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TORTURED TEACHER -- introduction
I thought that this index might be useful. I am also including at the top
of most chapters a list of
INDEX WORDS, which you may use, with the SEARCH function of your WRITE or
NOTEBOOK
program, as a sort of bookmark to what I consider the "good" parts.
Index to TORTURED TEACHER
Chap 1 preview of tortures
2 preview of humiliation
3 overview of torture den
4 anticipation of capture
5 the Boss's advances
6 groundwork for capture
7 the capture
8 whipping, surrender
9 pinch breasts, strip, forced lesbian
10 blow jobs for the camera
11 frustrating lesbianism, female masturbation
12 morning after, no undies
13 back to school, extra date tonight
14 lesbian grope, ready for the whipping
15 nipple irritation ("spiders")
16 whipped (especially breasts), breast clams ("crushers")
17 gang rape
18 night with Angie, the "masked rapist", anal rape
19 life is routine
20 "party girl" prisoner
21 digital examination
22 calibration of tolerance for pain
23 teaching machine for a whore
24 lesbian rape again
25 the first customer -- map pins
26 breast and genital torture; urine cocktail
27 prolonged torture session
28 life in the town; unmasking the Rapist
29 the worm turns
30 wrap-up
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 1 (was Troubled Teacher)
by Joy Paine
index words: tortures 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.
"OK," Gertie cried. "Here's Betty. That makes the whole club, except
Susie. When are you going
to let us in on the big secret?"
The other women murmured their support for Gertie's impatience. "Or do we
have to wait for
Susie, too?" one of them complained.
"No," said Sheila. "Susie is the one girl we won't have to wait for. I
happen to know that she can't
make it today, and I happen to know why. And that 'why' is the reason
that I called you all
together on a day that isn't our regular bridge day." She smiled
mysteriously.
The babble of voices rose again, to be silenced by Sheila's outstretched
hands. "You see," she
went on, "Susie is working today. Susie," she smiled, is a whore."
The voices rose in a crescendo of disbelief. "Not goody-goody Susie" and
"You're kidding!" and
other similar phrases were heard above the general tumult. Once again
Sheila managed to quiet
them.
"Hold on, let me finish. Not only is she a whore, but she's working in an
anything-goes House
that caters not only -- now get this, girls -- not only to men, but also
to women customers. And I
propose that we drop in on her en masse, for a surprise visit."
Again the tumult of uncontrolled discussion and disbelief. Again,Sheila
made herself heard.
"Hold it!" she shouted. "Let's not cackle like a flock of chickens. I'll
be glad to answer -- or at
least to discuss -- any of your questions, but let's have a little order.
Betty, what were you
saying?"
"What do you mean by 'anything goes'"? Betty asked.
t#
"OK, it's a slight exaggeration, but it's the term that was used by her
-- ah -- pimp. No, don't ask
me how I got to know him -- I have a right to some secrets, after all.
But the rules are that we can
do anything at all, as long as it doesn't leave any permanent marks on
her body, or inflict any
lasting injury. Jack -- let's call him that -- assures me that they have
special whips and paddles,
for instance, that give various parts of the body a wonderful rosy glow,
and make the victim
squirm and squeal most prettily, but leave no marks at all that are
visible an hour or so after they
are used.
"And then they have thumbscrews that pinch the nipples, and bigger clamps
that squeeze the
whole boobs, hard enough to be very painful, but not hard enough to
injure the girl. And a
special electric-shock thing -- something like a cattle-prod -- that
plugs right into the pussy,
batteries and all, so that all that is visible is the wire that sticks
out, with a switch on the end of
it."
Sheila noticed that some of the women were starting to drool by now,
while some of them were
unconsciously rubbing their breasts in self-stimulation.
"And of course there are all sorts of things you can do with needles,"
she went on. "Another cute
little item is the dancing slippers. They have electric switches built
into them, connected up so
that any time she keeps either foot on the floor more than a second -- or
whenever both feet
touch the floor at the same time -- they set off that electric-shock
tampon that she's wearing.
