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I have received several complaints that these chapters were not posted.
My apologies. JP
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 21
by Joy Paine
Index words: (none)
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 struggled and squirmed and screamed at the unwelcome invasion of
her body, but the straps held her firmly in place, and her vaginal
muscles
were unable, of course, to keep the intruding finger out. As for her
screams . . .
"Cut down the noise, cunt!" the matron barked. "I love the music, but
it's far too loud for this small room. Besides," she added ominously,
"you want to save your voice for the benefit of the customers. After
all, that's what they're paying for. Well, part of it, anyway."
At a reminder from the Crushers, Susie's screams subsided to a whimper.
"Nice and tight," the matron murmured. Does she know what to do with it,
Angie?"
"Well," Angie smirked, "I don't know first hand, of course. All I can
say from personal experience is that her tongue is really something
else. But I have heard the fellows say that she's a lousy fuck," she
added. "If it hadn't been for the fact that she hates it so much --
and demonstrates that fact so prettily -- I think that they would have
got tired of her long ago."
"No matter," gloated the matron. "We can teach her the proper techniques
in no time at all." Her finger moved on to Susie's asshole. "Now there's
what I'd call tight!" she exclaimed in admiration. "Is her brownie
cherry, by any chance?"
Susie was practically dying of embarrassment, the way these two harpies
were talking about her so intimately, just as if she weren't there at
all. "No," said Angie. "You-know-who has been banging her asshole every
Saturday for the last couple of weeks. He doesn't want her to know who
he is," she went on, in a conspiratorial tone.
The matron laughed uproariously. "The old Masked Rapist bit, hey? I bet
it makes life interesting for little Susie, wondering every time she
meets a man whether he's her Secret Lover."
"I'm not surprised that her hole is so tight, in that case," she
continued."He doesn't have hardly anything to poke a girl with, anyway.
But don't worry, we can stretch it a little, right along while we teach
her how to fuck with it."
"Can I watch while you do that?" Angie asked.. "Maybe I could pick up a
few pointers myself."
The matron chuckled. "Sure thing, baby. If you want, we can even set up
a training session for you . If you really co-operate, and with a body
like yours, you could easily become the best fuck in the county. Except
maybe for Susie," she added as an afterthought. "Maybe you'd even like to
work for us?" she added hopefully.
Angie thought it over. "It just might be fun," she admitted. "But I'd
have to be allowed to pick my own customers, and to say just how far
they'd be permitted to go."
"Maybe," the big woman grunted. "You'd have to be careful that the
other girls didn't learn about your independence, though. It would be
bad for morale -- both theirs and yours. They'd really make life Hell
for you if they thought you were a fink. And the Johns would have to
think that they had free rein. Maybe we could work it out, though.
"But meanwhile, let's get little Susie calibrated."
"Calibrated?" Angie echoed. "That sounds awfully scientific. What does
it mean in ordinary English?"
"Very simple," the matron replied in an offhand tone. "We're going to
find out how much pain our little treasure can take before she passes
out."
====================================================
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 22
by Joy Paine
Index words: calibrating for pain 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.
The matron withdrew her finger from Susie's asshole, sniffed it a moment.
"Here, suck this clean," she barked, holding the loathsome thing near
Susie's face.
Susie rebelled for a moment. Then the Crushers . . .
c#
"You see," the matron said to Angie,"some of our clients are
down-to-earth
types that just turn the torture on full blast, and fuck the
consequences.
If the broad is unconscious when they're ready to screw her, they just
stick their pricks into her, and have the time of their lives, whether
she
responds or not."
"Others -- and I would tend to be in that category -- want their victims
to know exactly what's going on, every moment. They figure that they're
paying by the hour, and they want to fill every minute of that hour with
delightful torment. And an important part of the torture is that the girl
should know exactly when she is being raped, and by whom she is being
raped, and how she is being raped." The matron obviously liked the word
"rape", and the way Susie winced when she said it.
The matron had been buckling something to Susie's ankle during her
monologue -- something that looked a little like the cuff that the doctor
uses to measure blood pressure. "A harmless little thing," the matron
pointed out. "It doesn't get in the way at all, and it sends signals to
the control board by radio. Telemetering is the fancy word the engineer
who designed it for us used.
