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Subject: {ASSM} NEW: "TYTC 4 - Teresa's Tale" by the Storymaster [M+~TeenF, nc] 1/1
Date: Sun, 18 Jun 2000 07:10:03 -0400
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The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a
graphically sexual nature and may involve non-consensual sexual acts
between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or
dead is purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only.
If you are under the legal age of consent in your local jurisdiction,
or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
This is Chapter 4 in its entirety. (All 8 parts)
T.Y.T.C. 4.1 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
"What did you say her name is?" Alex asked, looking back over his
shoulder as he hurried down the long corridor. The Chief Handler at
The Youth Training Center was a very busy man.
"Davidson, I think," Richard replied breathlessly as he raced to keep
up with the big man in white coveralls. "We're sending her over this
afternoon. She's one of that squad of cheerleaders we took about two
weeks ago. Great tits," Richard added with a lewd chuckle.
"Uh huh. OK," Alex said, turning the corner and heading off toward
the Induction Wing.
"Man, you're in a big hurry today," Richard said following along.
Richard hoped they were headed in the general direction of the exit.
"Every time I come over here, I get lost," he muttered to himself.
"This place is huge!"
"If you could see my schedule today, you'd know why," Alex said.
"I've got one coming in at eight-thirty and another at ten. That's
two `Double I's' before noon, not to mention exams and fittings."
"Double I" is shop talk for Induction Interview. More on this later.
"It's brutal around here these days, my friend. Seems like a never
ending string of orders to fill. Aren't you guys busy over there
too?" Alex inquired of the big man who followed him.
Richard is an employee of The Facility, a neighboring operation with
similar goals as those of The Center.
"Yeah, we're rockin'. That's for sure," Richard replied
good-naturedly. "But it's different with our program. Our Guests
tend to stay with us a lot longer than yours do. You know, kind of a
reusable resource." Both men shared a chuckle over Richard's joke.
A couple appeared from a side corridor and turned toward them. As
they drew nearer, Alex called out a friendly greeting to his fellow
Associate. "Hi Mel," he said. "How's it going?" The tall blond man
halted in front of Alex and his friend. The Guest who's hand he held,
stopped dutifully beside and slightly behind him.
Mel also wore the special issue white coveralls of a TYTC Handler. He
knew Alex quite well since the two of them had worked together with
several Guests. Alex was also Mel's immediate superior. The other
guy, he'd seen before and knew that he held a rather high ranking
position at The Facility, but Mel didn't know his name for sure.
Mel and Alex shook hands in a friendly but professional manner. Then
turning to Richard, Mel extended his hand. "Mel," he said with a
smile. "I've seen you around here before, haven't I?"
"The name's Richard," the man responded cordially, taking Mel's
offered hand. "And yes, I'm over here all too often these days," he
said jokingly.
"Good to meet you," Mel said. Then he turned and guided his Guest by
the hand to a position directly in front of Richard. "This is Marti,"
Mel said by way of introduction. The Guest stood silently, eyes
downcast, hands at her sides, and naked as the day she was born.
Richard had been around long enough to know what was expected. The
Guest named Marti was a cute girl of perhaps sixteen to seventeen
years of age. She was blond and had a fine sturdy figure. "A good
utilitarian body," Richard noted. She had a sweet face and dark brown
eyes; unusual for a blond. Richard glanced down, noting that her
sparse pubic hair was also of a golden hue.
Mel moved closer to his young charge, holding his hand to the small of
her back in preparation for the standard greeting.
"Hello, Marti," Richard said, and without hesitation, he reached
downward and cupped her womanhood in the palm of his hand. "And how
are you today?" Richard continued politely, squeezing the girl's
resilient flesh.
As anticipated, the blond instinctively tried to pull away from his
touch, but Mel was there with a guiding hand on her back, keeping her
in position. Richard rubbed her slowly, but firmly while they waited
for the correct response. To her credit, the girl hadn't uttered a
sound when he touched her. "She's wonderfully plump," Richard
observed. "But if I were to take her, I'd have to get rid of the
pubic hair," he decided.
At his place of employment, the Guests were shaved then cold lasered
to remove all traces of body hair permanently. But then again, theirs
was a service business more so than TYTC whom he fondly referred to as
"A Purveyor of Fine Females". The removal of body hair was mostly for
sanitation purposes, though in part it was the personal preference of
the founder and president of The Facility that all of his girls be
cleanly shaven.
The young lady continued to stare at the floor. Mel was just about to
drop his hand to her taught little bottom and the device contained
therein when slowly, she raised her face up until her brown eyes at
last gazed into Richard's. She was not expected to respond to his
greeting, only to look at him.
One of several non-negotiable standards at TYTC states that, "A Guest
must maintain direct eye contact with her Handler or his or her
appointed representative any time she is being attended to or touched
in any manner by a Handler or representative."
"She's cute," Richard said, locking eyes with the obviously
uncomfortable young girl. "And how long has Marti been a member of
the TYTC family?" he asked, deliberately referring to the girl in the
third person. Richard let his middle finger slip between her labia
majora while he waited for a reply from one of the Handlers. Although
his intrusion was clearly reflected on the girl's face and by a sudden
intake of breath, she stood perfectly still, allowing him to explore
her intimate flesh at will.
"Three weeks," Mel responded. The pride was unmistakable in his voice
as he watched the once proud Miss Marti Warren submit to the
stranger's touch. He felt her tremble as the girl grappled with her
sense of self-worth. "Just two weeks ago," Mel reflected, "this would
have been an entirely different scene." He'd spent a lot of time with
Marti, and it appeared that his efforts were paying off. Mel slid his
hand from the small of her back around to her right hip and gave his
charge an affectionate little squeeze. She was doing extremely well,
and more importantly, in front of Mel's boss.
In fact, to Mel's never ending joy, Alex unexpectedly said, "Nice
work, Mel. I remember this one at her `Double I'. She was less than
cooperative, as I recall." Alex smiled warmly at his dedicated
Associate.
"Christ, look at the time!" Alex exclaimed, checking his wristwatch.
"Gentlemen, I must be off."
"I'm right behind you, Alex," Richard said, removing his hand from the
blond girl, and holding his soiled middle finger up to her lips.
Obediently she opened her mouth enough for Richard to slip his finger
inside. Mel didn't fail to notice Alex's look of approval as his
young charge went about her cleaning duties. Then abruptly, Richard
plucked his finger from between the girl's lips. "Nice to meet you,
Mel. We'll see you again, Im sure," he said cordially. Without the
slightest acknowledgment of the Guest, Richard turned and followed
Alex toward the Administrative Section of the massive underground
complex.
In a few yards, Alex stopped outside of a heavy wooden door labeled
"CHEMLAB". "This is as far as I go, my friend," he said. "You can
find your way out from here, I trust."
"Yeah, I think so," Richard replied, although his expression reflected
his concern.
Alex laughed at his friend's dilemma then said, "Yeah, I know. It's a
big place. Go left at the end of the hall. The main elevators are on
the right when you round the corner," he directed. "Hit the button
marked `S' for `Surface', and don't forget to check out at the
security office. They'll have to give you the `all clear' before you
can actually exit the complex."
"I know the drill," Richard said good-naturedly. "You take care now,
Alex. I might be back later this afternoon if the boss wants me to
escort the Davidson female, but I won't be able to stay to socialize.
I've got a meeting with our Hunter/Gatherers at 1630." He stuck his
hand out.
"No problem," Alex said, shaking Richard's hand. "Hey, before I
forget. How old is this young lady? I'll need to set up sleeping
arrangements for her right away, I suppose."
"I think Davidson is around eighteen," Richard informed his
counterpart.
"Eighteen!" Alex responded in a somewhat dismayed tone of voice.
"She's getting on, isn't she? Are you certain this has been cleared
with the Headmaster?"
"As far as I know," Richard replied with a shrug. "Hey, these
decisions are made by those higher up the ladder than me."
"I know... I know," Alex conceded. "It just that in eighteen years, a
female can get rather set in her ways. If you know what I mean."
Richard raised his eyebrows and nodded his agreement. "I recall only
one other eighteen year old since I've been here. Richards her name
was, and she was a decided challenge," Alex recalled. "What's the
world coming too? It certainly does seem like liaisons with young
girls are becoming less popular these days. We're admitting older
subjects every day," the Chief Handler reflected with disappointment.
"I hear ya," Richard agreed. "From what I know about the situation,
we've got a regular Client who's got the serious hots for this
particular young lady. He's been visiting her almost every day since
we got her, and now he wants to take her home. I also hear that the
guy's loaded."
Alex listened closely to what Richard was telling him. It was all
potentially valuable information.
"I won't lie to you, man," Richard went on with a sigh. "This one is
a scrapper. We've had her going on three weeks now, and she still has
to be physically restrained to prevent her from doing bodily harm to
the Clients. She almost bit a guy's finger off last week, I heard. I
spent the better part of a day with her, personally a week ago, and
I've never seen a girl put up such a fight." Richard grinned
sheepishly. "She's a problem, alright, but we figure that you guys
are better equipped to handle cases like our Miss Davidson. If
anybody can correct her attitude, it's The Youth Training Center
Team."
The compliment did not go unnoticed. Alex paused for a moment,
scratching his head. "Well," he said at last. "I guess we'll give it
our best, and see what comes of it. Take care, Richard." He turned,
opened the lab door and disappeared inside.
Continued...
The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a
graphically sexual nature and may involve non-consensual sexual acts
between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or
dead is purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only.
If you are under the legal age of consent in your local jurisdiction,
or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
Authors Note: As a rule I prefer not to post multi-part stories, but
this one is getting so very long that unfortunately, I must.
T.Y.T.C. 4.2 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
"Well, here we go again, Alex, my friend," Adam North, Headmaster of
The Youth Training Center said to his Chief Handler. His tone of
voice clearly revealed his growing frustration. "The Facility most
certainly owes us one now." He smiled wryly. "Eighteen years old and
a known troublemaker, you say?"
"Yes sir," Alex answered in a professional tone. "That's the report
I've received, not to mention the talk around the water cooler. All
indications suggest that Miss Davidson will be problematic at the very
least. Anything useful in her dossier?" Alex asked hopefully.
"Nothing remarkable, I'm afraid," North said, flipping the manilla
file folder open on his desk. The first page listed the young lady's
personal data beside a photograph.
Teresa Anne Davidson
DOB: 4/21/82
Hair: Dark Chestnut
Eyes: Green
Height: 5'-6"
Weight: 111 lbs.
Hips: 32"
Waist: 20"
Breasts: 35"
Relative: Timothy Davidson (Father)
Status: Divorced
"Miss Davidson's records indicate that she is currently engaged to be
married to a lawyer, of all things." The two men exchanged
distasteful looks. "A guy by the name of Gregory Whitworth." North
read on in silence for a moment. He'd really only had the time to
give the young lady's file a cursory glimpse before now. That's how
busy The Center was these days. "Now this is interesting," North
said, glancing up at Alex who sat opposite his desk. Alex gave him a
curious look. "It appears that our young lady prefers older men. If
I'm reading this file correctly, and I believe I am, Miss Davidson's
beau is forty-one years of age."
"That might be useful," Alex commented. "Perhaps we should start her
off with a series of very young partners, since it appears our girl
derives at least a portion of her self-image from her association with
more mature role models. The emotional role reversal will help to
keep her off balance for awhile. It could be too that Miss Davidson
has had some past encounters with her divorced father," Alex
speculated.
"Might be worth a try," the Headmaster thoughtfully agreed. "Who is
the youngest Handler currently in our employ, and is he engaged at
this time?"
Alex pulled his Palm Pilot from a breast pocket of his coveralls.
Quickly he scrolled through his list of staff after having first
sorted them by age. "Two hold promise, sir," Alex said after his
brief search. "Scott Case is seventeen years old and has been with us
for three years. He started as a night partner, but quickly proved
himself capable of command. He was assigned his first Guest when he
was only fifteen and a half. His success record is exemplary."
"And the other?" Adam North asked.
"Norman Thurston, age 18, Handler for a year and a half," then
suddenly Alex fell silent. "Hang on," he muttered scribbling with the
stylus on his palm computer. "No, never mind about Thurston. I see I
have him scheduled to assist in the Cafeteria the entire month. Looks
like Case is our man."
"Good. Let's get him in here," North said decisively. "And I'd like
to start her on Thelazine right away. That should knock the edge off
her guarding instincts. I believe that'll be best course of action
for everyone concerned."
"I agree," Alex responded, making a note. Then in an attempt take a
positive stance, he added, "At least now she'll be attended to by
professionals during her stay with us rather than amateurs," Alex
said, referring to the program employed by their neighbor, The
Facility. Neither man wished to deride the neighboring operation. It
served a useful function, and enjoyed good success. Occasionally, as
with the case pending, TYTC was called upon to lend a helping hand.
That's what neighbors are for, after all.
They heard the commotion out in the hall long before the door opened.
When at last it did, the Headmaster, his Chief Handler and a third
young man dressed in the white coveralls of a TYTC Handler looked on
in amazement as a "wild thing" was ushered between two burly Handlers
into the previously quiet office. She kicked and spat and flung her
long chestnut hair. A string of unintelligible curses mixed with a
spray of spittle flew from her mouth as she was literally dragged
across the carpet toward the big desk, behind which Adam North sat
patiently.
Following a subtle nod from his superior, the young man in white rose
from his seat and took charge of the situation. Walking quickly to
the side of the room, Scott returned, rolling ahead of him an
apparatus known as the Acceptance Frame.
Resembling a coat rack on casters, at first glance the Acceptance
Frame was a rather innocuous looking rectangular apparatus about six
feet long and five high. It was constructed of stainless steel tubing
one and one half inches in diameter. Wrist and ankle restraint cuffs
with velcro closures were located at the four corners of the
rectangle. The tubing at the bottom half of the device was filled
with lead shot for weight and stability, and although it was quite
heavy, the apparatus rolled easily on casters at the ends of two
shorter struts set perpendicularly to the lower bar at either end of
the steel frame. The Acceptance Frame was simple yet elegant in
function. With it, an unruly Guest could be immobilized quickly and
efficiently. The device was used quite often these days for Induction
Interviews rather than having to tie up the Center's otherwise very
busy staff of Handlers and Attendants.
"Let's get her framed up, gentlemen," Scott said, calmly ignoring the
girl's shrieking protests. Everyone in the room, with the possible
exception of the irate young Guest, suspected that it was going to be
a long day.
