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TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 16
by Joy Paine
Index words:     breast whipping b#    crushing breasts c#


NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no
resemblance to any person living or dead.  The exception is that
I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time.


"And now for the lesson," Chuck said happily. Susie screamed when she saw
the whip that he was taking from the "equipment" suitcase. Or more like a
rod than a whip, like the ones she had read about in Dickens. The whip 
had
no lash, and was just a flexible switch, about two feet long. Chuck 
walked
around her, savoring her helpless nudity, swishing the switch through the
air as he looked her over.
                                                                b#
And then the blow. Full force, across the upper slopes of both breasts. A
thin red welt crossed the flawless ivory surface. Susie's scream tore her
throat.

Chuck rubbed his hand across the welt, pressing those damned spiders as 
he
did so. "Not bad," he muttered, "but a little unsporting. It's much more
fun with a moving target."

The other kids knew what was next. One of them grabbed one of Susie's
wrists, pulled it downward. The rope through the pulley yanked her other
wrist toward the ceiling, making her reach painfully to arm's length. 
Then
another boy pulled that wrist down, hauling the first one up. By mutual
consent, they set up a rhythm, so that Susie was forced to extend one arm
to full length, then the other. And again, and again.

She knew what "moving target" they had in mind, even before Chuck reached
into the suitcase and took out another whip. A long lash, this time, with
a knot on the end. He snapped it with unerring aim, driving excruciating
pain through her breasts as they danced up and down. And every now and
then it hit on one of the Spiders, multiplying the pain.

Then one of the other boys took over the whip. And another. They didn't
limit their attentions exclusively to Susie's tits, even though those 
were
the main focus of their attention. Every now and then, one would snap the
lash into her cunt, or walk around behind her for a few whacks at her
ass. Or sometimes they would use two whips, and work on tits and ass at
the same time.

But bit by bit, they began to tire of the sport. After all, foreplay was
fun, but they had really come here for the fucking. And they were ready.
Boy, were they ever ready . . .

"OK, let's get our little whore ready for the main event," Chuck said at
last. "It's Crusher time."
                                                             c#
Susie had already guessed what the Crushers would be, but she still 
gasped
in horror as they took the Satanic device from the suitcase and held it 
up
for her inspection, explaining in loving detail what it would do to her.

They adjusted the device carefully to her dimensions, buckling the 
support
strap around her neck, and the other strap around her back, so that those
awful jaws were positioned properly around her breasts. Then carefully,
with cruel deliberateness that prolonged the agony to the breaking point,
they started tightening the tension strap.

Susie screamed again and again, long piercing shrieks of pure agony, as
the clamps closed mercilessly on the tender flesh of her breasts. 
Finally,
they decided that the pain was strong enough "for a background level", 
and
buckled the strap in position. They closed a padlock through the buckle,
to prevent Susie from loosening it until they were ready to let her use
the key.

And then the really diabolical part of the device . . .

They locked a control cable thing onto a pair of rings in the tension
strap -- a long cable that ended in a handle something like the brake 
grip
of a bicycle, that increased the pain drastically whenever the handle was
squeezed. Chuck played with it a bit, not enough to make Susie faint, but
enough to impress on her the importance of immediate obedience.

"OK, Susie," he taunted. "It's fuck time. You guys take her into the
bathroom and see that she puts her diaphragm on, while Angie warms me 
up."
====================================================
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 17
by Joy Paine
Index words:     rape r#   lesbian l#

NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no
resemblance to any person living or dead.  The exception is that
I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time.


Angie had done her "warming up" well, Susie couldn't help noticing as
Chuck approached her.
                                                                 r#
"We'll do it in the missionary position", Chuck told her, "just like you
do it for your husband, I imagine."

The mention of Jim sent new pain through Susie's heart. And she knew that
they knew that, too. Last night's ordeal had been bad enough, but this
time she was actually going to take those revolting objects into her
private parts, to accept their seed into her womb. Well, not quite the
womb, thanks to her diaphragm, but this would still be adultery, in the
most literal sense of the term.

And Chuck was making it as ugly as possible. He made her call him
"darling" and "sweetheart", and other endearments, and insisted that she
take his shaft and actually guide it in with her own hand. And then he
made her describe to him every sensation she felt as he entered her and
pumped to that revolting climax.

