, finding that in spite of her instinctive efforts to clamp down on the device the increased oil to water ratio of the cleaning solution made the going much easier. Again Anna's belly heaved and her inner thighs started to spasm. Halting his ingress for the moment, Tony worked the wand around a little until the discharge hose ran almost clear. Then he proceeded. The combined length of the head and shaft of the FCU anal wand was approximately ten inches with the ten degree bend in its shaft after the first four. Tony had just passed the four inch mark and was using the angled shaft to stretch the girl's rectal walls in order to ensure a thorough cleaning, when he detected his first obstruction. Falling back once again on his training, Tony whispered soothingly, "Nice and easy, Miss Kournikova. Relax your muscles, please." Anna could only moan softly in response. It was as though her thoughts had become frozen, locked onto the slowly advancing pressure and warmth that sought to invade the very core of her being. Never before had she experience such an all consuming sensation. It was nothing short of riveting in its exquisite intensity. Tony tried again to proceed, but she remained blocked. Yes, he could have resorted to the macerator, but he'd learned through experience that one should never underestimate the potential power of a girl's anal or even vaginal grip. In fact, Tony's friend and colleague, the Coach, had developed a program of vaginal weight lifting for the girls. Tony had personally witnessed one young lady lift nearly twenty-five pounds using only her internal muscles. It was very impressive. With this in mind, the Handler looked up at his partner. "You busy?" Tony asked. "No not really," James replied as he continued to knead the supple flesh of Anna's right breast. "You got a problem?" "Yeah, we have a little blockage back here, but it could just be a case of nerves. You mind checking at the front door and see if she's clamping down unconsciously." "No problem,:" James replied cheerfully. "Always glad to help." James watched the firm mass of Anna's breast jiggle to a stop after he released her. "God, I'd hate to see those babies go under the knife," he thought to himself. Professionally, though, James understood that large pendulous breasts presented a huge problem with regards to Free Radical Stimulation, or FRS for short. And over time as gravity takes its toll, the problem would only get worse. "Too bad," James thought. Smiling warmly at the befuddled young blond, James reached down and placed his hand on her. "So how are we doing, sweetheart?" he murmured as he rubbed her firmly two or three times then entered her vaginally with his middle finger. Anna's eyes widened noticeably, and she parted her lips slightly revealing her sparkling and painfully white teeth. "Are we making it hard for Tony to care for us?" James cooed in his infuriating way as he began to move his disgusting digit slowly in and out. Anna shuddered violently as the sensation of having both of her abdominal passages occupied brought back an unwelcome memory. She'd lied, you see, during the interview portion of her exam. Well, actually she'd only omitted a small, but significant part of her sexual history. It had happened two years ago near the end of the French Open. Anna had been forced to retire in the early rounds of the championship because of a foot injury, but she'd stayed around for the parties. They had great parties at the French. She'd gotten really drunk at one such gathering, and was flirting with a couple of the locals. One of the guys was really cute and Sergei was in Toronto at a hockey game, and one thing had lead to another, and well... A good bit of the evening was pretty sketchy in Anna's memory which was probably for the best. She remembered leaving the party with the good looking boy after successfully dodging her body guard. The young man had taken her to a "friend's" house where they'd smoked a bunch of pot. The next thing Anna recalled was going to the boy's room and hopping into the sack with him. Circumstances progressed as one might expect and then suddenly there were two guys in the bed with her. She remembered lying on her side with one man facing her and another close behind her. She could still feel their hair covered bodies pressing against hers, crushing her between them and hurting her deeply. Anna had been way to far out of it to resist, especially since there were two of them, and as a result they'd managed to have their way with her for a very long time. The rest was pretty much a blur, and Anna could only recall bits and pieces of the next several hours. The thing that was most troubling to the comely blond athlete was that she wasn't entirely sure that there had been only two men in her bed that