"Let go of me, you sons of bitches!" the dark haired girl screamed at
the top of her lungs as she was pulled toward the waiting device. It
was the first recognizable thing she'd said since she arrived.
The two Handlers , Cliff and Hugh, chosen as escorts for the fiery
tempered teenager were both massively built men and had no difficulty
controlling the one hundred pound young woman. Scott position the
"A-Frame" directly in front of the Headmaster's desk and locked the
casters, then stood aside to observe while the antagonistic teenager
was secured to it. When all was in readiness, Scott turned to the two
staff members who stood awaiting further instructions and said, "Many
thanks, gentlemen. Cliff, if you wouldn't mind standing by for the
interview." The man nodded his consent. "Hugh," Scott went on.
"Thank you again for your kind assistance. You are excused."
It is critical that a young lady learn to recognize authority if she
expects to one day become a fully functional female. For this reason
Scott conducted himself quite formally as was the custom among the
staff of The Youth Training Center when in the presence of a Guest.
"Yes, sir. You're quite welcome," Hugh replied.
It seemed almost comical that a man of Hugh's age and imposing size
would address an obviously much younger man with such deference, but
Hugh knew Scott, and knew that every Handler had to start his career
somewhere. Hugh had been awarded several opportunities in the past to
supervise a "Double I", and was a valued member of the TYTC Team. But
today, young Scott was in charge, and Hugh and every other staff
member would afford him the respect and courtesy that his position of
command deserved.
While Hugh made his exit the young chestnut haired beauty tested her
bonds. The four men who remained in the office waited patiently while
the girl yanked with desperate strength at the restraints around her
wrists, twisting and tugging until her hands were white from lack of
circulation. Ignoring her audience, she grunted and snarled and
cursed under her breath, throwing her body from side to side and to
and fro senselessly against the inertia of the apparatus. The
"A-Frame" had been tested by men far stronger and many times her
weight. The heavy, unyielding steel allowed the girl freedom of
movement to a degree, but not enough for her to tip the frame over and
possibly injure herself. After a full ten minutes of struggling, all
the girl had to show for her efforts were two round, dark spots of
perspiration on her blue linen dress over her breasts and some angry,
red chafe marks on her wrists. Two minutes more passed and she stood
panting, leaning heavily against the top horizontal bar of the frame
where it crossed her sternum just above her breasts. Her head hung
forward limply, her tousled brown hair covering her face. At last,
the young woman appeared to be spent; for the time being in any case.
"Good afternoon, Miss Davidson," Adam North said politely. "And
welcome to The Youth Training Center." The girl did not respond.
Ignoring her impertinence for the moment, North continued in a calm
and even voice. "No doubt, you are wondering why you are here." He
paused. When after a few seconds she made no attempt to acknowledge
his statement, the Headmaster looked in Alex's direction who in turn
nodded to Scott.
"Delegation," Scott reminded himself. "Delegation." Turning to the
big Handler who stood nearby, Scott said, "Cliff, Miss Davidson
apparently requires your assistance."
"Yes, sir," Cliff replied curtly. He stepped forward calmly and took
up a position directly behind the restrained young woman. She did not
move. Without the need for further instructions, the big man placed
one hand on the girl's right shoulder. She didn't look up, but tried
to shrug his hand away. It was then that Cliff grabbed a handful of
thick chestnut hair at the base of her skull and yanked, jerking her
head violently up and back.
"Owww! God, you bastard!" she shrieked. "Let go of me. You're
hurting me!" She tried to free herself, but Cliff held her fast,
forcing her to look straight ahead. After a dispensing a series of
whining curses, she fell silent.
"That's much better," Adam North declared with what appeared to be a
warm smile. "You will learn, Miss Davidson, that you are expected to
look directly at the person with whom you are engaged, be it in
conversation or otherwise. This is one of our non-negotiable
standards, and disobedience will not be tolerated." His expression
remained neutral, divulging nothing of his plans for her.
"Yeah, and you and your cronies can all go to hell!" the feisty girl
spat, glaring defiantly at the man at the desk. "When my fianc finds
out about this... this despicable little rape club you're running,
he'll see to it that all of you monsters spend the rest of your filthy
lives in prison."
The Headmaster gazed up at the woman from his seat behind the big
desk. On his handsome face he wore an expression of amazement. "How
any man in his right mind could possibly want a woman like this is
beyond me," he thought. Looking into her dark green eyes, North saw
only contempt and arrogance. "It's going to be a long day," North
decided.
Although she was very apprehensive about her future, Teresa enjoyed a
brief moment of triumph when the man who was obviously in charge of
this mad house where she'd been held prisoner for weeks now, lowered
his gaze and bowed his head. Somehow Teresa knew she'd escape from
her incarceration, and although she'd been raped repeatedly by these
wicked brutes, she knew she would eventually prevail over them. She'd
made a list of names. She'd memorized faces. Sooner or later she'd
have her day, and when Gregory, her husband to be and a powerful trial
attorney got his legal hands on them, these cowardly cretins would end
up rotting in prison for the rest of time. Unlike the majority of the
other girls on her squad who'd quickly deteriorated into quivering,
whimpering crybabies following their arrival in what she assumed was
just another part of her place of captivity, Teresa had endured.
She'd fought them at every opportunity. She recalled with a welling
sense of omnipotence how she'd bitten one bastard's hand to the bone.
Teresa thought of herself as a true champion. Although she was young
-- "Gregory doesn't think so," she reminded herself - Teresa Davidson
had become the epitome of the modern female. She thought of most men
as "boy toys", believing the majority of males she associated with to
be barbaric and stupid. She, on the other hand, was smart. She was
desirable. She was powerful.
She was wrong...
Staring down at his desk blotter, Adam North rubbed his forehead with
his fingertips. After an audible sigh, and without looking up, he
said softly, "Let her go, Cliff."
"Yes, sir," the big man said, never questioning his boss' decisions.
He released Teresa's hair and stepped back.
Shocked by the unexpected development, but not for long, Teresa leaned
her head back and shook out her shining tresses. Then she leveled a
cold stare at the man behind the desk. Teresa sensed victory. "It
was only a matter of time before this wimp of a man would tell his
goons to let me go," she thought to herself.
Teresa was already planning her next move when the man spoke. It came
more as a sighing lamentation, than a direct order, but his Chief
Handler knew exactly what the Headmaster of The Youth Training Center
had in mind. "Alex.. Alex.. Alex," North began. "What am I to do?"
He looked up at his colleague seated across from him. There was an
almost gleeful twinkle in his grey eyes. "I can't seem to get through
to Miss Davidson. Maybe it's a personality conflict. I just don't
know." He paused for effect. Alex struggled not to burst out
laughing when he turned and saw the expression of pompous arrogance
glowing on the young woman's face. Then he turned back and faced his
employer. "Perhaps you might have more luck with her. Do you think?"
Adam North asked his Chief Handler.
"Well, maybe, sir," Alex said, playing along. "I'll be happy to try
reasoning with Miss Davidson on your behalf, if you wish," he said,
slowly rising from his seat.
"Please," North said with a smile.
Turning to face Teresa, Alex said thoughtfully, "Perhaps if we made
her more comfortable."
"They're going to untie me now. I know they are," Teresa thought
excitedly.
"Cliff," Alex said in a kindly manner. "Would you be so good as to
help Miss Davidson feel more at home with us. Perhaps you could help
her out of that dress she's wearing. She won't be needing it for a
long while."
The change that came over Miss Teresa Davidson was almost laughable.
One minute she was flying high, having just scored a tremendous
victory over her captors and paving the way for her eventual release,
and the next she found herself once again alone and vulnerable, facing
an advancing predator.
Looking warily over her shoulder at Cliff as he stepped closer, Teresa
said bravely, "Now you just hold on, buddy boy." She began to strain
at the bindings around her wrists. "Just stop right there," she
warned.
"Hush, little one," Cliff whispered. He reached under Teresa's right
arm and felt for the seam of the blue linen dress.
"Don't you touch me," Teresa hissed, twisting her body in an attempt
to escape the man's attentions. The first seam ripped cleanly from
her armpit to her waist. "You'll pay for this, bastard!" she screamed
just inches from the man's face. "I've got your name, you... you
creature. My fianc.... husband will fix you when he finds out about
this!"
"Shh...shh...shh..." Cliff whispered mockingly. Then he smiled and
tore open the left side seam of Teresa's dress.
Unlike The Youth Training Center where Guests remain naked at all
times, The Facility issued its Guests unique clothing. The Facility
chose to make its Guests available to the paying public rather than
have them schooled by a trained staff. It was simply a difference in
philosophy. In any case, the director of the neighboring operation
realized that many of his clients preferred to "unwrap" their prizes
before they played with them, so he designed dresses and undergarments
that were easily removed without damaging either the Guest or her
clothing. The special issue blue dresses, braziers and panties were
constructed with unobtrusive velcro seams which could be torn open and
resealed time and time again.
Teresa Davidson wore just such a dress. So in spite of the fact that
she fought like a she-cat, wrenching and twisting her body as much as
the steel frame would allow and all the while shrieking like a
banshee, Cliff was able to peel her like a ripe banana. The man
conducted himself like the true professional he was as he tore away
Teresa's brazier, freeing her magnificent breasts, full and firm and
perfectly shaped. The panties came next. Since Teresa's legs were
spread widely apart and restrained at the ankles, a normal pair of
female underwear would have to have been cut and ruined in order to
remove them. Not so the panties given to her by The Facility. The
narrow seams at each hip tore open easily, allowing Cliff to pull the
small garment from between the animated young woman's legs. There was
a round hole with a stitched hem in the center of the cotton panel
which normally covered Teresa's womanhood. Cliff knew it was there to
allow the passage of the vaginal mount systems that the Guests at The
Facility were displayed upon daily.
Note: For further information on The Facility and its day to day
operation, please refer to any one of the stories in the "Natural
Selection" series.
Continued...
The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a
graphically sexual nature and may involve non-consensual sexual acts
between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or
dead is purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only.
If you are under the legal age of consent in your local jurisdiction,
or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
Authors Note: As a rule I prefer not to post multi-part stories, but
this one is getting so very long that unfortunately, I must.
T.Y.T.C. 4.3 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
As he stood watching the pretty teenager being systematically
stripped, Scott began to feel like his toes were being stepped on.
His boss had for some reason seen fit to intervene in Miss Davidson's
Induction Interview, and that affected the young man's sense of pride.
Sensing his junior Associate's concern, Alex turned to him. Speaking
up in order to make himself heard over the nearby caterwauls, Alex
said, "Don't worry, Scott. We'll be turning her over to you shortly.
I think I know what the Headmaster has in mind." He smiled
mischievously and winked. Alex was as familiar with the principles of
personnel management as he was with the female reproductive anatomy,
and because of his intuitiveness and quick thinking he was able to
appease his young coworker and put him at ease.
Adam North sat calmly admiring the body of the infuriated young woman
as his Handler completed his task. "She really is a scrapper," North
resolved. "I suspect she was quite popular with the clients next
door, properly restrained, of course. And she does have a lovely
figure. Those breasts are as nice as I've seen, and she's too young
to have had enhancements. Ah, the shaved vulva," North reflected when
Cliff at last removed the girl's panties. "Trademark of The Facility.
I suppose some find it attractive. It certainly gives a man a better
idea of what the girl has to offer, but I still prefer the feel of
soft curls against my hand and between my fingers," he mused. "Well,"
he muttered over the din of cursing and screaming. "Time to get to
work."
Teresa had indeed been creating quite a commotion, but Adam North was
able to filter out the racket. He'd conducted so many "Double I's"
during his tenure at TYTC that he'd lost count, and always there was
the shouting and the protests and the threats. Clearing his throat,
North tried to get the young lady's attention. "Miss Davidson," he
said calmly.
"Fuck you! Fuck all of you!" was the piercing response he received.
"Miss Davidson, I must have a word with you if you will please calm
down," he spoke a little louder.
"Calm down? Calm down! How dare you tell me to calm down, you filthy
son of a bitch," Teresa ranted. Then she launched into another
unintelligible tirade.
Adam North faced his Chief Handler, and in an exasperated tone of
voice he asked, "Alex, is there any way we can fit this young woman
early. Even if it's only temporarily, we must do something to silence
her, or I'm afraid we'll be here all night."
North usually had far more patience, but this afternoon he was just
plain tired. It had been an extremely busy month. In addition to his
daily duties such as interviews with Guests and other administrative
chores, Adam was in the process of preparing the Center's third
quarter report. It had been a remarkable year so far, and the stock
holders would be very pleased, but still the reporting process
required an inordinate amount of time, time he didn't really have.
Sensing his boss' growing frustration, Alex replied confidently, "No
problem, sir. I think I can dig up a CAP Device that'll suffice." As
a matter of fact, he had one in the kit on his hip. Alex stepped
forward and squatted down behind the struggling teenager. Placing his
hands on her gyrating hips, the Handler traced the outline of her
pelvis with his finger tips and thumbs. Then without warning Alex
moved his hands back and pulled the girl's shapely buttocks apart,
spreading her open for inspection.
"Get your filthy hands off of me, you pervert," Teresa screamed when
she felt the man open her. She wrenched her hips wildly in an effort
to escaped his grasp.
Ignoring her protests, Alex went on with his inspection. "Reasonably
wide pelvis," Alex remarked from behind Teresa. Her thrashing was no
more than an inconvenience for him. He'd performed the same task so
many times that he could have done it in his sleep. He'd learned that
all one had to do in order to keep up with a struggling female, is to
relax and move with her, rather than try to fight her. "Anal
sphincter is in good shape," Alex noted. "Since The Facility recently
began to phase out their old style vaginal mounting devices in favor
of the newer ankle and knee splint system, the Guests weren't taking
it in the rear end quite so often," he understood. Alex released
Teresa's buttocks, allowing the firm globes of warm flesh to close
together. Then glancing around her right hip, he said to his
employer, "I believe she'll take a size seven, sir, but I'd like to
check her manually first."
"Please proceed," North replied. He gazed at the young woman bound
before him. She'd temporarily tired of her struggling and once again
leaned against the steel frame. Although Teresa was nearly exhausted,
her internal fires still burned. North could see the embers of that
inferno glowing hotly behind her emerald eyes as she boldly returned
his stare. It was that very fire that he and his associates would one
day harness.