One thing, it was well lubricated with Angie's juices, so there was no
pain of entry. But the disgust of following her! And Chuck knew what she
was thinking, too, pointing out that "this time, it's you who are taking
sloppy seconds, Susie dear".

One by one, and then for seconds, and in some cases thirds, they ravished
her on her own bridal bed, leaving her feeling completely filthy and 
used.
But finally even this agony ended, and the boys started getting dressed.
                                                              l#
And then they realized that Angie hadn't been taking part in Susie's
defilement. Well, not a direct part, anyway. Not since the whipping, that
is. "How about you, Angie?" one of the boys said playfully. "We know you
don't have the rag on, or you wouldn't have been so willing to warm us 
up.
Aren't you going to take a turn with little Sue-Sue?"

Angie smiled, that slow wicked smile that Susie knew meant that she was
planning something particularly cruel. "It's OK, fellows." she reassured
them. "I'm going to spend the whole night with our little pigeon. And 
just
to make sure that I have a great time, I'm going to ask you to leave the
Crushers on her. You can put away the rest of the equipment, though. And
don't forget to lock the door when you go out."

============================================================
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 18
by Joy Paine
Index words:     enema e#     rape r#   sodomy s#

NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no
resemblance to any person living or dead.  The exception is that
I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time.

Angie had great plans for Susie's first over-nighter. First, the 
Frenching,
with a violent climax, while she squeezed the Crushers until Susie almost
passed out from the agony.
                                                           e#
Next came the enema. "I don't want you having to get up in the night."

She made Susie lie on her own bed for the enema, taunting her with the
threat that it would run all over the bed if Susie lost control, and then
making her hold it inside her until Susie thought that she was surely
going to burst; finally letting her dash for the bathroom, to get rid of
the painful and disgusting load.

"There now," said Angie. "Now it'll be a couple of days before you have 
to
shit again. And you'll thank me for that, before we're finished."

And then to bed. But first, she buckled a collar around Susie's neck, and
attached it to a couple of straps that were fastened around her own 
thighs,
holding Susie's face to the younger girl's crotch. "We're going to sleep
like this, darling, and Heaven help you if I wake up any time during the
night and find that your tongue isn't inside my cunt."

The Crushers hurt like fire as Susie lay on her tummy, and the Spiders 
bit
cruelly as her weight pressed on her nipples. She didn't get much sleep
that night . . .

In the morning, Angie unbuckled the collar around Susie's neck, and went
with her to the bathroom for morning ablutions. For some reason, Angie
seemed to be watching the clock.
                                                         r#
"Oh, I haven't told you yet, Susie dear, -- we're going to have a visitor
this morning. Just one last fuck, and then I'll leave you alone for the
rest of the weekend. Unless something special comes up," she added as an
afterthought.

Susie's heart sank but, as always, she had no choice. Angie made her keep
the Crushers and Spiders on -- "After all, they might give lover boy some
interesting ideas" -- and then made Susie lie down.

"This John has some special requirements," Angie crooned. "For one thing,
he doesn't want you to know who he is -- after all, he's somebody you 
know
very well -- so you're going to have to wear a blindfold. And of course 
he
can't take any chances on your peeking, so he wants you to be tied up
while he screws you."

Susie had never felt more helpless than when Angie tied her to the brass
bed, arms stretched up over her head, feet drawn up near her wrists, so
hat her "private parts", (as she insisted on thinking of them, even 
though
her hopes of any privacy were fast disappearing) were exposed to 
inspection
and whatever other indignities her visitor might want to inflict on them.
A strap around her waist kept them down near the mattress, however. Angie
proceeded to take a number of pictures "for our scrapbook" before she
fastened on the blindfold, completing Susie's sense of utter 
helplessness.

And then her "visitor" came in. He squeezed the Crushers, and patted the
Spiders, abusing her breasts in the way that Susie had come to expect 
from
all men, and then she felt him spreading the lubricating jelly around the
lips of her cunt. Too much! she thought. with all that lubrication, he'll
take forever to get up enough friction to make him ejaculate.

So I'm becoming a sex maven, she though bitterly.