night, or at least not the same two. She'd awakened late the next morning alone. The bed was a wreck, looking as though someone had staged a professional wrestling match in it. Anna couldn't remember every having been that sore after making love before, and when at last she found her way to the living room and hobbled through the doorway, there were four guys lounging around talking among themselves. All four of them looked up at her hungrily when she entered, and all four of them were grinning. Anna shuddered from the memory, and also from the expert attentions of her current companions. Her spirits plunged as she recognized that once again two men were having their way with her and again, there was nothing she could do about it. Anna felt dirty and cheep. "I don't detect any undo vaginal activity," James commented as he continued his tactile reconnaissance. "I'd have to say that she's truly blocked." Then as an aside he added, "Geez...This young lady really needs to see the Coach!" Tony nodded. "Very well then, let's see if we can't help to unburden you a bit, Miss Kournikova," the Handler said, glancing over her pubic mons at Anna's face. While the blond athlete looked on with growing trepidation, Tony moved the hand wand around a little until he was satisfied that he'd located the foremost bulk of the blockage, then he depressed the trigger in the pistol grip. Deep inside of the anxious teenager the iris aperture in the blunt end of the FCU dilated, admitting the tip end of a rather sizeable turd. Immediately, the discharge hose leading down to the pump/filtration unit bucked once then twice, and it's contents turned dark and opaque. The steady muffled whirring of the macerator suddenly deepened in pitch as the turbine came under load. Inside of Anna's rectum, fecal matter was drawn into the chopper chamber, reduced to a fine particle suspension then injected into the discharge effluent flow. As Tony continued to direct the wand here and there inside the girl's rectal passage, the FCU emitted muted, oscillating sounds as it encountered material of varying density. The sound reminded those present of a tiny garbage disposal working at peak capacity. Anna was in a state of near shock. She hadn't been aware that she had to use the bathroom, most likely because the volume of fecal matter in her bowel hadn't reached a critical level yet. However, as the high speed stainless steel blades growled in her belly, hungrily digesting everything in their path, the stunned teenager could actually feel herself being emptied. Never before had she experienced such an exquisite sensation of invasion and supreme violation. Anna's mouth literally fell open as she stared up at James from the confines of the Cooperation Seat with unseeing eyes. Her tummy muscles flexed and heaved, as intermittent wet suctioning sounds filled the otherwise quiet exam room. Anna soon forgot all about the fact that James continued to finger fuck her as the loathsome cleaning process continued for what seemed like an eternity. Between her quivering thighs, Tony concentrated on the work at hand, moving the anal wand of the Feminine Cleansing Unit in and out while slowly rotating the pistol grip handle one way and then the other. The discharge hose continued to buck and jerk from time to time whenever an obstruction was encountered and Tony activated the macerator, but before too long, the effluent cleaning solution flowing out of the blond tennis star gradually turned a lighter shade of brown, eventually becoming practically clear. At last Anna felt an unusual tugging sensation at her anal opening and realized that Tony was attempting to remove the horrible device. Instinctively, however, as her bowel sensed the egress of a mass, her anal sphincter tried to get into the act by clamping down in order to regulate traffic. "Relax your muscles, please, Miss Kournikova," her Handler requested as he continued to tug gently on the pistol grip of the FCU. To Anna it felt like she'd taken a huge dump, when at last her anal sphincter capitulated, allowing the broader head of the wand to be withdrawn. From Tony's vantage point, the FCU wand literally popped from the clutching confines of the tennis star's back side, and right before his eyes, he watched her contract and close. Before her gates shut completely, however, Tony reached out with his left hand, and without compunction slipped his middle finger into Anna as far as he could reach. Anna groaned under her breath as the man began to rotate his finger inside of her, probing about indiscriminately. The sensation was nowhere nearly as invasive as what she'd just been forced to endure, but the emotional impact of once again having a stranger shove his filthy finger up her rear end without her permission was enormously