Behind her, Alex reached into his kit and withdrew a tube of
lubricant. The girl seemed intent upon having a stare down with his
boss, so Alex took advantage of the opportunity. Quickly, he applied
a small amount of lubricant gel to the index finger of his right hand.
Before the teenager knew what was happening, Alex pulled Teresa's left
buttock aside with his left hand, then in one fluid motion he pushed
his finger deeply into her anal passage until his knuckles pressed
against the firmness of her cheeks.
After spending many days in the care of The Facility, Teresa was no
stranger to anal penetration. None the less, the swiftness with which
Alex entered her was at the same time both startling and of course,
quite humiliating.
Prior to her abduction along with the rest of the members of the
Chelsea Women's College Championship Cheerleading Squad, Teresa
Davidson would never have dreamed of allowing a man to have his way
with her in that manner. The very thought of some guy pushing his
loathsome penis into her tender nether regions made Teresa cringe.
"Goddd, Get your filthy finger out of me, you disgusting animal!"
Teresa groaned. Memories of recent encounters with a horrible, hairy
man named Stan flooded Teresa's mind as the latest in a string of
tormentors examined her delicate interior. Instinctively, her strong
anal muscles clamped down on Alex's finger.
"Excellent anal response," Alex commented as he probed deeply into
Teresa. Ignoring her protests, he pushed and prodded, easily foiling
any attempts on Teresa's part to evade him.
"Ughh...Ohh...Gughh!" Teresa grunted. Then in a much more enthusiastic
manner, she added, "You're all a bunch of fucking perverts!" She
thrashed her shapely hips violently from side to side.
Then, quite unexpectedly, Alex shifted his finger inside. Equally at
home in all of the female orifices, Alex managed to find one of those
special places so sensitive and tender, that even the slightest
pressure applied is enough to elicit instantaneous response. Teresa
immediately threw back her head and howled in pain.
"Let's be quiet for a spell, shall we, Miss Davidson," Alex prompted
from his kneeling position behind the shocked young woman. "A Guest
shall only speak when spoken to," he quoted.
"Fuck you!" Teresa gasped once the piercing pain began to subside.
Alex's response was swift, causing the obstinate teen to cry out and
thrash against her bonds.
"It's quite simple, Miss Davidson," the Chief Handler spoke calmly.
"Cooperate, and we will get along much better." He rotated his finger
slowly while he spoke, exploring the supple walls of Teresa's rectum.
The sensations that his flagrant invasion of her person produced were
thoroughly sickening to the unfortunate teenager. "Disobey and suffer
the consequences," Alex said as he flicked his buried finger tip
across that special place that caused such extraordinary pain.
"Ugghhh," Teresa gasped. This time, her knees buckled, and the
teenager soon found herself hanging by her wrists in the horrible
restraint apparatus. However, for the first time, since she'd been
ushered into the office of the Headmaster of The Youth Training
Center, young Teresa Davidson held her tongue.
Alex took another several minutes to complete his examination, during
which time, Teresa remained silent with the exception of an occasional
soft grunt. The TYTC staff members present didn't fail to notice the
fact that during her anal exam, the stubborn teenager stared intently
at the floor in front of Adam North's desk.
Learning to look a man in the eye while she is being touched against
her will is a difficult concept for a young woman to master. Everyone
in the room that afternoon knew that Teresa, like all of the Guests at
TYTC, would soon be expected to overcome her self-consciousness and
comply with the standards of the Center, but for the moment, her
transgressions were dismissed.
"Definitely a size seven," Alex said as he removed his finger from
Teresa's back side. She breathed an audible sigh of relief.
Clearing his throat, Adam North spoke up in a compelling tone of
voice. "Miss Davidson, if I might have your attention for a moment
please." He waited. When after a few seconds, the head strong young
woman refused to look up at him, North continued. Unbeknownst to
Teresa, his patience was quickly waning. "Miss Davidson, you will
look at me when I speak to you, or you will be punished. You are no
longer in the loving hands of our neighbor, The Facility." That got
her attention. "They have turned you over to us in order to prepare
you for your new life. Here at TYTC, you will find, Miss Davidson,
that we do not brook the sorts of outbursts and general misbehavior
that our more kindly neighbors do. Indeed, you will discover that
defiance and disobedience are dealt with quickly and thoroughly here.
Alex, if you would please," North said.
Teresa had been so engrossed by the Headmaster's ominous words, that
she didn't notice that Alex had remained busy while his superior
lectured her. In fact, while North admonished the young woman, Alex
removed from his kit a specialty device designed by the TYTC
Engineering Department. This one device is said to be the single most
important piece of equipment used by the Center in its on going effort
to develop the very best programs of conditioning and training
designed to adequately alter the wants and needs of any young woman to
the point where she can take her place in polite society as a fully
functional female. This is a lofty goal and monumental
responsibility, and to this day, thanks to the C.A.P. Device and other
such technological innovations, The Youth Training Center enjoys a one
hundred percent success rate.
The original C.A.P. (Continuous Anal Presence) Device was developed a
little over six years ago. The forerunner of the more modern devices,
the original CAP was constructed from a hard acrylic plastic. Shaped
like a small bomb, the early devices had a rounded tip for ease of
insertion then quicky gained girth to provide the bearer with a
maximum sense of presence. From its bulbous mid-section, the
instrument tapered to a narrow neck which is designed to capture the
first anal sphincter, effectively locking the unit in place. The neck
is purposely designed wider to keep the anal opening dilated for ease
of access. The device is worn with the butt end protruding slightly
from between the buttocks, so the CAP remains accessible to the
Guests' Handlers should she require assistance with her concentration.
Practically every young lady who comes to us, regardless of her age,
receives her CAP within her first few hours in residence. At TYTC we
strongly believe that "The way to a girl's soul is through her
rectum." It has been proven time and again that following the
insertion of one of these marvelous utensils, a young woman
immediately gains focus. Her thoughts are inexorably drawn to that
part of her body which is most important to a young lady, her
abdominal interior. Not a moment in her life passes without her being
reminded of her raison d'etre.
The newer devices, like their predecessors, are available in a variety
of sizes to fit the needs of every young lady. They are sized by
length and measured in inches. A size six, for example, is six inches
long. Approximately two years ago, our engineers decided that a
certain amount of flexibility in the design might be desirable.
Although the apparatus must be rigid enough to provide a suitable
amount of pressure against the back of the rectum, it was discovered
through exhaustive testing that if the CAP is able to flex at its
narrowest section, it will move with the bearer, thereby maintaining
maximum penetration and presence no matter the attitude of her anal
passage relative to her spine. The following diagrams illustrate this
principle quite clearly:
The New Flexible Design
Rigid enough for discipline.
During a portion of the initial design phase of the newer flexible
CAPs it was also decided that a blunt tip would be more desirable than
the older pointed end design. The science behind this resolution is
quite simple, really. First of all, there is no need for a tapered
tip, because by nature, the anal sphincter is eminently expandable.
In addition, by maintaining the device's full diameter over a larger
portion of its length, a greater internal mass is assured where it
really counts. Our Handler's quickly discovered, for example, that
even with the instrument flexed at a forty-five degree angle, the
increased barrel diameter transmitted a far greater amount of force to
the bearer's interior when its neck was slapped during disciplinary
proceedings. There is little doubt that the new arrangement is far
superior to the older model, and we are once again indebted to the men
and women in our Research and Design Department for this significant
discovery.
"Hey! What are you...?" Teresa began angrily when she felt the
horrible man part her buttocks with his strong fingers. She jerked
her head around in time to see Alex kneeling behind her, but very
quickly Teresa's attention was diverted to more pressing matters.
"Hugggh...uhhh...uuhhhh...uuuhhhh!" she gasped convulsively. From his
seat at his big desk, Adam North could plainly see the girl's stomach
muscles flex, causing her otherwise rounded tummy to become suddenly
flat and hard. The young woman's legs trembled visibly as the one and
a quarter inch diameter device forced open her anal gateway.
Fortunately for Teresa, she was pre-lubricated from Alex's recent
manual inspection, or the incident would have been far more
uncomfortable for her. Also, because of her experiences with her
previous hosts, the once virtually unbearable and deep-seated ache of
anal penetration was more endurable. None the less, seven inches of
relatively hard plastic probe nearly two inches in diameter was a
quite a load for Teresa. Alex could feel her powerful anal muscles
alternately clutch and relax around the slowly advancing instrument.
As is generally the case, the teenager ceased her struggling at the
onset of the insertion, and remained relatively still while inch after
inch of her first CAP Device disappeared into her. Alex kept a hand
on Teresa's right hip, anyway, to steady her, but for all intents and
purposes, it was unnecessary. True to its design, the CAP Device had
Teresa's undivided attention.
Even the horrid man she'd been with earlier in the week hadn't
infiltrated Teresa quite so thoroughly. His had been a more sadistic,
jabbing attack, rather than the persistent, all consuming sensation of
being dilated and inflated, seemingly to the bursting point. Now as
North looked on approvingly, he saw Teresa's smooth belly bulge
outward as her normally empty spaces were displaced by the rectal
torpedo. Then suddenly she groaned loudly as the blunt end of the
instrument forced aside the smooth, muscled walls of her colon.
"Just relax, my dear," Alex said almost soothingly. It was the first
even remotely kind statement he'd uttered since she'd arrived in this
hideous place. "We're almost there," he murmured. With a slow twist
of his wrist, Alex introduced the final two inches of the hard shaft
into his young charge. He watched Teresa's anal portal close around
the narrower section of the CAP Device, demonstrating excellent reflex
response and muscular resilience.
Then with one final push, Alex sent the instrument home, eliciting a
very pleasant grunt from Teresa. Alex studied his work for a moment,
noting the nearly two inch diameter plug protruding from between the
young lady's shapely buttocks. Placing his hands on her hips, Alex
massaged the girl's supple flesh. He knew from experience that this
would cause her to relax and accept the appliance into herself as an
integral part of her anatomy.
When Alex was satisfied that Teresa's CAP was installed according to
specs, he stood up and turned to Scott, his junior Handler, stating in
a professional manner, "She's all yours now, Scott. It looks like her
sphincter is perfectly seated." Then, without a word, Alex returned
to his seat while the younger man took up a position nearer to his
charge. Teresa looked over her shoulder and glared at the two men.
"Miss Davidson," Adam North spoke up once again. "The device that
Alex has so kindly placed inside of you is called a Continuous Anal
Presence Device, of CAP for short."
Teresa turned to face the wicked man behind the desk. A look of
unveiled contempt graced her pretty face. The discomfort she
initially felt when the monster named Alex pushed the revolting thing
up her butt was slowly diminishing as her anatomy adjusted itself
around the foreign object. As a result, Teresa was able to begin to
concentrate on things other than her immediate interior.
"You will notice once we release you into the general population, that
all of our Guests are equipped with identical devices," North
continued, ignoring the hostile expression on the girl's face. "While
you are here, Miss Davidson, the instrument shall remain inside of you
at all times," the Headmaster instructed the shocked young woman. He
held up his hand, silencing her attempted comment. "I talk; you
listen," young lady," he said sternly. Teresa clapped her mouth shut
almost comically. "As I was saying, you shall bear your CAP Device at
all times. You are not permitted to remove it under any
circumstances." He paused to allow his remarks to sink in. "The only
persons authorized to remove your CAP Device are your assigned
Handler, who for now will be Scott." The young Handler beamed with
pride at this announcement. "And, of course, Alex. Do I make myself
clear, Miss Davidson?" North asked the astounded teenager. He awaited
the obvious question. They all ask it.
"But..." Teresa began meekly.
North made a mental note about her improved demeanor following
insertion. "Yes, Miss Davidson?" he prompted.
"But what if I have to use the... you know?" She gazed downward
self-consciously.
"The what?" the Headmaster asked. He wanted her to ask the question.
"What'll I do when I have to use the... the... the bathroom?" Teresa
asked with great indignity. She felt like a third grader.
"Don't you worry about that, Miss Davidson," North assured her. "You
will soon find that all of your toiletry requirements will be taken
care of for you." He chuckled at the look he got following that
statement. "Just remember," North cautioned. "Never attempt to
remove the instrument yourself for any reason. Only those persons who
have obtained direct written permission from either Scott, Alex or
myself may remove your CAP Device. Do I make myself clear, Miss
Davidson?" North asked calmly.
The obstinate young woman remained silent for several moments, glaring
icily at the man behind the desk from her position of captivity. Many
weaker willed individuals would have given in to the situation long
ago, but not Teresa Davidson. Among friends and acquaintances she was
well known for her determination and tenacity. In spite of the
predicament she was in, Teresa's thought to herself, "Gregory would be
proud of me for resisting these beasts. He'd want me to fight them.
I know he would." Then looking directly into the ice grey eyes of her
captor, Teresa spoke in a low and hostile tone.
"I don't know who you people think you are," she began, her voice
laden with contempt. "But judging by what I've seen, you are all
nothing but a pack of demented kidnappers and rapists. You justify
your perversions by proclaiming allegiance to some noble cause. If
you consider torture and rape noble, then you've achieved your goal.
You and your accomplices are monsters, and if you think that you can
make me cooperate with you; force me to give in to your loathsome
crusade, then you are sadly mistaken."
Adam North sat quietly behind his desk, letting the irrate young woman
have her final say. With a small gesture of his hand, he silenced one
of his staff members who was about to interrupt the girl.
Teresa continued, "You've held me prisoner now for I don't know how
long. You've violated me in every way, and still I defy you." She
glared at North. "I promise you that you and your despicable cronies
will never break me. No matter what you do to me, I'll fight you to
the end, and one day I'll find a way out of this contemptible mad
house. When I do, Mr. North." Teresa smiled mockingly. "Oh, yes. I
remember names, Mr. North," she said arrogantly. "And as soon as I
get out of here, I'm going right to the police. And then I'm going to
my husb..., fianc ." She held her head up proudly. "Gregory will
make you pay for your atrocities. You'll all pay!" She turned her
head and looked away, as if to dismiss her captors.
The room remained silent for a long while. Everyone knew what was
coming, except for Teresa Davidson, of course.