"The cuff monitors blood pressure, heart rate, rate of perspiration,
muscle tension, and a few other things. Sort of like a lie detector.
And we've found that those signals change with pain in a very uniform
pattern. Different from one victim to another, but the same every time
for the same girl. It doesn't matter what the nature of the pain is;
the response is the same for the same total amount of pain. And once we
have a girl's response pattern recorded, we can tell exactly when one
more ounce of pain will drive her over the edge of unconsciousness.
"Now, I could just put the squeeze on these little beauties" (she
caressed
Susie's breasts) "until she passes out, and I'd have all the data I need.
But we've got lots of time -- time for a little fun. Besides, Susie might
learn a little about constructive attitudes if we make the pain last a
little longer.
"So I'm going to play a little game. I'm going to try to outguess the
monitor. I'll start out nice and easy, and slowly increase the pain
until
I think we've almost reached the limit. It won't be hard to guess pretty
nearly the right level, as you can tell a lot just by watching the
victim's face. Then, instead of going directly to the breaking point,
I'll
relax for a moment before building it up to a slightly higher level.
It'll
be great fun to watch the kid's response."
They put a gag over Susie's mouth, to stifle her screams. And then they
set to work. To add to the fun, the matron let Angie use the cattle prod
on Susie's cunt while she tortured the poor girl's tits. And all the
while
she kept up a description of the potentialities of the fiendish device,
as much for Susie's benefit as for Angie's. And for her own, of course --
she loved to talk about inflicting pain.
"As I remarked, the thing that counts is the total amount of pain, not
the nature of the pain. So the client can work out an imaginative
schedule,
shifting from the tits to the cunt, and possibly other parts of the body,
and alternating between whips and needles and clamps and whatever else he
happens to think of. Or combinations thereof. And the meter will warn
him every time he's approaching the danger point, so he can let up on one
of the sources of pain while he bears down on another.
"Or we can even set the damned thing on automatic. We can fasten on the
clamps and electrodes, etcetera, and hitch them up to electrically
operated controls. Then we can put a little program into the controls,
that cycles the pain from one type to another. And one part of the body
to another. And then all we have to do is turn it on and walk away."
"But what fun is there in that?"
"No fun, except when you come back in a couple of hours to see how she's
doing. But it's a great time saver when you want to punish a cunt for a
couple of hours. Or if she's scheduled for a date with a particularly
imaginative rapist, and you want to give her a softening up session, to
persuade her of the wisdom of going along with his kinky ideas."
===================================================
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 23
by Joy Paine
Index words: training t#
NOTE: with one exception, the characters in this story have no
resemblance to any person living or dead. The exception is that
I like to picture myself in the story, from time to time.
For the next eternity, Susie suffered the tortures of the damned. The
matron was an expert, and could judge Susie' capacity for pain very
accurately, and was able to prolong the poor girl's agony to
unbelievable lengths. But finally, mercifully, Susie passed out, and
the matron gleefully entered the appropriate data into the computer.
When Susie regained consciousness, she found herself strapped to a table.
>From a great distance, an alarm bell was ringing -- an alarm which the
matron turned off as soon as it had warned her of Susie's recovery.
"On with the training session!" she gloated.
t#
Taking a long rubber dildo from one of the cabinets, she held it up for
Susie's inspection. "Looks like fun, doesn't it?" she taunted. "But this
one is very, very special. When you squeeze it, it lights up a little
blue
indicator on the control board." She demonstrated. "And now," she pushed
the thing into Susie's cunt, "we're going to watch you squeeze it. If you
keep your eye on the board, you'll see a green light come on now and
then.
When it does, you'll have half a second to squeeze. If you don't make it
in time . . ." Susie screamed, and strained futilely against her bonds,
as
the horrid thing sent an electric shock through her tender tissues.
"But -- but wait!" Susie screamed. "That's not fair! I don't know how to
squeeze it," she wailed.
"Damn!" grunted the matron. "No wonder the boys say that you're a lousy
fuck. Well, I'd suggest that you learn real fast. Just try out all of the
muscles in the area until you find something that works. And just keep
watching the control board. Green means squeeze, red means stop. Just
like driving a car. And any time your response lags more than half a
second, ZOWIE!"