disturbing to Anna. She was beginning to imagine that she was running some kind of a reprehensible "Open House". Little did the blond celebrity know, but that very thought was immensely significant. For she was beginning to believe that her body and its various orifices and entrances existed to be explored and enjoyed by others at their leisure. "She feels pretty clean to me," Tony commented casually as he slipped his finger out of Anna. Meanwhile James removed his finger from her vaginal passage, and for the first time in a very long time, Anna existed as a single entity. "I'm impressed with the FCU's effectiveness anally," Tony said to his partner as he and James prepared for the next phase of the examination. Anna had been so absorbed by the loathsome cleaning process that she failed to notice when James temporarily exited her field of view. Soon the Handler returned carrying yet another ominous looking device which he handed to Tony. As though he were passing the time of day, Tony began to explain, "This instrument, Miss Kournikova, is called the Portal Micrometer." Anna eyed the device with disgust. "As I mentioned earlier, we are at that point in our examination where we need to collect a few personal measurements from you. Based upon the data we gather, your Principal Handler, Rick, will be able to put together a more effective training and exercise program for you, Tony explained as without further ado he stepped on another of the Cooperation Seat's control pedals, elevating the specialized examination chair and positioning Anna's genital area at the approximate level of his chest. Anna suddenly had an unbidden mental picture of an automobile on a lift in a garage. Tony then held the phallic device up and made a few adjustments while Anna stared at the evil looking instrument with obvious misgivings. Due to its rather distinctive shape, there was little doubt in the blond celebrity's mind where the repulsive thing would end up. The Portal Micrometer is the latest evolution of the older Vaginal Micrometer, used for many years by the dedicated staff of The Youth Training Center. Like its predecessor, the Portal Micrometer is shaped like an elongated phallus, measuring approximately one inch in diameter and eighteen inches in length. Smaller sizes are of course available for the very young. Made of white plastic, the length of the shaft is calibrated in both inches and centimeters with inlayed black bands. One end of the device tapers to a rounded point, while the other is blunted. On the blunt end can be found the controls. There is a round, black button covered with a protective rubber boot on one side of the instrument along with two smaller silver control buttons immediately below the LCD display. Using rows of tiny pressure sensors located along the length of the device, in the hands of a trained individual, this sophisticated device measures and records muscle tension exerted at full contraction as compared to full relaxation. From this information, its tiny computer calculates the serviceable volume of any passage. Additionally, data on Muscle Memory (M&M's) and Internal Grip Strength (IGS) can be obtained and recorded, useful in evaluating a girl's true Carrying Capacity. "You people disgust me!" Anna was only just able to exclaim bitterly before being penetrated. "Silence, Miss Kournikova," James ordered. Placing a hand on Anna's right breast, the professional man grasped the very outer edge of her areola between his thumb and index finger. "Guests shall remain silent while being attended to," he said, quoting the Seventh Standard for what seemed like the thousandth time. As he spoke, James gave her satiny pink flesh a little warning pinch, causing the comely blond to wince. Meanwhile, between her thighs, Tony used his fingers to spread Anna's labia minora as he introduced the tip of the Portal Micrometer into her vaginal opening. "Look at me please, Miss Kournikova," the Handler instructed as with practiced ease, he slid the smooth plastic instrument into Anna's vagina. Ring after calibrated ring disappeared into moist pink flesh until a slight resistance was felt. Then after releasing the blond's inner lips, Tony slid the thumb of his free hand up to her clitoral shroud and using a slow swirling action, he began to stimulate her. Anna groaned softly, and a prolonged shiver passed through her as raw impulses of delight raced to her brain along enhanced neural pathways. The untrained observer might think that the Handler was actually attempting to please the young tennis pro, however this was certainly not the case. At the Center any and all sexual stimulation of the female is performed with an express purpose in mind. In this instance, Tony was seeking to arouse the headstrong blond in order to facilitate