"Thank you for sharing your feelings with us, Miss Davidson," Adam
North began in a calm voice. We appreciate your candor." Surprised
by his seemingly understanding demeanor, Teresa looked in North's
direction. "You've stated your position quite succinctly, however I
feel that your logic is flawed." North smiled when he saw a glimmer
of concern in her eye. "First of all, you continue to mistakenly
assume that the policies and procedures with which you've become
familiar over the past few weeks are somehow affiliated with our
organization. Allow me to set the records straight one last time,
Miss Davidson. Although our neighbor, The Facility, has similar
goals, our methods are radically different. While you were a Guest at
The Facility, you were presented daily for public consumption, were
you not?" North waited as the young woman first blushed hotly then
lowered her gaze. "Look at me, Miss Davidson," the Headmaster
ordered. He was pleased to see that she obeyed. "One small step,"
North mused. "The Facility, Miss Davidson, is a service industry.
Their belief is that by providing the general public with regular
access to what they refer to as `The Elite Female', they will
accomplish two objectives. The first being the renovation and
rejuvenation of the self-images of their clients, by allowing them to
be with young ladies such as yourself. Secondly, and we feel, more
importantly, the Guests at The Facility, who are accustomed to a life
of privilege based solely upon their physical appearance, are slowly
corrected, amended, if you will, to embrace what the founder of the
institution believes are the proper attitudes and behaviors of a well
adjusted female." North paused. He could see that what he said
shocked the head strong young woman deeply. "We too, believe that for
a variety of reasons, today's `modern woman' has become misaligned.
The liberal society in which we live is mostly to blame. Everything
we see in the media places the physical beauty of the female of our
species upon and unreachable pedestal. It seems that males are the
only group that it is politically correct to ridicule these days. If
you don't believe me, just watch television. I'll guarantee that
within minutes you will see programming in which the male character is
depicted as a buffoon, blundering through life until thankfully, the
much smarter female comes to his aid. Because of these sorts of media
influences and others, the woman of today has lost sight of her
rightful place in society. It is the mission of The Facility as well
as our own, to remedy this embarrassing situation. But, although we
share similar goals, our training philosophy and methodology differ
greatly."
"You're out of your mind," Teresa said with unveiled astonishment.
"You're all out of your minds!"
Continued...
The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a
graphically sexual nature and may involve non-consensual sexual acts
between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or
dead is purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only.
If you are under the legal age of consent in your local jurisdiction,
or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
Authors Note: As a rule I prefer not to post multi-part stories, but
this one is getting so very long that unfortunately, I must.
T.Y.T.C. 4.4 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
"Silence, Miss Davidson!" Adam North shouted. He rose from his seat.
"You will not speak unless you are told to speak." His face was red
with anger. It was a rare occurrence indeed for the Headmaster to
lose his temper, but this young woman was particularly obstinate and
disrespectful, and as mentioned earlier, he was very tired. He paused
for a moment to regain his composure, then took his seat. Turning to
Teresa's Handler, the Headmaster said in a controlled voice, "Please
take charge of Miss Davidson, Scott. I do not wish to be interrupted
again until this interview is concluded."
"I understand, sir," Scott responded curtly. He stepped behind Teresa
and stood ready to attend to her should he be required to do so.
"Very well," Adam North said with a patient smile. "Miss Davidson, I
expect for you to listen closely to what I have to say. Do not
interrupt me again or you will be dealt with harshly."
"Go fuck yourself," Teresa replied coldly.
It took only a slight nod from his superior, for Scott needed no
instructions. His hand moved like lightning, striking one decisive
blow to the butt end of Teresa's CAP which protruded from between her
buttocks. The force of his blow was transferred upward and back,
ramming the blunt head of the CAP into the base of Teresa's spine.
All that could be heard from the unfortunate young woman was a rush of
breath as the wind was knocked out of her. The stubborn teenager
couldn't even cry out when her knees suddenly buckled from under her,
leaving her hanging in the Acceptance Frame by her wrists. To Teresa,
the sensation was like being kicked in the stomach from the inside.
She hung from the frame, panting heavily while the four men looked on
unsympathetically. Every young lady received this very same lesson at
one point in her stay at TYTC.
"At The Facility, Miss Davidson, you were dealing with amateurs. Our
staff, on the other hand, consists of highly trained men and women.
There isn't a person in our employ who isn't intimately familiar with
female anatomy, physiology, and psychology. Our research and
development team keeps us supplied with the latest technological
advancements." North continued with his monolog while Teresa
struggled to catch her breath and regain her feet. "We also utilize
some very sophisticated chemical compounds as training aids. One of
these is called Thelazine. Cliff, if you would, please," North said
nodding to the big Handler.
Teresa turned and watched the big man cross the room and retrieve an
odd looking apparatus from a cabinet set into office wall. At the
last minute Teresa recognized the pneumatic vaccination gun when Cliff
pressed it against her right hip. "Hey wait, no.. Dnn.." she started
to protest.
"Snick...." the gun spat, injecting the designer drug into Teresa's
flesh.
North could see the panic rising in her expression as the teenager
jerked her head around and stared at him.
"Cowards!" Teresa hissed, fully expecting to lose consciousness at any
moment. "At least the perverts next door didn't knock their victims
out in order to rape them."
"Silence!" Scott commanded from just behind her left ear.
A few minutes passed while Teresa got her breath back from her second
experience with her CAP Device. And surprisingly she was still awake
when North continued.
"We have no intention of rendering you unconscious, Miss Davidson.
After all, we can't have you sleeping in class." He smiled wryly at
his own witticism. "Thelazine is not that kind of drug. In fact, we
doubt that you will even notice it effects." He was purposefully
vague. He glanced quickly at his wristwatch before going on with his
lecture. "We are running a bit short on time, so let me just say this
to you, Miss Davidson." He paused and stared at the naked young woman
before him. "We have never failed to turn out a satisfactory
product." Her mouth fell open at his choice of words. "That's
correct, Miss Davidson. You are indeed a product. You have been
purchased. You might just as well put aside all thoughts of your past
life and love interests, such as your Mr. Whitworth, and concentrate
on a new beginning. Your new owner and life companion shall remain
anonymous for now, but he has paid for your training, and you will be
delivered to him when I decide that you are ready."
North could see a storm brewing in the difficult girl. It was time
for action, lest they all be forced to endure another of her insolent
temper tantrums. Adam North was a decisive man. Turning to Cliff
who'd been patiently awaiting further instructions, he said, "Cliff,
if you would please attend to Miss Davidson now." Then to her
Handler, Scott he said, "If you agree, we'll see how she does with
Cliff. If you then feel she needs further encouragement this
afternoon, we can bring in a few more volunteers. Might as well use
my office. I don't believe we have any more `Double I's' this
afternoon," North said in a conversational tone of voice. He glanced
at Alex who shook his head in confirmation. "She's already
restrained, after all," North continued with a shrug. "I have a lot
of paper work to do, but I don't think she'll be too much of a
distraction." Then looking at Teresa, Adam North said, "Miss
Davidson, this interview is concluded."
Teresa was about to launch into another tirade when the big man named
Cliff stepped around the end of the Acceptance Frame. "Hey, just a
damn minute, asshole!" she threatened.
"Zippppp," was Cliff's reply as he raised the zipper of his special
issue coveralls. Without a word, he stepped in front of the
restrained teenager. Calmly, Cliff reached into his coveralls.
Overwhelming curiosity drug Teresa's eyes downward as the Handler
fumbled inside his trousers. Then, to her astonishment and horror,
Cliff hauled out a very sizeable example of manhood.
While Teresa looked on with growing apprehension, Cliff prepared
himself. Like all of the highly trained staff at TYTC, Cliff was able
to achieve full erection in a matter of seconds.
"Y...you stay away from me, you monster!" she hissed.
Ignoring her, Cliff grabbed her right shoulder with one big hand,
moved closer still and with his left hand, he laid the head of his
penis against Teresa's tummy. Instinctively, the teenager tried to
pull back from him, but to her dismay, her Handler, Scott had silently
positioned himself very closely behind her in order to block her
retreat. In addition, when Cliff advanced farther, Scott dropped his
hand behind Teresa and took hold of the exposed butt end of her CAP.
Thus, using the device like a handle, the Scott was able to hold the
girl in position by preventing her from moving her hips to either
side.
"Nnnn... You bastards!" Teresa shrieked. Twisting her head quickly to
the left, she tried and almost succeeded in biting Cliff's hand on her
shoulder. As a result of her attempt, Scott took a fistful of her
long, chestnut hair firmly in his free hand. With the violent young
woman so restrained, Cliff made another advance. Pushing the large,
rather blunt head of his penis between Teresa's cleanly shaven labia
majora , he started to hunt for her opening. The now frantic teenager
wrenched her hips backward and was promptly answered with a dull,
thudding pain as the seven inch long CAP device was expertly
maneuvered in her rear end by Scott. In fact, when Cliff at last
centered on Teresa's vaginal portal, he nodded to his partner who then
began to slap the end of the CAP device. As the teenager's hips
reflexively bucked forward in response, she unwittingly thrust herself
onto Cliff's waiting manhood. It was a well rehearsed and well
executed discipline that involved both timing and teamwork, and before
the cantankerous young lady knew what was happening, Cliff was in her,
his penis thrusting aside the convoluted walls of her vaginal passage
as he progressed deeper.
Had Teresa not been preoccupied with the circumstances of the rapid
invasion upon her person, she would have noticed that she was already
beginning to self-lubricate. This was, of course, one of the many
effects of the wonder drug, Thelazine. By gently stimulating the
Bartholin's and Skene's glands, the designer drug encourages the
premature production of vaginal mucus, rendering the female more
easily penetrable sooner without the need for superfluous foreplay.
Here is a brief history of the development of this most useful
compound.
Since the dawn of recorded history mankind has sought after a drug
that would help to speed up the often tedious process of seducing the
female of the species. Thankfully, about a year ago the Center's
Research Department made a breakthrough in the area of female mood
enhancing compounds.
Among the many designer drugs that have emerged lately is the very
popular drug, Rohypnol (flunitrazepam), street-named "roofies,"
"roachies," "rophies," "ruffies," "roofenol," "roche," "La Rocha,"
"rope," and "the forget pill." (Rohypnol is manufactured by the
pharmaceutical company F. Hoffmann-La Roche). Rohypnol, however, like
all of the so called "date rape" drugs, tends to render the subject
unconscious as well as inducing a state of amnesia. It provides the
ideal solution for those who wish to enjoy sex with an unconscious
female.
The Center's scientists, on the other hand, focused their efforts on
developing a drug that would induce a spirit of willingness and
cooperation in a fully conscious subject. Analysis was done on
various derivatives of the drug Viagra, but test subjects tended to
become aggressive; a bit too willing, so to speak. The single biggest
challenge facing our chemists and physiologists was to formulate a
compound that would cause the subject to become more accommodating,
but not to the point where she develops a controlling or predatory
disposition, a distinctly distasteful characteristic in a female.
Consistent with the Center's untarnished record for success, the
dedicated staff of men and women in our Research Department gave us
Thelazine.
Thelazine, is not an aphrodisiac in the sense that it does not affect
the emotional or mental state of the subject. Our scientists decided
that in order to ensure that subjects would be cooperative, and even
submissive, their new compound should affect the sensory nervous
system and endocrine system and leave the subjects' mental state
unaltered. Thelazine influences a young lady's sense of touch,
specifically in those areas of her anatomy which pertain to
reproduction. Using complex processes of inductive stimulation far
too involved to be fully explained in this writing, Thelazine provides
delicate augmentations to the nerve fibers in what are commonly known
as the erogenous zones. These chemical enhancements are virtually
undetectable to the female unless and until these areas of her anatomy
are in turn awakened by outside, or inside as the case may be,
stimuli. At that time, Thelazine gently "encourages" the subject to
"listen" and respond to the natural messages her body sends to her.
Cooperation is achieved through totally instinctive processes inherent
in every female. The truly splendid property of Thelazine is that its
effects are so subtle, in the end the subject believes she is
cooperating of her own free will. Thelazine helps our Guests to make
that crucial transition from victim to participant with far less
difficulty and anguish.
So despite her unwillingness, as the head of Cliff's penis nestled
against her cervix, Teresa experienced stronger than normal stimuli
from the area of her clitoris when the root of his ample shaft crushed
against the highly sensitized organ, ever so subtly nudging her toward
arousal. The delicate tingling sensations and gradually spreading
warmth in her abdomen, in fact went unnoticed by Teresa as still she
sought to combat her Handlers.
Scott, however was fully in control of the situation. With a tight
grip on her thick hair at the scruff of her neck, the young Handler
forced Teresa to face her defiler. She could not turn away, nor would
Scott allow her to look down. Each time she tried, he yanked her head
back, causing her to gasp from the pain.
"Huhuhhgg," she grunted in a most unladylike fashion when Cliff flexed
his powerful thighs, driving himself upward and onward to the point
where Teresa could not remember ever having been so fully involved
with a man before.
"Silence, Miss Davidson!" Scott snapped from just behind her left ear.
"Look at me, Miss Davidson," Cliff ordered, positioning his wicked
face just inches from her own. "You will look at me while I attend to
you," the man quoted the house rules. Cliff then began to rock his
hips from side to side, grinding himself into and against her.
Meanwhile, Scott maintained a tight hold on her CAP, preventing Teresa
from following her lover's movement and thus adding to the sensation
of being "stirred" with a baseball bat. It was when Cliff bent his
knees and withdrew approximately eight inches of himself from Teresa's
supple confines that she began to suspect that her body was seeking to
betray her. Her face and neck felt hot, and although she couldn't
touch them, she knew that her nipples were getting hard. She could
feel the normally satin-like skin of her areolae puckering and drawing
tight. Unwittingly, Teresa subconsciously blamed herself for being
weak. Just another of the wonders of Thelazine. So imperceptible
were its affects, that subjects routinely placed culpability upon
themselves, further eroding their sense of self-worth.
Also, it certainly didn't help that her attacker appeared to be
studying her. Unable to turn her head, Teresa was forced to look
directly at the man while he proceeded to deliver a series of short
thrusts, moving the broad head of his horrible manhood in and out by
just a few inches. Then without warning, and much to Teresa's
chagrin, she felt herself clamp down on him. Desperately she fought
to reverse the reflex reaction, but it was too late she knew when the
man smiled patronizingly. Teresa closed her eyes in utter
humiliation.
"Look at me, Miss Davidson," Cliff demanded. "Do not close your eyes.
Look at me while I attend to you," he instructed. Then he added, "I
can feel your body beginning to participate. Deep down inside you
like what I'm doing, don't you... don't you?"