And, to keep her mind on business, we can make her wear special clothes
all the time -- like a
bra-and-panty set lined in the strategic areas with dozens of pin points
that give her a little
reminder every time she moves.
"And in between times, she'll lick our pussies, of course."
"But how do they get her to put up with things like that?"
"That's one question I can't answer," Sheila admitted. "Maybe she has
latent masochistic
tendencies, maybe she's being blackmailed. Or maybe she does it strictly
for the money. One
thing for sure, she doesn't come cheap."
"With treatment like that, I'd be surprised if she was able to come at
all," one of the girls
chuckled.
"If we do decide to drop in on her," Sheila went on when the groans had
subsided, "It'll cost us
$50 each. That's a total of $350 from the seven of us, for one
afternoon's work. A pretty good
income for her, but only $50 each for us. Just imagine -- $50 to get our
little Susie to be dummy
all afternoon, while we make one grand slam after another."
"And she goes down on every trick," Gertie giggled.
That broke them up for a while.
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 2
by Joy Paine
index words: humiliation h#
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.
"But wait a minute", one of the ladies protested. "You mentioned the
possibility of blackmail. How
can we make sure that they don't take pictures of us that they can use to
blackmail us afterward?
I just can't imagine anything worse than being forced to work in a place
like that," she shuddered.
"I've thought of that, too," Sheila replied. "Look here."
She picked up a little suitcase from the floor, laid it on the table.
Opening the lid, drew out what
looked like a small bag, made of black silk. Drawing the bag over her
head, she adjusted it so
the eyeholes were in the right place, and tied the drawstrings under her
chin.
"There," she said, her voice a bit muffled by the silk. "I defy the Devil
himself to recognize me
now, especially with my clothes off." A naughty tone crept into her
voice. "Sure, we'll be naked,
of course. We'll feel much more wicked that way. And it'll be more fun
when Susie gives us the
blow job -- or we work on each other, if the spirit moves us. And look,"
she demonstrated, "these
masks have flaps that open up over the mouth, so they won't interfere
with any kissing we want
to do.
"And that's part of the fun, too," she went on. "If we want to make a
little love with one another,
nobody will know for sure who her partner is. And the rest of the girls
won't know who is making
out, of course. And -- most delicious of all -- Susie won't know who is
raping her (I think we can
use that word) while we'll know damned who she is.
"So any pictures that are taken will show only Susie with a bunch of
anonymous naked girls, so
there's no possible way they can be used to blackmail any of us.
h#
"As a matter of fact," she added as an afterthought, "we might like to
take a few pictures
ourselves. Not only as souvenirs, but just think of the kick if we spring
them on Susie some time
during our regular bridge sessions. For
instance," she giggled, "we could have a set of prints made up the size
of our playing cards, and
let the dummy casually lay them out some time when Susie is declarer.
You'd be willing to make
the prints for us in your lab, wouldn't you, Gertie?"
Gertie nodded, caught up in the spirit of the adventure.
"So let's put it to a vote. We don't all have to go, although Jack says
that we'll have to pay a total
of $350, regardless of how many of us do take part. How about it, girls?"
The motion carried unanimously.
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 3
by Joy Paine
Index words: venues of torture v#
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 luxuriated in the hot shower for the short time that the matron
allowed her, wishing that the
feeling of filthiness would wash off along with the semen and the sweat
(both his and hers) and
the little bit of blood from the minor injuries her last "date" had
inflicted. At least the wounds were
in places where no-one but her customers would see them, she consoled
herself. Not even a
lover -- not a normal one, at any rate -- would be likely to give her the
intimate sort of
examination that would reveal those minute scratches and needle pricks.
And she knew, from
bitter
experience, that even that slight evidence would be gone in a few hours
-- or a day at most.
Would to God that her soul would heal, as her body would.