more complete penetration. Surprisingly, the average vaginal canal is only three inches long, possibly four in women who have given birth. This may seem short in relation to the male appendage, but during sexual arousal the cervix will lift upwards, and the fornix may also extend upwards into the abdomen for as long as necessary in order to receive the penis or other volume. Similarly, following intercourse and insemination, the contraction of the vagina will allow the cervix to rest inside the fornix, which in its relaxed state is a bowl-shaped fitting, perfect for the pooling of semen. The female reproductive system is truly marvelous in its design, but it takes an informed individual to utilize its full potential. And Tony, of course, was just such a man. Feeling a series of fitful contractions transmitted to his practiced hand through the hard plastic shaft of the Portal Micrometer, Tony recognized that his efforts were beginning to pay off, thanks in part to the wonder drug, Thelazine. Easing the instrument forward as the girl opened up for him, the Handler counted the calibration rings as they vanished inside of her. "That's my girl," Tony muttered when he again felt resistance. Smiling up at the blond, he commented with a wink, "We just passed the eight inch mark." Anna glared at him scornfully. "Now what kind of a look is that, my dear," Tony inquired with a hurt look. "I should think that you'd be proud to know that you can accept a reasonably sizeable lover, Miss Kournikova. It's an important attribute for a girl to have." Again he winked at her. "Fuck you!" Anna mouthed. "I see," Tony responded and glanced in James' direction. Anna groaned softly as without warning, Tony reached out and slipped his middle finger fully up into her rectum. "Now, Miss Kournikova, I would like for you to please bear down on my finger," the Handler spoke in a clinical tone. It has been known for quite some time that the muscle groups which govern vaginal contraction are sympathetically linked to the rectal sphincter groups. With sufficient instruction a young lady can be taught to control these two muscle sets independently, but to the untrained female, differentiation between the two is difficult. This instinctive sympathetic coupling of muscle groups can be used to the advantage of a trained examiner, since most young ladies have little difficulty bearing down upon an object inserted into her nether passage, whereas vaginal agility can take weeks or months to master. "Up yours!" Anna hissed, glaring icily between her thighs at Tony's passive face. "Oww!" she gasped and snapped her gaze in James' direction when the other man, using his vast knowledge of the most sensitive areas of the female breast, gave her a correcting pinch. "You skinny little prick!" she snarled, her Russian accent becoming markedly pronounced in her rage. "Owww!" she squealed, receiving another correction. "Silence, Miss Kournikova," James stated flatly. "Guests shall remain silent while being attended to," he droned. "Squeeze my finger, please, Miss Kournikova," Tony ordered from between her widely splayed thighs. "The sooner you learn to cooperate, the easier it will be for all of us," the Handler explained in his easygoing and utterly enraging tone of voice. Anna stared at the man with renewed wonder and thought, "How can he be so indifferent? I mean, for all intents and purposes he and his evil little partner are in the process of raping me. Are any of these men even human beings?" Then she groaned softly and her nostrils flared as the man's impaling finger twisted and probed deeper into one of Anna's most private spaces. Unconsciously she bore down on the invasive digit. "That's better," Tony responded, glancing down at the LCD readout of the Portal Micrometer. "Again, please," he requested as he depressed one of the small silver control buttons on the handle of the instrument. At the same time, he hooked his finger slightly inside of Anna, stimulating her rectal sphincter reflex once more. Inside the anal passage of the indignant blond tennis star, her powerful ringed sphincter contracted around the invasive foreign object in an attempt to excrete it from her body. Simultaneously the series of muscles responsible for propelling the fetus down the length of the birth canal during childbirth flexed, causing the convoluted walls of Anna's vagina to close around the shaft of the imbedded Portal Micrometer. Tiny contacts arranged in multiple rows along the entire length of the instrument recorded individual pressure values exerted upon each by the girl's vaginal embrace. The device's micro-computer then calculated an average vaginal tension value which it flashed in pounds per square inch on the tiny LCD display. The data would be used in order to