With such a strong motivation, Susie learned quickly, although not before
she had endured several devastating shocks. Finally, she was able to
avoid
all shocks, even squeezing tighter or more lightly as the brightness of
the light indicated. "And now, for the next step . . ."
The matron buckled a broad belt about Susie's waist -- a belt that was
fitted with all sorts of contraptions. She fastened a rod from the belt
to an eye on the dildo. "And here we have the answer to a maiden's
prayer",
she smirked. "A fucking machine." She threw a switch, and sure enough,
the
dildo began probing in and out. Susie felt her body begin to respond to
this normal stimulation, her juices begin to flow.
The matron smiled at her involuntary reaction. "Feels good, eh?" she
taunted. "But don't let it get out of control. If you go into orgasm,
it'll throw all of your squeezing out of rhythm, and you'll be in for
quite a session of those shocks. It happens now and then, but seldom more
than once with the same girl," she smirked.
"You may not have noticed yet," she went on, "but the lights are
synchronized with the thrusts of that pecker that's drilling your cunt.
This is what we call real-time simulation. After you get the feeling of
the rhythm -- now, I think -- we turn off the lights, and you're flying
by the seat of your pants, if you'll pardon the expression -- your
response has to be timed to the feel alone."
Everything went smoothly for a short time, then suddenly Susie screamed
again, as the rhythm changed without warning. The matron and Angie
laughed uproariously. "You've got to keep alert, honey. There's no way
on earth that you can trust a john to keep up a regular rhythm, like a
robot. You've got to be sensitive to his variations, and to adjust your
responses accordingly."
After a while, Susie got the hang of it. She was able to sense even the
most abrupt changes in rhythm, and to adjust her squeezes to match.
And then they put in another dildo -- in her asshole, this time. "The
drill is the same here, honey. With one exception. You'll notice that
this one has a nice snug comfortable fit. But it's going to swell bit by
bit, as the training session goes on. Not fast enough to hurt -- you
probably won't even be aware of it. But by the end of the session, you'll
be wide enough to accommodate any cock that I've ever seen. And I've
seen a lot of them," she added.
===========================================================
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 24
by Joy Paine
Index words: oral o#
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.
There was one more detail to learn: the response to an orgasm. The dildo
left no doubt as to what was going on in the body of her imaginary
rapist,
and Susie soon learned that her own response had to be equally abandoned.
"And now the hard part," the matron said. "Now you're going to learn how
to use both holes at the same time. It'll take a little concentration
until you get the hang of it, but you'll find that a little experience
will
make you a real expert in the art of sandwich fucking."
And it did take a little while -- a very painful while. But, as the
matron
had predicted, Susie finally got the hang of it, and was able to play to
perfection her role as filling in the imaginary "sandwich", even to the
point of simulating an orgasm with one hole without interrupting the even
rhythm of the other.
Angie was fascinated. "Damn!" she enthused. "I wish I could fuck like
that!"
The matron smiled. "We'd be delighted to set up a training session for
you, darling."
Angie shivered. "Not with that pain, thanks. Although it would almost be
worth it."
The matron grinned. "And it would be great fun watching, Angie. I think
you would respond to pain very prettily. But luckily -- luckily for you,
that is -- you wouldn't have to undergo the pain. We can disconnect the
shockers, and let you respond on the basis of the lights alone. You
probably wouldn't learn as fast that way, but the end result would be
just as good.
"But we're wasting time. Susie has reached the point in her training
where
she doesn't have to think about what she's doing. All she has to do now
is
develop those reflexes to the point where they are 100% reliable. And one
way to do that is to give her something else to think about.
"This workout we've given our little cunt has made me rather horny. I
think that you said she has a good tongue?"
o#
They put the Crushers on again, to provide any persuasion that might
be needed. And then they made her French them, and tongue out their
assholes. Both of them. And all the while, those two dildos kept fucking
her down below, and her two holes kept up the proper responses.
When they had finished, the matron looked at her watch. "Two hours
before the first client comes, dearie. Or rather, two hours before he
arrives. It'll be a bit longer before he comes -- how much longer depends
largely on you. And you will be given every incentive to get it over
with as soon as possible, even though you know he'll spend the balance of
his time playing painful little games.