The matron turned off the hot water, making Susie stand under the cold
shower until her whole
body tingled, then let her get out and towel off.
Susie knew the rest of the routine, again from bitter experience. The
enema, the astringent
douche, the vaginal and rectal suppositories, to keep things all nice and
tight and slippery. And
perfumed. And to kill any lingering germs, although the careful screening
of the House's lientele
was usually enough to eliminate any chance of disease.
v#
The madam, who liked to be referred to as the "matron", had told Susie
that there was a special
section of the House, where clients with herpes and other venereal
diseases were permitted, but
the girls that worked in that area were never made available to the
"clean" customers. And Susie
had been warned that she would be a candidate for that section if she
ever let her figure go, or if
she got moody or sullen, or if . . ., or if . . . or if . . . The list
seemed endless. And believe me, she
told herself, I'm going to do whatever it takes -- whatever at all -- to
keep from having to serve in
the "Pit", as the matron archly called it.
Even the Dungeon, where the tortures sometimes got to be really serious,
or the Zoo, where the
girls had to amuse a cheering audience by fucking with animals, were a
less horrible fate than
the Pit.
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 4
by Joy Paine
Index words: plans 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.
As she went through the humiliating ritual of getting ready for her next
customer, Susie thought
back to the way she had been trapped into this life of shame. "What's a
nice girl like you . . .?" as
the saying goes.
She had been a virgin when she married Jim. Susie didn't think that this
was such a big deal --
she had been brought up to think it was the normal order of things.
Freshly graduated from
Teachers' College, and full of ideals about saving the next generation
through education, Susie
had
fallen hard for Jim's whirlwind courtship, and had been delighted to come
to live with him in his
home town.
Live with him after they were married, that is. She just about drove Jim
crazy during those
courting days, holding out until the wedding night.
Marriage did mean compromising a bit on her hopes for saving the world,
though. Jim had
pointed out to her that a wife who worked full time would be less able to
help him advance his
own career, and Susie had grown up with the belief that a wife's duty to
her husband came
before her own ambitions.
Joining the Bridge Club was one of Jim's suggestions. The other members
were all somewhat
older than Susie, and were wives of the community's influential citizens,
who were in a position
to throw business Jim's way. And the level of their bridge playing was
scarcely anything that
Susie couldn't cope with. So she dutifully attended their sessions,
listening to (but not
participating in) their gossip, taking a turn at hosting the meetings,
and hoping that her
participation (which she dutifully tried not to think of as a sacrifice)
was actually doing Jim some
good.
She was too innocent to realize that the other members regarded her with
a mixture of envy and
spite, taking a special pleasure in the rare occasions when she had a bad
run of cards, and
feeling all the more spiteful when she refused to let the bad luck dampen
her optimism.
She would have been very troubled and perplexed if she had known that the
other members'
conversations often dealt with ways in which "that high-nosed bitch could
be taken down a peg".
Unable to follow through with her high ideals about saving the world,
Susie did the next best
thing -- she got a job teaching part time in the local high school. But
she soon found that high
school pupils were not exactly the soft clay that she had expected. The
"kids", who were actually
but a few years younger than she, were for the most part cynical
and worldly-wise, and her exhortations to moral conduct met more often
with snickers than with
acceptance.
The worst of the bunch was a girl whose parents had named her Angela --
perhaps with a fine
sense of irony. The only thing angelic about Angela was her body. She was
really built -- too
well-built according to Susie's standards, and certainly far too
uninhibited in the way she flaunted
her
assets. Susie was embarrassed just to look at Angie's brazen display of
tits and ass, and Angie
was quick to realize this fact -- and to tease Susie all the more, to the
delight of her classmates
who were in the know. (Her male classmates were delighted by the display
itself, of course, and
to Hell what Teacher thought.) And the situation became even more
embarrassing when Susie
discovered that Angela's mother was
Sheila, a member of her own bridge club.
p#
It happened that Angie once heard her mother talking with the other club
members about "taking
Susie down a peg", and heartily endorsed the idea. But Angie was a girl
of action. She knew that
a lot of the kids at school felt the same way about the snooty young
teacher -- and even those
who didn't feel strongly about it would go along with her plan, just for
the sheer hell of it. Shit,
with what she had in mind, she could think of half a dozen guys right off
the bat who would jump
at the chance to take part.