determine several important personal measurements. Not the least of which would be to benchmark Anna's Internal Grip Strength, or IGS and Muscle Memory (M&M's). The truly remarkable feature of the Portal Micrometer was yet to be demonstrated to the angry young celebrity, however, and Anna who currently was trying to take her mind off the blatant violation of her personal space by imagining the retribution that her "powerful friends" would visit upon these despicable men in white, was in for a shock. "Ready?" Tony inquired of his partner. Anna gave James a questioning look when the smaller man abruptly removed his hand from her breast, and she was about to violate standards again and inquire what was going on, when suddenly she found out. There was no question that the young tennis pro's body was in excellent shape, at least externally as she bucked violently upward to the limits of the restraint bands of the Cooperation Seat. Falling back into the fiberglass seat, Anna lay stunned and breathless while between her legs, Tony released the blunt end of the specialized instrument momentarily and wiped his forearm across his coverall bib. "I thought we'd taken care of that," he said in an ironic tone of voice as he winked at James. James only shrugged good naturedly. When the Portal Micrometer emitted its nearly 200 watt/second pulse of electrical energy deep into Anna's interior, by design it caused every muscle in her lower abdomen to abruptly contract with remarkable zeal. Her urinary bladder was no exception, and despite the fact that the smaller man had forced Anna to urinate for him a few minutes earlier, either a small amount remained in her bladder, or more likely, she had produced more. In any case, that was the source of the wetness which Tony now dabbed away on his clothing. Every TYTC Handler is trained to deal with unanticipated excretions of one sort or another during the many phases of the conditioning process. It's all part of the job. "Let's see how we did, my dear," Tony muttered when he caught Anna's stupefied gaze. Grasping the shaft of the high-tech white plastic phallus, the Handler seated it gently into the stunned blond until once again he felt resistance. "Nine, point five," he said, looking at the telltale black calibration bands. "Let's just relax now, Miss Kournikova," Tony murmured as he reached between her legs and placed the palm of his free hand flat onto her tummy. "You're abdominal muscles are quite fit, my dear," the man commented offhandedly as he massaged her belly slowly. Meanwhile he began to move the Portal Micrometer slowly in and out. "Oh, God," Anna's mind cried in dismay as she slowly recovered from the brutal internal attack on her person. In and out...in and out...in and out, the horrible instrument moved, and as the blond teenager fought to regain her equilibrium, unconsciously her femininity began to respond to the perception of copulation. Meanwhile the Portal Micrometer recorded each and every twitch and tremor of her vaginal walls no matter how insignificant. Tony felt the young woman begin to relax both internally and externally as he slowly and expertly wielded the phallic shaped instrument. "Look at me, please, Miss Kournikova," the professional man ordered from his position directly between Anna's knees. Tony was pleased to see how much more readily the teenager complied with his request, and with an affectionate smile, the Handler looked into her hazy green eyes and advanced the instrument to the ten inch mark. Her face clearly portrayed her sense of invasion, as Tony felt her clutch the impaling device. The Handler knew that the Micrometer would record that contraction and time stamp it for it had been significant both in power and because from her expression, Tony had deduced that the young woman was becoming womb focused. He depressed the button, activating the pulse discharge one more time. "Much better, my dear," Tony spoke to the nearly paralyzed celebrity. Glancing downward, he made a mental note of the fact that Anna Kournikova's vagina presently contained nearly eleven and a half inches of hard white plastic. Rotating the handle of the Portal Micrometer so that the LCD faced upward, the Handler began to rattle off the numerical values that scrolled across the tiny screen to James who stood nearby, noting them in Anna's file. "P...ppplease..no..m..more!" Anna gasped after several minutes. Her face was streaked with perspiration, and her expression was wild with fear. "Be still, Miss Kournikova," Tony cautioned a little less severely, knowing that the blond was weak and uncertain. "We are finished with the one passage. I'll give you a minute to catch your breath before we proceed to the other," the Handler informed the unhappy tennis pro. "Oh, and by the way," he