What the man said so incensed Teresa, that a rush of adrenaline
flooded her system, briefly overpowered the increasing effects of the
Thelazine enough to clear her head a bit. Instantly her rage
returned.
"Don't flatter yourself, you detestable monster!" Teresa said to
Cliff, her voice as frigid as dry ice. I'll never give in to your
perversions. She spat in his face.
His reaction was far less than satisfying, however. The man scarcely
even flinched when Teresa's spittle struck him on the right cheek.
Not a word was spoken by either Handler, in fact, as Cliff casually
wiped his face on the sleeve of his coverall. Then, ceasing his short
strokes, Cliff thrust himself deeply into Teresa, not quickly nor
particularly hard. To the contrary, his entry could best be described
as being more irrevocable and all encompassing, causing his obstinate
charge to throw her head back and gasp as a deep routed shudder passed
through her body. Cliff flexed his powerful legs, pushing upward with
greater force, and Teresa found herself impaled and lifted upon his
manhood, causing the nylon ankle restraints of the Acceptance Frame to
draw tight. It was definitely a new experience for the head-strong
teenager.
Things were not going well for her at all. During the early days and
weeks of her imprisonment, Teresa had fought a commendable fight.
She'd resisted, at every opportunity, the wishes of her captors,
forcing them to use increased caution and additional manpower to
control her. Even though in the end, she'd been forced many times to
endure the depraved and perverse attentions of several disgusting men,
Teresa had struggled with a degree of hostility that was quite
admirable. She'd even managed on one occasion to intimidate a little
weasel of a man into passing her by and moving on to one of the other
Guests on display in the Great Hall of the hideous Facility.
Following the incident where she'd all but bitten off a man's middle
finger, Teresa had forced her abductors to muzzle her. The heavy
leather patch over her otherwise sumptuous mouth had proven to be less
than attractive, however, and had saved Teresa from the clutches of
more than one of the despicable Clients of the Facility, who preyed
upon the defenseless young women.
But Teresa was beginning to believe that the staff of TYTC were a
different breed of men, and her suspicions filled her with uneasiness.
These men were not at all like the exceptionally mundane and ungainly
male monsters she'd been forced to endure until this afternoon. To
the contrary, the few white coverall clad men that Teresa had seen
since her arrival in her new home were not especially bad looking.
Most were large and well developed and conducted themselves with an
air of authority. It was their demeanor, actually, that worried
Teresa the most. Perhaps it was the manner in which they spoke, very
calmly and professionally, or the way they carried themselves, proudly
and with a decided aura of superiority. In any case, the few that
Teresa had personally come in contact with made her feel small and
vulnerable, like a little girl. They didn't respond to her threats as
expected, and her outright attacks were rebuffed like one might brush
aside a puppy who insisted on chewing on your shoelaces. The way the
deviant named Cliff now moved, for example, as he developed a slow,
steady rhythm, was both calculated and controlled. These men were
different. They would not be toyed with. They would not brook
defiance nor misbehavior. When she was able to make herself really
look at Cliff's face, Teresa was left with little doubt that he was in
command, and the gradually developing sentiment that she was in very
deep trouble.
As Cliff thrust harder and deeper, Teresa suddenly cried out, both
from his commanding presence inside, and from the pain which shot down
the insides of her thighs. The strain on her ankles and legs was so
great that she felt like she was being drawn and quartered. In
addition, a dull but pronounced ache spread through Teresa's lower
abdomen and up her spine, and with the cramping soreness came a
peculiar warmth. It was virtually undetectable at present, but as
events progressed, Teresa would become increasing aware of the
amplified signals that her femininity was sending to her beleaguered
mind.
"Silence, young lady!" Scott spoke from behind her.
Teresa was, for the moment too involved to respond, which was probably
just as well. Her thoughts were being drawn inexorably inward to the
ponderous mass which passed unceasingly in and out. Teresa could
actually picture in her mind, the shape of its bulbous head and thick,
heavily veined shaft, so exquisite were the sensations being
transmitted to her psyche by the supercharged walls of her vaginal
passage. Each ingress and egress of this reciprocating flesh engine
was accompanied by alternating periods of internal pressure, then
suction... pressure, then suction until Teresa felt as though she were
being pumped up like a beach ball. In fact, had anyone bothered to
notice, her smooth tummy first bulged outward then flattened and
flexed with each stroke cycle. Internally, Teresa's reproductive
system was starting to awaken, her vaginal muscles responding in
sequence to her lover's motion. Occasionally a small pocket of air
trapped inside of Teresa would manage to push passed the head of the
man's penis, bubble along its shaft through the ever increasing volume
of vaginal fluids, only to vent through her tightly packed opening.
The resulting very audible spurts and pops mixed with the customary
viscous, snapping sounds of vaginal intercourse were almost
intolerably humiliating to Teresa.
In fact, the only occasion upon which Cliff would diverge from his
premeditated course of servicing the young woman would be following
such a discharge. Having mastered in the psychology of non-consensual
intercourse, Cliff knew well that any sign of cooperation on the part
of the female subject, be it emotional or physical, is tremendously
detrimental to her sense of well being, and that any acknowledgment of
those signs would only serve to advance his position of control and
dominance.
This principle is but a small part of the highly enlightened program
with which The Youth Training Center achieves repeated success in the
conditioning of young ladies of all ages and walks of life. It is
based in part the fundamental premiss that, "Given a suitable amount
of sexual impetus by a partner or apparatus, employing the proper
techniques, for an adequate period of time, any female, regardless of
the circumstances of her involvement, will eventually become an active
and willing participant in the association."
Each time the liquid, chattering sounds occurred, emanating from
between the teenager's widely spread legs, Cliff fixed her gaze with
his cold eyes and smiled intuitively as if to say, "You're mine,
little girl. Your body knows it. I know it, and soon you will give
yourself to me, willingly."
To make matters worse, Scott had taken to tapping playfully on the
butt end of Teresa's CAP device in harmony with Cliff's thrusting. He
didn't strike the appliance hard enough to cause pain, but rather his
expert manipulations resulted in bursts of pressure of short duration
being transmitted by the hard rubber torpedo into the most tender
areas of Teresa's bowel. Reflexively the young woman's hips jerked
forward and away from this source of pressure, and in so doing, drove
her rythmically onto her lover's impaling manhood. In this manner,
the stubborn teenager was encouraged to participate in relationship.
Alex looked on for awhile, until he was satisfied that his coworkers
had matters well in hand, then he turned to his superior and said, "If
you won't be needing me any more for the moment, I'll take my leave,
sir."
Adam North glanced up from his paper work and nodded. "Sure, go right
ahead, Alex." Then he looked in the direction of the threesome just a
couple of meters away from his desk. All he could see of the
audacious Miss Davidson at present were her arms and legs protruding
outward from behind Cliff's white clad body.
Handlers never disrobed. Their coveralls were specially designed to
allow them marvelous freedom of access and movement, and by remaining
clothed, the Handler held a perceived position of superiority over
the naked Guest. Just another link in the chain.
Heavy breathing and the occasional soft grunt were the only sounds
that came from the menage a trois for the time being. Less and less
often over the passed half hour had there been any verbal protests
from Miss Davidson. Earlier outbursts had been dealt with in the
customary manner by providing the Guest with sexual distraction until
she could come to grips with the situation. The CAP device worked so
well for this, and Scott was proving himself to be quite adept with
its application. His timing was excellent and his touch subtle, North
noticed.
He glanced at his wristwatch. "I give her about ten minutes," he said
smiling at Alex.
"I'll buy that," his Chief Handler responded. "I think we've made
some significant inroads with Miss Davidson, actually." He gazed
approvingly in the direction of the loving threesome.
From where he sat, Alex could see the young woman's body pressed
between the white uniforms of his coworkers. Scott no longer found it
necessary to restrain her buy her hair and presently rested one hand
on her right shoulder while he used his other to manipulate her CAP in
concert with the thrusting of Cliff's hips. Cliff, Alex noted, now
held Miss Davidson's face up to his using only three fingers placed
gently beneath her chin. He'd increased his tempo slightly, but
maintained the long, fluid strokes of the true professional, rather
than the jerky, unharmonious hammerings of a rank amateur. Always
attentive to details, Cliff positioned his upper body back slightly so
as to allow the girl's magnificent breasts to bounce freely to his
cadence, adding to the Thelazine enhanced sexual stimuli which flooded
her consciousness. Alex could plainly see the sheen of perspiration
on the young woman's flanks. In addition, her neck and shoulders and
chest were flushed a warm rosy pink. He couldn't see her face, but
knew from years of experience the medley of expressions that played
there as Cliff expertly maneuvered her toward her apogee. There was
little doubt in Alex's mind that Miss Davidson was focused inward, her
green eyes fluid and hazy.
"No, sir, it won't be long now," Alex commented. "Do you think one
will be enough for now?" he asked, referring to the induced orgasm
they all hoped would result from their combined efforts.
"We'll see how she does following afterglow," North answered. "It's
getting pretty late, and we'll be pairing her up with a night partner
soon after her exam and fitting in any case. I suppose if she
continues to show signs of defiance, I'll stay late and supervise
another session, but you can take off if you want to," the Headmaster
said conversationally.
The casual observer would probably be astounded by the off-handed
manner in which the two men conversed while just a few feet away a
young woman, restrained at the wrists and ankles, was being forcibly
taken by two men. What the casual observer wouldn't know, however,
and would have no way of knowing, since the Center's security was for
all intents and purposes, bullet proof, is that the Headmaster and his
Chief Handler had both witnessed so many similar encounters that they
were, by now, second nature to them. Just another day at the office,
so to speak.
"OK, then," Alex replied with a smile. "I want to get down to the
Gymnasium before closing time. The Coach has a new apparatus he
wanted to demonstrate. I think he called it `The Aquarium' or some
such thing. You know how the Coach is. He sure loves his toys."
Both men chuckled.
As Alex left the office, he heard from over his shoulder Scott
encouraging his young charge, "Just let yourself go. I'm right here
to help you, Miss Davidson. Relax and concentrate. Focus on Cliff
inside of you. That's right, little one. Center yourself. Our
little girl loves to be loved, doesn't she. Sure she does."
Just before the heavy door closed behind him, Alex caught the opening
whimperings of Miss Teresa Anne Davidson's very first non-consensual,
induced orgasm. During her stay at The Youth Training Center, she
would enjoy many, many more.
Continued...
The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a
graphically sexual nature and may involve non-consensual sexual acts
between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or
dead is purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only.
If you are under the legal age of consent in your local jurisdiction,
or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
Authors Note: As a rule I prefer not to post multi-part stories, but
this one is getting so very long that unfortunately, I must.
T.Y.T.C. 4.5 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
The phenomenon of orgasm was relatively unfamiliar to Teresa to begin
with, since in her old life, she'd considered sex to be more of a
chore than a pleasure. She would later divulge to her instructors and
Handlers that her sexual life with her fianc , Mr. Gregory Whitworth,
had been far from engaging. The man obviously did not know how to
adequately manage the young woman well enough to take advantage of all
she had to offer. Under the patient guidance of men such as Scott and
Alex and the rest of the TYTC staff of Handlers and Associate, Teresa
would be inspired to attain her full potential.
In any case, when the maelstrom of physical and emotional sensations
associated with feminine climax suddenly swept over her, Teresa was
caught completely off guard. Even the lewd remarks of encouragement
uttered by her two lovers went virtually unnoticed by the intoxicated
teenager, so caught up in the moment was she. Hot flashes of light
and sizzling waves of pure ecstacy assailed her psyche. She felt
herself pressed between two torrid walls of, furry maleness in
interminable motion. A violent tremor passed through Teresa, causing
her to gasp audibly.
"Be still, Miss Davidson," the man named Scott murmured from close
behind her right ear. "Guests shall remain silent while being
attended to," he quoted. Teresa barely heard him. Her head fell back
against Scott's chest, and she stared blindly at her lover, Cliff
while he continued to deliver to her. Scott took the opportunity to
slide his hand under Teresa's outstretched right arm and around her
torso. Taking her right breast in his big hand, Scott then began to
kneed the firm and supple flesh of that lovely mammalian globe. It's
nipple was hard and erect, begging to be pinched, and Scott, naturally
obliged repeatedly.
Internally, Teresa Davidson's reproductive anatomy responded as
expected. In spite of her situation, which might be considered by
less enlightened individuals as being, shall we say, "unfortunate",
Teresa's vaginal muscles began to contract sequentially, in essence
milking her lover's steadily thrusting penis. As she gradually
yielded to the effects of the wonder drug, Thelazine, Teresa
experienced a growing emotional sense of completeness. All that was
female about Teresa Davidson "spoke" to her of fullness and harmony
with an urgency that could not be ignored. She was becoming what the
Handlers refer to as "Womb Centered". All of her being turned inward
to focus on the presence in the center of her femininity. Pangs of
discord washed over her each time the all consuming presence withdrew,
leaving her hollow and decidedly lacking. Then upon his return Teresa
silently begged him to stay.
In full accordance with TYTC's time proven premiss regarding a
female's inevitable willingness to participate even under conditions
of perceived duress, Teresa Davidson looked deeply into her lover's
eyes, pleading with him, not to stop, but rather to make her whole.
Her face, once filled with hostility, was flushed with unrestrained
ardor. Her eyes, once emerald lasers bent on cutting the hearts out
of every man present that day in the Headmaster's office, were now
muzzy and unfocused, and although she gazed obediently at her lover,
looking him directly in the eye, Cliff plainly recognized Teresa's
"Inward Stare". That wonderful wide-eyed look of wonder that a young
lady gets when she at last is entirely wrapped around her lover, both
physically and emotionally.
From his seat behind his desk, Adam North looked up from his seemingly
endless pile of paperwork when he heard the young woman moan. He knew
the sound of orgasm when he heard it. With a sense of both
satisfaction and relief he listened as his Associates gently chastised
the impassioned teenager while continuing to administer to her. North
was extremely gratified that Miss Davidson appeared to be responding
to Thelazine very well. Of course, most of the progress with Teresa
was entirely due to the efforts of his trained staff. The Headmaster
was not the only person to recognize the latent passion behind the
Davidson woman's pugnacious exterior. The months of exhaustive
training that each of his Handlers underwent, consistently paid off.
Comprehensive courses in female psychology reveal that the more
aggressive and combative young ladies usually make the best companions
once their energies are channeled through proper conditioning.