His rape wasn't very imaginative. He just stuck his thing into her and
started fucking. She could feel his passion rising, and knew that he was
going to come to a quick climax. Thank God for that. And then he pulled
out. What on earth?
                                                         s#
Susie screamed in sheer horror as she felt him ramming his thing, now 
well
lubricated with the jelly and her own sparse juices, into her virgin
asshole. The pain was bearable -- just -- but the sheer disgust at this
perverted act made Susie want to vomit. But she somehow endured this 
final
indignity, and felt his hot venom pouring into her, into the hole that 
had
never been intended for this disgusting use.

And finally he was gone, and Angie was taking off the blindfold and
untying her. "I'll let you take off the Crushers yourself -- here's the
key to the padlock. It'll be great fun to imagine you reaching around
behind your back to unfasten it, especially with the Crushers increasing
the pressure as you stretch around. But you'll make it -- you're a big 
girl
now. The Spiders shouldn't give you any trouble at all, although I'll
admit that I did use the old-fashioned kind of adhesive tape -- the kind
that hurts like hell when you rip it off.

"Be sure you stash the equipment in the suitcase. And I'll be over on
Monday morning, to help you get dressed for school."

=======================================================TORTURED TEACHER
Chapter 19
by Joy Paine
Index words:     humiliation h#    strip s#

NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no
resemblance to any person living or dead.  The exception is that
I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time.


Susie never knew how she survived that weekend. Jim came home on Sunday,
and they went through the motions of making love, but Susie knew that she
was even less satisfying than usual. Her guilt (and the soreness in her
breasts) kept her from making even the most perfunctory responses that 
she
customarily made out of a sense of duty.

She knew that Jim sensed something wrong, but with his customary
generosity he overlooked it -- asking only if she was coming down with 
the
flu, or something. Susie made a noncommittal answer, and Jim was 
satisfied.
With the answer, that is. She didn't see how he could possibly be 
satisfied
with the sex.

And she dreaded going back to school. Angie's comment about the last
rapist being someone she knew had thoroughly unnerved her. She knew that
every man she saw from now on -- the male students, her butcher, the 
police
guard at the crossing -- every one of them would raise in her mind the
suspicion that he was the one.

If she had been alone in this, she was sure that she would have committed
suicide. Or at least run away. But then Jim would suffer the same 
disgrace
that she was feeling. She had to go on, to keep playing the ugly game.

Angie came over before school on Monday morning, to make sure that she
wore those damned Spiders. Taping them on securely, Angie signed her name
with a felt-tip pen, in such a manner that her signature was half on the
tape and half on Susie's young breast. "Just to make sure that you don't
take them off during the day, Susie dear. If you do, then I'll see that 
my
signature is broken, and we can take the appropriate measures to punish
you.

"I don't know exactly what sort of punishment we'd use," she went on, 
"but
my first thought is to make you wear the Crushers to school the next 
day."

And then she taped a Spider over Susie's clit "for good measure". Making
sure that Susie didn't put a bra or panties on, Angie rode to school with
her.

For the rest of the week, Angie wore those damned Spiders. To school, to
the bridge club, even to church choir rehearsal. And it seemed that
someone was always brushing up against her tits, to send fresh pain 
through
her sensitive areolas.

She was almost sure that the Principal knew what was going on  (but how
could he?), as his propositions were getting even more insistent, and his
leer more insolent. He even cupped Susie's breast in his hand one time,
while he tried to kiss her. (Did he even know about the Spiders, she
wondered? Well, anyway, he knew by now that she wasn't wearing a bra.)

And, except for her mounting suspicions, which she tried to dismiss as
paranoia, the weeks became a routine. A dreadful routine, yes, but a
routine none the less. At least once during the week, Angie and the boys
came over for a gang bang, and Angie often slept over with Susie. Even on
the nights she didn't sleep over, Angie showed up in the morning, to make
sure that Susie wore the three spiders, and that she didn't wear any bra
or panties to school.

The boys were still callous when they raped Susie, but they didn't use 
the
Crushers again (thank God!!). Except on Saturday mornings, when Susie's
mystery visitor insisted that she wear both the Crushers and the Spiders.