"We usually allow 10 minutes before each customer, and between customers,
for a girl to refresh herself, and to get ready for the next one. But
since you're just beginning, we'll grant you half an hour this one time.
That'll allow you an hour and a half of free time.
"Just about right for a softening up session to get you into the spirit
of things."
=====================================================
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 25
by Joy Paine
Index words: strip s# pins p#
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 that "softening up" session was just what the name implied. Susie
knew that after an hour and a half of mortal (and intimate) pain she'd
be willing to do just about anything that her tormentors demanded. Not
only to escape a repetition, or continuation, of the ordeal, but the
pain itself had a brainwashing effect, destroying her morale to the point
where she could think of practically nothing but the agony.
And then the clean-up period -- the shower, the douche, the enema, the
perfuming and lubrication of her "working parts", as the matron had so
cutely called them. And the costume for her first "client".
To her surprise, they dressed her in a rather conservative blouse and
skirt -- just the kind that she was used to wearing to school. No
underwear, of course, and no stockings. Just a pair of slip-on sandals
on her feet. And she noticed that the blouse and skirt (no jacket) had
special Velcro fasteners, instead of seams, so they could be removed
easily, even if her body was tied up. And then her "client" arrived.
Susie was a bit taken aback when he walked into the room. The
Superintendent of schools! She would never have expected him to be a
customer of a place like this, with his public image of a family man,
and all.
And he knew her, of course. He left no doubt of that fact.
"So, Susie, they tell me that you have been a naughty little girl. Shame
on you, seducing those innocent students of yours," he chided.
That was unfair. "But -- but they raped me," she protested.
He frowned. "Now don't lie about it, Susie dear, and make things worse.
I know the whole story, and I think that you'll agree that you should
be punished for it."
Susie understood. This was to be his little game. The "punishment" would
be his pretext for torturing her. She wondered what excuse he'd use for
the rape. She was damned sure that he would rape her before he was
finished, whether he could make a plausible excuse or not.
"Just what inducement did you use to seduce them?" he went on. "Was your
body attractive enough, or did you have to use some little bribe? Let's
find out, shall we? Suppose you remove that blouse and let me see how
good your bait is."
s#
Susie didn't demur. She was embarrassed at having to bare her breasts
before this man who was her boss, but she had suffered so much
embarrassment lately that she was feeling a bit numb in that department.
And she knew that the alternative was more unbearable pain.
The Superintendent whistled at her figure. "Yes," he said, "I can see
that any red-blooded young man would be hard put to it to resist a pair
of pretties like those. I'm afraid that they will have to be punished,"
he added in mock sadness.
He held out a bottle and a surgical sponge. "Let's disinfect them first,"
he ordered -- "Here -- let's see you swab the nipples off with alcohol.
All around. Make sure that you cover the areolas completely."
Susie obeyed, flinching a little at the cold of the liquid, but giving
a thorough sponging to the pink areas around her nipples. The cold made
her nipples come proudly erect, begging for attention.
"Now for the punishment." He poured some of the alcohol into a little
dish, and then spilled something else into the dish. Several small
objects
that rattled ominously. Susie recognized them right away, and knew what
the "punishment" was going to be.
p#
"Just ordinary map pins," the man pointed out, "with the points ground
needle sharp. You'll be glad of the extra sharpness when you stick them
into those beautiful tits."
Susie's voice caught in her throat. "When -- when I stick them in?" she
stammered. Surely he couldn't be planning to make her torture herself.
"Why yes, my dear. I think that your penance would have much more meaning
if you did it yourself. Don't you? Oh, I'll take care of the pins in your
cunt. After all, I can't expect you to do a good job where you can't see
what you're doing. And I'll take care of the special last ones in your
tits. The longer ones that go straight into the center. But I think it
would be most fitting for you to stick in the ones that circle those
lovely nipples."
He seemed to be running things by the clock. He would delay each time for
what seemed an eternity, to let Susie savor the humiliation and pain of
the pins that were already in place. And then he would indicate, with a
prick from a small needle, where the next pin would go.
As he had hinted, he made her stick them in a neat circle around her
nipples, just at the boundary where the white flesh met the pink. Her
nipples were extremely engorged now, from the irritation and the pain.
Finally the circles were complete. And then the pins in her genitals . .
--
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