However, North knew very well that although Teresa had responded
favorably to her first induced arousal, there would be many difficult
days to follow. He looked on approvingly as the girl laid her head
against her Handler's chest and submitted to Cliff's slow and steady
ravishment.
A moment later the Headmaster watched Cliff flex his muscular thighs,
once again lifting the helpless girl up with his manhood, allowing the
weight of her body to force her down onto him completely. There was
no question in North's mind when the moment of insemination occurred.
An expression of pensive surprise suddenly graced Teresa Davidson's
flushed face, but having been the receptacle for literally quarts of
semen over the past few weeks, that expression quickly changed to one
of recognition then humiliation.
At the Facility where Teresa had spent the last three weeks, Clients
were allowed to inseminate the Guests for their own pleasure and sense
of personal fulfillment. Pregnancies were controlled by rudimentary
but effective birth control measures. The Youth Training Center, on
the other hand, handled these matters in an entirely different way.
At TYTC every detail is considered. Not a single opportunity to make
emotional inroads with the Guests is wasted. Extensive studies have
shown, for example, that the female orgasm can be an extremely
effective and powerful tool when managed correctly. By either
allowing or withholding orgasm, a young lady's emotional state can be
profoundly affected.
Take Teresa's Induction Interview for example. Here, orgasm is
permitted after being induced in an "adversarial" setting. Unaware of
the influences of the drug Thelazine, Teresa believes that she has
been overpowered and subjugated, and that due to her personal weakness
of character, she has given in to her assailants. Her own body has
betrayed her. She has failed. The resulting erosion of her
self-esteem is of inestimable value. In other situations where a
young lady's Handler recognizes her desire for orgasm, climax might be
delayed or even denied in an effort to foster an attitude of longing
and dependancy.
It has long been known by the founders of The Youth Training Center
that non-consensual insemination can produce deeply seated emotional
contradictions within a female, placing her maternal instincts and
natural desires to procreate in direct conflict with the circumstances
of her insemination. Again, any chance to chip away at her self-image
and her belief system is considered to be highly beneficial.
Medical history has documented time and again that pregnancy, more
than any other single occurrence in her life can generate the most
significant and profound emotional and physical changes in a young
woman. Due, in part, to outdated prejudices, and regrettably, a lack
of vision, this valuable educational tool has been more or less
ignored. Recently, however, our staff physiologists and psychologists
have begun to dabble in the area of "Managed Pregnancy". Less than a
year ago at both TYTC and The Facility, contraception regimens were
strictly adhered to, but no longer.
By allowing its Guests to be impregnated on a case by case basis,
several bold new avenues for the enlightenment and education of our
family of young ladies have been opened.
The first benefit is obvious. Contrary to popular belief, a female
instinctively knows when she's been fertilized. Often that belief
begins only as an intuition, a sneaking suspicion that her deepest
sanctuary has been invaded. It has been said that this instinctive
realization can even be seen in her eyes at the exact time of
fertilization. Then, as the days pass, she gradually becomes more
certain, and with that growing certainty, comes the knowledge that she
has been taken utterly by a mate not of her choosing. The knowledge
that he has left a part of himself inside of her which in turn has
joined with the very fiber of her being on a cellular level causes a
devastating sense of personal violation and consumption. The
resulting loss of "self" to circumstances beyond her control is quite
effective and long lasting.
If the pregnancy is allowed to continue, a host of well documented
changes in her emotions begin to surface. The hormonal influences
upon her mental capacities alone are enough to provoke considerable
confusion and uncertainty. Her natural nesting instincts tend to
steer her toward one mate. Thus, although she realizes that she is
surrounded by men who previously were her foes, the very roots of her
femininity subtly encourages her toward developing loyalties toward
her partners, and then eventually toward one mate. The urge for
monogamy is a powerful urge in the pregnant female, and one that we
now use to our advantage. This very instinct can be molded into what
we refer to as Handler Loyalty. It is then a relatively simple matter
later on to transfer this loyalty to her new life companion. Although
the program of Managed Pregnancy is still in its infancy, it is being
employed more and more often in the Center's never ending search for
excellence. At the time of this writing, Guest pregnancies during
this testing phase are allowed to run an average of two months before
being aborted. To date, test subjects have responded better than
expected.
North flipped a page in Teresa's file and located data on her
menstrual cycle which was graciously provided by the Facility upon her
transfer. While his men finished up with her, the TYTC Headmaster
noted that the teenager was entering her "ripe" phase. He jotted a
note in the "Training Procedures" section, instructing Teresa's future
Handlers and Attendants that should she become pregnant, the pregnancy
be allowed to develop for an unspecified period of time.
Teresa's belief that these men were merely a group of unruly sadists
and rapists was pure unfounded conjecture. In reality, there wasn't a
day that went by or a minute in any day for the Guests of The Youth
Training Center that wasn't carefully planned and executed. Each
seeming act of heartlessness or brutality had an express purpose.
Nothing was random. Nothing left to chance. The Center thought of
everything.
"Be silent, Miss Davidson," Scott was forced to remind the impassioned
teenager following a second audible moan. Her first had been
forgiven. Scott knew, not only from having worked with Cliff several
times in the past that he'd just made a deposit with his young charge,
but also because her entire body had abruptly stiffened when she
accepted his offering. His fingertips resting gently on the butt of
Teresa's CAP at the time of insemination, Scott felt the sympathetic
clutching of her anal sphincter on the hard rubber plug which he knew
was concurrent with the spontaneous milking action of her vaginal
muscles.
Still caught up in the mindlessness of Womb Centering, Teresa barely
heard Scott's prompting. She felt his warm maleness against her skin
where he pressed against her. She felt his big hand rhythmically
kneading her breast. She felt the hard rubber appliance slowly
rotating in her rear end. But mostly, Teresa Davidson focused on the
all-consuming displacement of her abdominal spaces. The pressure and
depth of Cliff's penetration was mind numbing as once more she found
herself lifted upward upon his fleshy engine. Then just as the ankle
restraints at the lower corners of the Acceptance Frame pulled tight,
the fiery eruption struck. The first pulse felt like it would drive
Teresa's spine through the top of her head, opening her eyes and
causing her to take note. As the seeding continued, Teresa stiffened
noticeably.
"Mmmmmm...mmm," the teenager moaned pitifully as the mounting pressure
in her tummy forced her lover's viscus offering into every nook and
cranny. As mentioned earlier, Teresa had been on the receiving end of
a goodly quantity of semen during the passed three weeks, so the
sensation of male ejaculation was not an unfamiliar one for her. But
this was different somehow. It felt more final. Although Teresa was
much to wrapped up in the moment for truly cognizant thought,
instinctively she knew that she was being fertilized by the big
Handler.
"Easy now, little one," Cliff coaxed in an effort to relax his young
partner. He actually felt back pressure as his third salvo entered
the tight, clutching confines of his young lover.
The first beautiful swimmer that lead the assault upon the mucous
block which guarded the tiny opening in the center of Teresa's cervix
was quickly rebuffed and subsequently perished in the attempt, but
right behind him were millions more. Her gates fell quickly, and the
troops swarmed into the innermost chamber of Teresa Davidson. Deep in
this sanctum lay one microscopic sample of Teresa's DNA in the form of
a recently ovulated egg. In seconds the assault was on. Thousands
fell, before one tiny soldier succeeded in penetrating the shield
membrane of the ovum. It was at that exact instance when Teresa and
her Handler truly became one, and Cliff and his superior, Adam North
witnessed her realization of conception plainly etched in her stunned
facial expression.
Cliff dutifully held himself deep inside of the teenager until he felt
that she was finished with her milking processes. Then he removed his
finger tips from beneath Teresa's chin, and unceremoniously exited
her. Teresa was much to dazed from the whole experience to even think
about what might happen next. So she simply allowed herself to drift
in the warm pool of afterglow, totally unaware of the biological
changes that her body was already going through. Teresa Anne Davidson
was one very pregnant young lady.
As though nothing at all out of the ordinary had occurred, Cliff
packed himself away and zipped up. Giving the dazed young woman no
further thought, Cliff turned to Scott and asked, "Will that be all,
sir?"
"Yes, that's all for now, Cliff. Good work," Scott said.
"Praise in public, scold in private," Alex had once instructed him,
reciting one of the axioms of correct personnel management. One day
Scott would be a leader in the organization.
"But please stand by, if you don't mind. After I suction her, I'll
more than likely require assistance in transporting her to her exam."
"No problem," Cliff replied good-naturedly.
From his many hours of OB/GYN training, Scott knew that if the
teenager were going to conceive, she would have done so by now. After
releasing his controlling hold on her CAP, Scott stepped around the
A-Frame and faced the girl. Her face was still flushed, but her eyes
were clearing. Her breathing had slowed considerably, and she once
again stood on her own two feet, spread wide though they were.
"You've done quite well, Miss Davidson," Scott commented idly as he
reached into the zippered kit on his belt. "After the way you started
out this afternoon, I thought we might never get through to you." He
smiled at the chestnut haired beauty.
Teresa's sense of outrage was quickly returning. She glared defiantly
up at the Handler from her vulnerable position. In her womb, the
single cell became two.
While the cellular mitosis continued inside of Teresa, her Handler
knelt down in front of her and removed an odd looking small clear
canister from his belt kit. Next he took out a short length of clear
vinyl tubing which he attached to a fitting on the top of the
canister. While Teresa looked on with growing apprehension, Scott
then fastened what appeared to be some kind of primer bulb to a second
fitting on the canister.
"There we are," Scott muttered to himself as was his habit. At the
last minute, Teresa noticed that the tubing he'd affixed to the
canister had a rounded tip at its bitter end. This rounded end, Scott
now pushed up into Teresa's vagina with no hesitation what so ever.
"Now we'll just retrieve that part of Cliff's deposit that you didn't
use, young lady," Scott commented casually as he began to work the
squeeze bulb, pumping it rapidly in his left hand. With his right,
the Handler guided the tip of the tubing he'd placed into Teresa here
and there inside of her. Accompanied by what some might consider to
be sickening sounds of liquid suction, a milky viscus fluid began to
travel down the tubing and bubble into the clear canister. When the
sound of his suctioning changed to one similar to that of a child
reaching the end of his milkshake, Scott muttered, "Let's try up
here," then pushed the tubing deeper into Teresa's vagina. He knew
he'd hit pay dirt when the sound abruptly deepened and he felt
resistance on the primer bulb. Glancing quickly downward, Scott
watched a steady stream of the milky mixture of semen and vaginal
mucous spurt into the reservoir canister. "That's better," he said
with a smile. "My, my, Cliff really filled you up, young lady."
Teresa thought she would throw up as the man callously moved the
repulsive device around inside of her. "What on Earth could he be
doing?" she wondered disgustedly.
When once more, the sound of a straw at the bottom of an empty
milkshake was heard in the Headmaster's office, Scott removed the
tubing from Teresa's vaginal passage and stood up holding the gruesome
portable suctioning device. For effect, Scott held the canister up in
front of Teresa and swirled its syrupy contents before her eyes.
"Thank goodness we didn't waste any," he said happily. "Now don't you
worry," he continued smiling at Teresa's expression of disgust.
"We'll save this for you for later, my dear." Teresa mouth fell open
in shock. She could think of nothing to say.
Teresa's Induction Interview was over at last. The Headmaster sat
quietly behind his big desk and observed while the young teenager was
freed from the bondage of the A-Frame. Although a scuffle was
certainly possible, neither Scott nor Cliff expected one. Even a
fiery tempered young woman like Teresa had her limits, the men knew.
She might attempt to resist, but undoubtedly she was fatigued and
could be easily overpowered if necessary. As it turned out, the
teenager could barely stand without help from Cliff. Then once Scott
decided that she could walk, Teresa was led from the Headmaster's
office without further comment.
Continued...
The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a
graphically sexual nature and may involve non-consensual sexual acts
between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or
dead is purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only.
If you are under the legal age of consent in your local jurisdiction,
or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
Authors Note: As a rule I prefer not to post multi-part stories, but
this one is getting so very long that unfortunately, I must.
T.Y.T.C. 4.6 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
Her first few steps were rather painful actually as the seven inch
anal insert that the Center had provided her with jabbed painfully at
Teresa's insides. One could always tell a new Guest by her waddling
gate. After a few days, however, she would become used to it and
adjust herself around its continuous presence. But always it would be
there for her, drawing Teresa's attention away from those things that
are unimportant and helping her to focus.
Padding along behind her Handler, Teresa felt extremely exposed in her
present state of nakedness. "At least in that last hideous place
they'd dressed her," she thought to herself. "Let go of me," Teresa
snapped obstinately when after walking a few yards, the fact that she
was being led by the hand like a small child became abhorrent to her.
Without a word, Scott transferred his grip to her wrist and pulled the
upset teenager along behind him. "I said, let go!" Teresa shouted and
began to struggle with Scott.
"How quickly they forget," Scott muttered to himself. He didn't have
to look back for he knew what was about to take place. As he tugged
his stubborn charge along against her will, Cliff came up from behind.
Scott heard the telltale grunt characteristic of disciplinary CAP
management, and knew that Cliff had offered Teresa some encouragement.
She'd leaned over and nearly succeeded in biting Scott's hand when the
blow was struck. As a result, Teresa pitched forward and came very
close to falling when the vile instrument in her rear end was struck
by the second Handler. By design, the force of his blow was direction
to the base of Teresa's spine, knocking the wind out of the
disobedient teenager, and causing her knees to buckle. Cliff was
quick to grab her under her armpit thus preventing an embarrassing
spill. Scott, refusing to recognize the young woman's distress,
continued to tug on her wrist, forcing her to stumble behind him down
the corridor. Hearing her grunt a second time as a result of some
additional inspiration, Scott at last looked back at the chestnut
haired beauty he had in tow.
"Kindly keep up, Miss Davidson. We have a busy schedule this
evening." The look of astonishment the girl gave him was almost
comical. "They're all the same for the first week or so," Scott
mused. "Head strong, contentious, determined to resist, still certain
that somehow they will be delivered from their fate."
Since the Center opened nearly fourteen years ago, not a single Guest
has ever left the fold before her time. When at last, a young lady is
deemed ready to graduate, she is not the same young lady who once
stood before the Headmaster's desk at her "Double I". In addition,
the placement program at TYTC makes absolutely certain that the new
life she will be assuming is far removed from her past existence. No
details are left unattended to. All the "I's" are dotted and the
"T's" crossed. The security system at The Youth Training Center is
altogether failsafe.