His routine never varied. First a little torture of her tits, then a
warm-up in her cunt, followed by a butt fuck. And always the blindfold,
and the reminder by Angie that he was someone that Susie knew, and had
seen during the week.
========================================================

TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 20
by Joy Paine
Index words:     the Club c#    interrogation room i#

NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no
resemblance to any person living or dead.  The exception is that
I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time.


It was after the third week of Susie's enslavement that Angie initiated
the next escalation. Everything went as usual that Saturday morning. Jim
was away, and Angie had tied Susie to the bed, with Crushers and Spiders,
and the unknown man had raped her asshole. But this time, as a variation,
Angie didn't take those damned things off. Instead, she supervised 
Susie's
douching of her cunt and rectum, and then watched her while she dressed.

"Nothing fancy, honey -- just mini-skirt and blouse. I'll be able to feed
the control cable out at your waist, and hold it while you drive. It's
such beautiful weather that I think we should go for a ride in the
countryside," she explained.

Susie wasn't fooled for a moment by the girl's off-hand manner -- she
knew that the little bitch was up to some new deviltry. But there wasn't
much she could do about it with those damned Crushers on her breasts.
Meekly, she started up the car, Angie sitting beside her, and started out
the old State road.
                                                                 c#
When they got to the Smith farm, Angie directed Susie to drive up to the
locked gate. A man's voice challenged them from a loudspeaker in the
gate-post. At Angie's direction, Susie told the loudspeaker "It's Angie
and Susie". The gate swung open on remote control, then closed behind 
them
as they drove up the long driveway. "Right up to the barn," Angie 
ordered.

Susie was amazed to see that the barn had been converted into a regular
parking garage, although there weren't any cars there at the moment. She
looked inquiringly at Angie.

"It gets busy at night," Angie explained, "when the party gets going. 
They
keep the cars of the guests out of sight, so they won't arouse the
suspicions of the passers-by. Also, none of the guests runs the risk of
people knowing that he's here," she leered. "Some of the parties get
really rowdy. But you'll see what I mean.

"I told Mrs. Smith that you were going to work for her as hostess," she
added idly.

Susie had a premonition about what the girl meant by "party" and 
"hostess",
but the fear of those Crushers kept her quiet. Anyway, the doors had
closed behind them, and she realized that any resistance would be futile.

Guided by an occasional prod from Angie, Susie got out of the car, and
preceded the younger girl to the door that led through the connecting
passageway into the house. They were met by a woman who looked as if she
had been a wrestler.

"So this is Susie," she chuckled."I see that you're putting those 
Crushers
that I gave you to good use," she added, noticing the control box in
Angie's hand.

"Yeah. I don't think she would have come out here so easily without them.
She's beginning to get a little skittish."

"So much more fun," the big woman replied, taking the control from 
Angie's
hand. "OK, bitch, let's go into the interrogation room."
                                                           i#
The interrogation room was meagerly furnished, with cabinets running 
along
the wall. The door was soundproof, Susie noticed.

The big woman, whom Angie introduced as "the matron", didn't waste any
time. "Strip!" she commanded in a hoarse monosyllable.

Once more, Susie had to bare her body before a stranger. And then they
fastened her wrists to a pair of straps that hung from the ceiling,
holding her in an erect position, but loosely enough so she didn't have
to rise up on her toes.

While Angie fastened Susie's ankles to a pair of rings in the floor,
holding her legs spread apart, the matron turned her attention to the
Spiders. She quickly understood what they were for, and tormented Susie
a bit by pressing them in deeper. She grinned at Susie's cry of pain and
protest.

"Very neat," she commented. "Your work?"

"Mine and Chuck's," Angie replied. "He and I work well as a team."

"I'd like to buy a dozen or so of these for use at the club", the matron
went on. "We have some guests that would go ape over something like 
that."

"No problem," Angie replied.

"In fact, maybe you and Chuck could go on our payroll as consultants."

"We'd like that," Angie assented. "We just love to design things like
this, and I'm sure we could come up with some really great ideas if we
could talk to a few of your guests, and maybe watch them party. And maybe
we could experiment on some of your hostesses with the more cruel 
devices.
It gets to be pretty tiring being the only guinea pig," she added, 
rubbing
her breasts with remembered pain.

"Done!" the big woman said heartily. "And now, Susie baby," she said as
she smeared a little lubricating jelly on her fingers, "let's check out
the working parts."

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