Everybody loves a gangbang.
And Angie didn't plan on being the bangee. Not this time, thank you. She
didn't have any
compunctions about pulling a train now and then, but this was going to be
more than an ordinary
orgy. This was going to be the cat's ass.
Well, not the cat's, exactly. More like Susie's.
TORTURED TEACHER Chapter 5
by Joy Paine
Index words: horny principal 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 two other things were bothering Susie.
One, Jim was spending more and more time at work these days, staying at
the office far into the
evening,and often making out-of-town trips that took him away for days at
a time. She knew that
it was a sign that Jim's business was becoming more successful. He was
even talking about
hiring an assistant -- he said that he now had enough money to pay one,
and almost enough
work to keep him busy. But he was reluctant, he told Susie, to take an
associate until he got rid
of that "almost". It would be bad for morale, he said, to hire someone
that he couldn't keep busy
full time.
And Susie couldn't argue with his logic, even though their sex life was
dwindling to almost
nothing. Even on the nights that he was at home, he was usually too tired
to be much of a lover.
Susie worried that Jim's declining attention to her might possibly have
arisen from the fact that
she had always been straitlaced in her bedroom habits. Jim had tried --
had tried very earnestly -
- to get her to experiment with a few variations, but her Puritanical
upbringing was too strong.
Anything but the missionary position was just sinful, she was sure. She
even felt uncomfortable
when he saw her naked -- she hid in the closet while she undressed, and
wore that heavy
nightgown even while they were making love.
She understood, of course, that accepting his "normal" sexual advances
was a part of her wifely
duties, but she felt awfully uncomfortable about it.
And Jim was very nice about it. She knew that he would prefer for her to
be a bit wanton, but he
never complained when she failed to respond to his invitations to
adventure. But she couldn't
help wondering if her unyielding observance of the "niceties", as she
called them, was as much a
factor in the cooling of his ardor as the job was.
In fairness to Jim, she almost wished that he would have an affair with
some other woman, and
get some of the pent-up frustration out of his system. But she knew that
Jim was too faithful to do
anything like that.
p#
The other thorn in Susie's side was the school Principal. She couldn't
blame him, she supposed,
for being attracted to a sweet young girl like Susie, but somehow his
leering propositions gave
the impression that he was making them simply because she was there --
that he would have
been
equally aggressive toward any reasonably attractive woman that happened
by.
She knew that her repeated refusals were making him all the more eager,
but what could she do,
for Pete's sake? And there was nothing subtle about his approach. Right
out in the open. "How
about coming over to spend the night at my place, now that Hubby is going
out of town for the
weekend?"
he would ask. Somehow, he always seemed to know when Jim was going away.
And it always
seemed that he wanted her to work extra hours on those Fridays when Jim
was going to be out
of town. And there was no "seem" at all about his propositions (in fact,
she thought, they were
most unseemly) -- she could count on them, regular as clockwork.
And lately, it seemed that she was having to spend more and more time
with the Principal.
Mostly talking about Angie, and the other kids who seemed to regard Angie
as a ringleader.
Susie was at a complete loss with Angie -- and Angie knew it, of course.
Kids can sense those
things, as surely as a dog can smell fear. Susie didn't dare to discuss
the problem with Sheila.
She knew that Jim would resent anything she did that might cause ill
feelings in the community.
And she knew that Sheila would hardly accept kindly any suggestion that
her daughter was an ill-mannered, immoral, trouble-making bitch -- which
is really what the truth
boiled down to.
--
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