Generally after the first week, Guests begin to become somewhat less
insubordinate. By the time they enter their second week, they have
usually come to grips with the fact that they will not be rescued or
released. Also, the daily training regimens they engage in tend to
keep them quite well occupied. After two weeks, the Center's
persistent program of conditioning using sexual impetus begins to
erode their sense of self. Then once the trappings of her old belief
system are cast aside, the work begins to create a new young woman
with fresh new ideals. Arrogance is replaced by willingness, vanity
by humility, and impertinence by obedience. Where once there was
discord, harmony reigns.
Teresa's life was far from harmonious at the moment. She'd ceased her
struggling following Cliff's second swat of her CAP Device. Now she
merely muttered curses under her breath while she was lead down a
labyrinth of corridors toward an uncertain future.
The Youth Training Center was indeed immense. Constructed in utter
secrecy, the entire sprawling structure with its offices,
laboratories, dormitories, classrooms and other training facilities
was built three stories underground. Only one well concealed and
extremely well guarded portal allowed entrance and egress of both
pedestrian and vehicular traffic to the complex. Additionally, Adam
North alone knew of its precise location. Staff members as well as
Guests and the occasional visiting Client are ferried in by unmarked
shuttle vans. The van drivers are permitted to make one trip only for
which they are paid an enormous amount of money. Then they are given
a drug which in effect eradicates short term memory. The average duty
shift for Handlers and other Associates is six months. While in
residence, all of their needs are met and exceeded. The quality of
work life of its employees is extremely important to the Center, and
because of this, the system has worked flawlessly for over fourteen
years.
The soreness resulting from her unfamiliarity with her anal appliance
was becoming intolerable when at last Teresa was brought to a halt
before a recessed door marked "Fitting Room". Scott entered his pass
code on a keypad on the wall and the steel door hissed open.
Turning to Cliff he said, "Give me a hand getting her secured, and
then you may carry on." Cliff nodded his understanding, then placed a
hand on Teresa's back between her shoulder blades. With Scott leading
her by the hand and Cliff applying gentle but firm pressure from
behind, Teresa was ushered into the white tiled room. Momentarily
blinded by the bright lights glaring off the tile walls and floor,
Teresa hesitated in the entryway as the door hissed closed behind her.
"Come along now, Miss Davidson," Scott said as the two men pulled her
into the room.
As her eyes adjusted to the gleam of white tile and stainless steel,
Teresa was afforded a brief look around while she stumbled forward.
"The room looked a lot like an operating room in a hospital," she
thought as she eyed the grey surfaced lab benches and the many drawers
and cabinets that lined three of the room's four walls.
"Come now, Miss Davidson. Let's not dawdle," she heard the man named
Scott say. Looking at, then past the white coverall clad man, Teresa
saw what the two Handlers were guiding her toward.
At first glance, the apparatus looked like a form fitting fiberglass
chair with a high back and head rest. As she was pulled closer,
Teresa's anxiety level increased when she noticed the restraint bands
on the arms of the strange chair. What she really didn't like seeing
were the two gynecological style stainless steel stirrups, complete
with ankle restraints attached to the contrivance. What Teresa was
looking at, of course, is called "The Cooperation Seat".
The fiberglass, anatomically shaped seat standsd at approximately the
same height as a barber's chair and has controls that allow it to be
raised or lowered to any height. The entire chair can also be tilted,
allowing its occupant to be seated upright or leaned back into a
recumbent position. The real distinguishing feature of the apparatus
is the seat itself. The seat bottom is split into two sections such
that the occupant's thighs are cradled and supported while leaving her
buttocks free and accessible. Attached to the seat are two leg
extensions which end in stainless steel stirrups. The lower
extremity extensions are articulated such that they can be adjusted in
virtually any direction, side to side or up and down. On the sides of
the chair are arm rests which, like the leg extensions, are also
adjustable. Additionally, like the leg rests, they are equipped with
nylon restraint straps which fasten with velcro closures. Just above
the top of the seat back a padded restraint band is attached to a head
rest at neck level. Once seated in the "Cooperation Seat", and
restrained at the throat, arms and legs, a Guest is completely
immobilized.
Teresa wasn't given the opportunity to refuse or resist. Without a
word, the two Handlers each took an arm, and Teresa was lifted off her
feet and plopped summarily down into the specialty chair. With a
deftness and efficiency that only comes from practice, the dumbfounded
teenager was secured to the Cooperation Seat, and then, as promised,
Cliff was excused.
Scott stood gazing down at his young charge for several moments with
an approving look on his face. No one spoke. It wasn't until she was
securely strapped to the evil piece of furniture that Teresa got a
really good look at her tormentor. For the first time, Teresa
realized how young he was.
At last, breaking the uncomfortable silence, Scott said, "Well, if you
have no objections, Miss Davidson, we'll get started." Teresa opened
her mouth to say something, but Scott cut her off. "Silence, Miss
Davidson," he instructed. Then he quoted one of those damnable rules,
"A Guest shall only speak when told to do so." Gratifyingly, it
worked. The stubborn young woman shut her mouth and sat glaring at
him coldly.
Teresa was seated in a more or less upright position for the time
being. Her legs were bent at the knee and spread only slightly, her
ankles perhaps eighteen inches apart. She was somewhat reclined as
one might sit in a comfortable lounger. The ankle and wrist
restraints were fastened securely while the padded band about her neck
was left loose enough that she could turn her head freely. She looked
quite cozy, actually.
Picking up a metallic clipboard from a lab table beside her seat,
Scott said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, "We shall begin your
examination, Miss Davidson, with several questions. I expect for you
to answer them promptly and truthfully." Teresa refused to look at
him, and Scott allowed her transgression to slide for the moment in
favor of getting started. "According to our records, Miss Davidson,"
Scott began. "You are eighteen years of age. Your date of birth is
April 21, 1982." He paused and looked up at the young girl. No
response. Continuing, "You are five feet, six inches tall and weigh
one hundred eleven pounds. Brown hair, green eyes. Any other
distinguishing marks, Miss Davidson? Moles or birthmarks?" When
again she refused to answer, Scott muttered, "None noted." He
scribbled on his pad. "Your exterior dimension are currently Hips:
32", Waist: 20", Breasts: 35". Are we OK so far?" He waited. "At
some point, Miss Davidson, you will have to answer my questions. Your
repeated impertinence has been duly noted in your permanent records,
and I suggest that if you do not wish to suffer the consequences, you
should reconsider your position and cooperate." He glared at the
recalcitrant young woman. "Look at me when I address you, Miss
Davidson," Scott ordered. His patience was rapidly waning. Reaching
out, he took her chin in his hand and raised her face to his. Teresa
naturally tried to resist, but Scott, although young, was very strong
and easily overpowered her. "If you prefer, I can call in a volunteer
or two to assist you with the decision making process," he added
ominously. At last Teresa looked at him. Her emerald eyes were clear
and filled with defiance and willfulness. But as she stared into the
cold dark eyes of the young Handler, her confidence suddenly flagged,
and the obstinate young woman averted her gaze.
Having won the latest battle of wills, Scott released Teresa and
continued. His questions were innocuous and non-invasive. "Are you
experiencing any health problems, Miss Davidson, or are you under a
doctor's care at the present time?"
Glancing up, he was gratified to see Teresa shake her head, "No".
Scott paid very close attention to Teresa's body language during this
interview portion of the examination. The girl's shoulders had
drooped noticeably following his first question. "Are you currently
taking any prescribed medications?"
"No," Teresa replied softly.
With a nod in her direction Scott continued, "How about allergies,
Miss Davidson? Are you allergic to any prescription drugs like
penicillin, for example?"
Teresa lowered her gaze then shook her head.
"Thank you, Miss Davidson. Your cooperation is appreciated." He
smiled almost warmly. "Do you drink alcohol or smoke cigarettes?"
That question seemed to strike a cord with Teresa. Perhaps there was
some alcohol abuse in her past. "No way!" she responded adamantly.
"I'm not stupid, you know!"
"Very well, then," Scott continued calmly. He made a note in her
file. "Did father or estranged mother have a drinking problem?" He
would look into this possibility. It could be useful. "Have you used
any recreational drugs in the last six months, marijuana or cocaine,
perhaps?"
Teresa looked away sheepishly. She did not answer.
"Miss Davidson, answer the question, please," Scott prompted after a
suitable pause. "Do you use drugs other than prescription drugs?" He
waited. When no answer was forthcoming, Scott again took the young
woman by her chin and forced her to look at him. "You were doing so
well, Miss Davidson. Please don't disappoint me. We will find out,
you know, either through outside sources or drug testing, so you might
just as well cooperate." Staring into the troubled green eyes of his
young charge, Scott could see `the wheels turning' as Teresa
considered her options.
At last, in a tiny guilt ridden voice the teenager whispered, "I
smoked some pot with my brother this summer."
"I beg your pardon, Miss Davidson," Scott responded. He'd heard what
she said but wanted her to repeat her admission. He jotted another
note in her file. "Brother...Drugs?"
Teresa stared in disbelief into the young man's dark eyes. "Are you
deaf?" she asked incredulously. "I said that I smoked some pot with
my brother. What's it to you anyway?"
In a very stern tone of voice, Scott retorted, "It is not your place
to question our motives, Miss Davidson. Simply answer the questions.
Any other drug use?" he asked flatly. "Very well, I'll consider your
silence to mean "No"," Scott said after a moment. He released his
grip on her chin, and she looked away. "What about birth control
pills, Miss Davidson?" It was his first somewhat personal question.
Surprisingly, she answered rather promptly. "No," Teresa replied
flatly. Then she added under her breath, "Not that it's any of your
business."
Again Scott was forced to correct her. "To the contrary, Miss
Davidson. Everything about you is our business." He let his
statement sink in for a moment, then went on. "Let's discuss your
gynecological history."
Teresa gazed up at him in utter astonishment. "This is unbelievable!"
she thought.
"At what age did you begin menstruating and are your periods usually
light or heavy?" Scott asked the stupefied teenager.
Teresa was so astounded by the gall of the man that she caught herself
staring at him with her mouth hanging open, and several moments passed
before she found her voice. "Who do you think you are, asking me a
personal question like that! You're no doctor. You can go to hell,
if you think I'm going to answer you!" With that, Teresa shut her
mouth and sat in obstinate silence, glaring defiantly at Scott, daring
him with her eyes to test her determination.
Scott stood in thoughtful silence for a good long time while he
assessed the situation. Then like the professional he was, he made
his decision. Teresa tracked him warily with her eyes as he moved to
an intercom panel on the far wall. She could not hear what was said,
but she didn't have to wait long to find out the results of his
communication. It seemed like only a matter of seconds before the
door opened and a tall man dressed in the garb of a TYTC Handler
walked in. Teresa knew instantly that she was in trouble. Scott had
called her bluff.
"Hello, Scott. Long time no see," the tall Handler said as he walked
toward the Cooperation Seat and its stubborn occupant. "Got a
difficult one, I hear."
"Hi, Larry," Scott replied cordially. "It has been awhile. Haven't
seen you around much lately. How have you been?"
"Just great," the other man answered as he stepped up beside Teresa
and looked down at her appraisingly.
"Larry, this is Miss Teresa Davidson, and you're correct, she is
indeed proving to be troublesome."
"Hmmm," Larry said thoughtfully. "She's not bad looking. Nice
breasts. Perhaps a little on the old side," he chuckled good
naturedly. Then he added, "What's her story?" Without compunction,
the tall Handler placed a hand on Teresa's right breast and began to
manipulate its supple flesh.
"Fuck you!" Teresa screeched in response. "Get your hand off of me,
you filthy pervert!" she hissed while attempting to twist her torso
away from his invasive touch.
"Both mens' eyebrows went up in surprise. Then Larry chortled, "Oh, I
see." He continued to fondle Teresa despite her protests.
"Yeah," Scott sighed, unable to mask his growing frustration. "She
was sent over from The Facility. From what I understand, one of their
clients who's been spending some time with her wants to take her home,
but she's caused so much trouble during her stay that he wanted her
sent to us for some remedial training and preparation. Can't honestly
say that I blame the man. She's been nothing but trouble since she
arrived. I don't know what anyone would want with this one." Scott
shook his head in perplexity.
"Well," Larry offered after a brief pause. "Perhaps I can be of some
assistance here." He stared down at the recalcitrant young woman in
the Cooperation Seat. "You've got quite a reputation, young lady," he
said to Teresa, then pinched her nipple quite hard.
"Ow! You bastard!" Teresa yelped. She stared hotly up at the Handler
named Larry who was a good bit older than either she or her younger
tormentor. "Do you get your jollies by abusing helpless women like
the rest of your animal friends?" she hissed with a distinct air of
contempt. She was rewarded with another pinch.
Ignoring the disrespectful teenager, Larry said to his younger
coworker. "I've been away at school for the last month or so,
finishing up my degree. I learned some interesting new techniques
having to do with anal manipulation which might be pertinent here, and
it appears that Miss Davidson could use some encouragement." Both men
gazed down at Teresa for a minute, thinking. "So, what do you say?"
Larry asked, holding his hands out toward Scott plaintively.
"Sure, Larry," Scott replied gratefully. "If you have the time and
don't mind. I could certainly use some help."
"No problem at all, my friend," Larry said cheerfully. "Glad to help
out. So what're you using for Presence at the moment?"
"We put a size seven in her at her Double I," Scott informed the older
man. "She was such a challenge, the Headmaster insisted that Alex CAP
her early."
Teresa looked from one odious man to the other while they discussed
her like a side of beef. She couldn't believe this was happening.
"Have you the authority to remove it?" Larry asked, referring to
Teresa's anal appliance.
"Sure do," Scott said.
"OK, go ahead and clear her anal passage while I get set up," Larry
instructed, holding up a kit that looked like a canvass tool roll.
Then he turned and placed it on the small table nearby.
"Hey, what're you... huhhh!" Teresa's query was cut short when Scott
stooped and reached beneath the seat of the Cooperation Chair. By
design, the young lady's rear end was easily accessible, so with a
slow twisting motion, Scott withdrew the seven inch long CAP Device
that had been a part of Teresa for the passed several hours. In spite
of the distastefulness of the events leading up its placement inside
of her, the teenager experienced a distinct feeling of emptiness and
incompleteness following its removal, thanks in part to the wonder
drug, Thelazine. Scott took the torpedo shaped device to the lab sink
and cleaned it, then returned and placed it on the side table, ready
for re-insertion later.