said, interrupting her before she could argue. "You will be happy to know," he began as he consulted the LCD display on the remarkable device he'd only recently extracted from Anna's vagina, "that according to my instrument, instead of eight or nine inches, you can safely entertain a lover who is considerably better endowed." Tony grinned at Anna's expression of shocked confusion. The Portal Micrometer gathers a good deal more information about a subject In addition to her depth capacity. By introducing a high energy pulse into a young lady's interior, the Portal Micrometer records her Internal Grip Strength in full contraction, in partial contraction during copulative stimulation, as well as at rest. Then by comparing these various values and applying a specific algorithm, a Guest's Passage Volume can be calculated. Indeed, according to the Portal Micrometer, Miss Anna Kournikova can safely accept a male organ or other artificial device of approximately eleven to eleven and one half inches in length, two and one half inches in diameter or ninety, point two, seven, five cubic inches of mass into her vaginal passage. Much to her dismay, after an all to brief cessation of the examination, similar readings were taken in Anna's other abdominal passage using the very same instrument. Then while the famous blond tennis pro lay gasping for breath within the confines of the diabolical Cooperation Seat, Tony and James recorded their findings into her permanent records: Vaginal IGS - 1.8 psi (poor) Rectal IGS - 5.3 psi (moderately acceptable) Vaginal M&M's - Poor Rectal M&M's - Acceptable Vaginal Passage Volume - 90.275 cu in Rectal Passage Volume - 51.5 cu in Total Abdominal Volume - 141.775 cu in Mind you, these were benchmark values. As her training progresses there would be marked improvement, and for this reason the calculation of her true Carrying Capacity would be done at a later time. "I think that about does it," Tony said with his maddening smile as he went about cleaning the unwholesome device he'd only recently removed from Anna's back side. "Can you think of anything we've missed, James, my friend; any last minute considerations before we call for escort?" he asked his partner who was in the process of lowering the vile seat in which Anna was bound. "Not that I know of," the smaller man responded. "I think we've covered everything. What do you think, Miss Kournikova?" James said with a wicked grin. Reaching out unexpectedly James placed his hand onto Anna's right breast and began to kneed her supple flesh. Anna glared at the detestable little man but managed to remain silent in spite of his loathsome touch. "Just get it over with, you little prick," she screamed in her thoughts. Little did she know that she might just as well have vocalized her feelings, because James, like every Handler in the employ of The Youth Training Center, read her facial expressions and body language like an owner's manual. James saw her sigh with relief when at last he removed his hand from her. There was little doubt in anyone's mind that the young blond despised him even more so than his partner, even though it had been Tony who had performed the majority of the exam. Anna was beginning to believe that this part of her ordeal might just be over when James said something to his partner that made her blood run cold. "You know, Tony, there is one more thing, but I can handle it alone if you need to get going," he added when his more senior co-worked turned and acknowledged him. "No problem at all, my friend," Tony responded with a knowing smile then glanced in Anna's direction. "In fact her file contains specific instructions that our young celebrity be given preferential treatment and that she be welcomed by all," he added with a wink. "Ahhh goddd!" Anna Kournikova groaned loudly. On his way to the door, Tony turned and looked back at the happy couple in the center of the white tiled room. He watched for a moment as his colleague flexed his thighs, driving another inch of himself into the young blond's nether passage. Although James was slight of build, he was exceptionally strong, and having seen the man work with other Guests in the past, Tony knew that James was quite well endowed. "Silence, Miss Kournikova," the smaller Handler instructed his headstrong blond companion as he began a slow rhythm. As Tony turned for the door he heard a most unladylike and visceral grunt come from the direction of the Cooperation Seat. "Slap...Slap...Slap" the sound of thigh upon buttock echoed briefly into the hallway until the door whispered closed silently. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <story-submit@asstr.org>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-admin@asstr.org> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+