Meanwhile, the older Handler, Larry, busied himself with his kit. He
unrolled the canvass pouch revealing several smaller compartments.
Each contained a tool or device of uncertain purpose. Scott looked on
with great interest while his Associate prepared his instruments.
"New stuff," Scott commented astutely.
"You bet," Larry replied. Then he removed from the kit a stainless
steel cylinder about ten inches in length and approximately the
diameter of a "C" cell flashlight.
When his partner held the device up for his inspection, Scott noted
that its surface was knurled to afford the operator a better grip.
Scott also noticed six small metal buttons near one end of the
cylinder. "Here, feel the weight," Larry said, offering the
instrument to his fellow Handler. We call it the Inter-Colonic
Exciter; ICE for short.
The device proved to be a bit heavier than Scott would have guessed as
he studied the instrument more closely. One end of the cylinder was
blunt and appeared to have a removable end cap, while the other
tapered to a diameter of approximately one quarter inch. At the end
of the taper was a shining steel sphere of perhaps twice that
diameter. Scott turned the instrument over in his hand slowly, then
he looked up at Larry. "What do the controls do?" he asked.
"Press the top center button," Larry said.
"Wow!" Scott commented appreciatively when the narrow end of the
device began to silently elongate. Looking closer, Scott couldn't see
any sign of a joint or seam where the quarter inch shaft slowly
telescoped outward from within the larger diameter handle. "How long
will it get?" he asked, releasing the button. In his hand he held the
knurled handle of the device which before his eyes had sprouted an
extrusion practically eighteen inches in length and a quarter of an
inch in diameter. At its end was the shining sphere.
"Pretty remarkable, huh?" Larry commented proudly. He had been
selected out of a group of ten candidates in his class to test the new
device in the field. "It's totally new technology. I see you noticed
there's no visible junction between the handle and the wand."
Scott nodded, looking closely at the device again.
"Would you believe the wand will extend to almost three feet!"
"Wow!" Scott responded in amazement.
Meanwhile, Teresa sat staring at the ominous looking device with a
rising sense of dread.
"So what's it do?" Scott asked of his partner.
"You're familiar with our Vaginal Micrometer, no doubt."
Scott nodded to the affirmative.
"This proto-type basically has similar stimulative functions to the
VM, although the R&D boys haven't built in the measuring capabilities
yet. They say they'll have that ready in the next model release. But
for now, this little jewel will deliver a variety of interesting and
useful sensations to areas of the female anatomy that were previously
unreachable without surgery," Larry explained. The two men were
silent for a moment as they gazed at the extraordinary instrument
which Scott held. "One remarkable feature is that although the wand
appears to be metallic, it is actually made of a highly advanced
polymer compound. Here let me show you something." Larry took the
unit from Scott, then holding it almost reverently, he pressed and
held the top, left button.
"Holy shit!" Scott exclaimed in a somewhat unprofessional manner.
Before his eyes the eighteen inch wand started to bow in an almost
lifelike fashion. Larry let the bending continue until the wand had
achieved practically a ninety degree angle to the handle. Then upon
releasing the control, the two men watched the wand return to its
original linear configuration.
"Another interesting thing about this polymer is that it's completely
non-conductive," Larry said. When Scott gave him a curious look, he
explained further. "All stimulative issuances are confined to the
half inch sphere at the end of the wand. Nothing is transmitted down
the surface of the shaft."
"Ahh," Scott responded, immediately grasping the significance of what
Larry described.
"Rightttt," Larry said with a grin. "Because of this we are afforded
enormous control over what part or parts of her we tingle." He
grinned again. "And tingle it does. It'll do burst pulses of up to
four hundred watt seconds, and it's harmonic resonance capabilities
are greatly improved over those of the Vaginal Micrometer," Larry went
on to explain. "It can do some really neat stuff," the older Handler
said proudly. He pushed another button and retracted the wand into
its handle then he said to Scott, "So let's see how your troublesome
Miss Davidson responds to our new toy, shall we?"
"You bet," Scott agreed enthusiastically. "There's a low stool over
there, if you need it," the younger Handler said, pointing.
Teresa had remained uncharacteristically silent all the while that
Larry was describing his hideous new plaything, but when the man drew
a small, padded stool up next to the Cooperation Seat and sat down
with the ICE in hand, she could contain herself no longer. "You just
wait a damn minute, you monster!" she threatened idly. Turning her
head, Teresa glared at the older man. Quickly, though, she felt
Scott's fingers on her chin.
"Look at me, Miss Davidson and be silent," her Handler ordered.
"We're going to continue with our little question and answer session
now, and I expect for you to pay close attention to me."
Unable to look away from Scott, Teresa didn't see the other Handler
move his shining instrument beneath her. She suddenly parted her lips
with a slight gasp, and her eyes became wide with concern when
initially Teresa felt a cool pressure against her nether entrance.
Scott watched her face closely, holding her by the chin and preventing
her from looking away. When he saw her make one prolonged blink of
her emerald green eyes, the young Handler knew that his fellow
Associate was in.
All that Teresa felt at first was a mildly increased sense of pressure
followed by a tiny bit of stretching, then abruptly her anal sphincter
dilated and admitted the small spherical end of the Inter-Colonic
Exciter. That sense of conspicuous presence that accompanies the
insertion of a CAP Device was not a factor when Larry extended his
magic wand. In fact, Teresa would have been shocked to learn just how
deeply she'd been penetrated by the time Scott asked his first
question.
"Getting back to your menstrual information, Miss Davidson," Scott
said after clearing his throat to gain Teresa's attention. "Would you
say that your customary flow is heavy or light?" He stared brazenly
at the young woman.
Teresa was quite confused and flustered by the recent goings on, and
consequently answered haltingly before thinking. "I...I guess
l...light," she replied. "Well... Medium, maybe." She felt herself
flex around the thin shaft in her rear end. Due to its extraordinary
design, it was impossible for Teresa to discern the actual depth to
which the shining sphere had traveled under the expert guidance of the
second Handler who sat silently beside her.
"Good," Scott said. "Thank you, Miss Davidson. And at what age did
you begin to menstruate?"
Teresa was having a difficult time concentrating on her Handler's
questions even though Larry held the ICE absolutely still. "I.. I.."
she stammered. "I.. Twelve, I guess. No, eleven." she answered.
"And do you normally use pads, tampons or both?"
The questions came faster now. Teresa was somewhat dazed, but she
replied none the less, "B..both, sometimes."
Unwittingly, Teresa started to respond to the rather probing and
personal questions almost reflexively.
"Do you suffer from PMS?" When after a half a minute, the distracted
teenager didn't answer, Scott asked again. "Miss Davidson, do you
develop PMS symptoms or not?" He was most insistent. Knowing the
girl was bewildered, Scott wanted to get as many answers out of her as
possible before she regained her composure.
Teresa shook her head as if to clear the cobwebs. "No," she answered
a bit more directly. The initial shock and apprehension of being
subjected to insertion of the ICE was starting to wear off.
"Do you ever experience vaginal discharge other than lubricating
fluids resulting from arousal?" This question garnered a look of
confused exasperation.
"N..no, but..."
"Very well. Are you receiving regular GYN checkups, Miss Davidson?"
"I... yes... I... but why do you want..?"
"Yes or no will do, Miss Davidson," Scott said interrupting her. She
was coming around.
"At what age did you lose your virginity, Miss Davidson, and to whom?"
Scott watched the confusion on Teresa's face gradually turn to
outrage, then to outright rage.
The teenager sat for several moments, her mouth opening and closing in
silence. Then at last she found her voice. In a low growl, she said,
"That is none of your damn business!" On her face she wore an
expression of unmitigated hostility.
The first thing Teresa felt was an almost imperceptible motion deep
inside of her. She remembered thinking that the supposedly wonderful
new toy that these horrible men possessed wasn't going to do a damn
thing to her. That was just before the pulse hit. The sensation was
not unlike being kicked in the rib cage, at once knocking the wind out
of her and filling her entire body with a thudding agony. Teresa
thought she was going to black out. Then gradually, as the fog of
pain that enshrouded her lifted, Teresa recognized a familiar voice
asking, "At what age did you lose your virginity, Miss Davidson and to
whom?"
Unable to form coherent thoughts, Teresa sat stunned and shaking for
several seconds before the question was put to her again.
"Pay attention, Miss Davidson. Look at me and answer the question,
please. Who did you lose your virginity to, and how old were you at
the time?"
All of Scott's questions were, of course, premeditated and designed
expressly to erode the subject's sense of personal space and privacy.
The shock value alone derived from the invasive interrogation was
enough to keep the otherwise rather well composed young woman off
balance and befuddled.
At a nod from the young Handler, Larry obligingly thumbed the controls
of the ICE. Inside the dark, moist reaches of Teresa's excretory
system, the highly advanced polymer wand flexed. Bowing forward, the
shrining exciter sphere pressed downward against the top of the
teenager's uterus which is located directly above her urinary bladder.
Taking Teresa by her chin, Scott forced her to gaze directly into his
eyes. He intentionally treated her like an errant child as he
repeated his question in a most patronizing tone of voice. "How old
were you when you first had intercourse, Miss Davidson? It's a simple
question, really."
Teresa was gradually recovering from the deep routed blow to her
person. The resulting waves of nausea slowly subsided, and she
regained a small degree of composure. With that composure came a
greater comprehension of her situation. With that comprehension,
Teresa's inherent self-righteous indignation returned in spades.
"How dare he ask such a question!" her irate thoughts screamed. "Why
he's nothing more than a demented child! These filthy, cretinous
thugs won't get anything more out of me!" she vowed silently.
Teresa couldn't have been more wrong. Scott, having seen these exact
same signs of wilfulness in other Guests Teresa's age, or perhaps
slightly younger, was well prepared for such an eventuality. Nodding
again to his assistant, Scott watched the pretty girl's facial
expressions begin to change. First came the raised eyebrows and the
look of surprise. Then as the specialized sound waves emitted by the
shining exciter sphere gradually increased, and the muscles
responsible for bladder control began to fibrillate, Teresa's face
reflected growing concern. It was when the warm urine began to
trickle between her buttocks, that the stubborn teenager really began
to exhibit those unmistakable signs of alarm.
"Wait... Nnnno...," she whined, seeing Scott's knowing smirk, but try
as she might, she could do nothing to stem the rapidly increasing
flow.
Reaching between Teresa's legs, her Handler casually cupped her full
vulva in his hand. "This would go much quicker and easier if you
would cooperate, Miss Davidson," Scott explained patiently as he
allowed his hand to fill with the warm and pungent liquid. "I ask
only that you answer my questions," the young Handler continued. Then
to Teresa's utter disgust and dismay, he raised his cupped hand from
between her thighs and poured its brimming warm contents onto her
belly. Teresa shuddered as the cooling urine flowed across her tummy,
filling her navel, then trickling downward on either side of her slim
waist. It had been several hours since Teresa'd last visited the
bathroom, so her urine continued to flow, making a spattering sound on
the tile floor.
"We can make this examination very unpleasant for you, little lady,"
Larry said from his seat beside Teresa's right shoulder. To drive
home his point, the older man twisted the handle of the ICE device,
causing Teresa to groan in response when the elongated probe shifted
position deep in her bowel. It felt like the thing was pushing
against the back side of her belly button. It was a most invasive and
uncomfortable sensation indeed.
"How old were you, Miss Davidson, when you took your first lover?"
Scott asked calmly. After returning his hand to Teresa's most private
flesh, he slowly rubbed her, spreading her urine over her soft skin
until she was through.
Teresa was mortified. This was by far the most degrading thing these
monstrous men had done to her thus far, and as a result, she began to
re-think her strategy of outright defiance.
A moment of silence...
"I was fourteen and a half," the headstrong teenager murmured almost
inaudibly.
"I beg your pardon," Scott responded instantly. He wanted his willful
charge to repeat her confession.
"I said, I was almost fifteen," Teresa replied in a miffed tone of
voice.
"That's a bit early, isn't it, young lady?" Larry chimed in.
Teresa reddened noticeably but said nothing.
"And with whom did you have intercourse your first time, Miss
Davidson?" Scott immediately inquired, wishing to capitalize on
Teresa's momentary affability.
"Oh, God!" she thought miserably. Teresa had sincerely hoped that
this one particular secret would go with her to her grave, but this
was not to be.
"I... It... It was," Teresa began. Her expression of nervous
embarrassment was unmistakable.
"Go on, young lady," Larry prompted. He moved the ICE ever so
slightly in Teresa's rear end as encouragement. Scott immediately
shot the older man a glance that, in no uncertain terms said, "I'll
thank you not to intervene unless asked." Larry nodded his
understanding with a sheepish grin.
"Answer the question, Miss Davidson," Scott ordered.
With a pained and crushed look upon her pretty face, Teresa replied at
last. "It was my boyfriend's dad."
"That explains her predilection for older men," Scott surmised. "And
what led up to this relationship, Miss Davidson?" the young Handler
asked, knowing full well this was a topic that the girl would prefer
not to discuss. After a prolonged period of strained silence, Teresa
began to tell her tale. What she would divulge to the two complete
strangers was the truth about a part of her life of which she was the
least proud. It was, until this moment, Teresa Davidson's darkest and
most carefully guarded secret.
Continued...
The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a
graphically sexual nature and may involve non-consensual sexual acts
between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or
dead is purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only.
If you are under the legal age of consent in your local jurisdiction,
or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
Authors Note: As a rule I prefer not to post multi-part stories, but
this one is getting so very long that unfortunately, I must.
T.Y.T.C. 4.7 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
Teresa, in an ongoing effort to be the most talked about girl in
school, figured that by dating Jeff Morrow, the most popular boy in
school, everyone would notice her. The fact that Jeff was nearly
seventeen and a junior, Teresa felt would certainly draw attention to
herself. That assumption proved to be quite accurate.
The two teenagers had been dating for several weeks when one
afternoon, Jeff invited Teresa over to his house after school. It was
the first time that she'd been to Jeff's, and to put it mildly, she
was shocked. The place was more of a hovel than a home, and as it
turned out, Jeff's father, Bill Morrow was not in much better shape
than his dilapidated dwelling. The bullish man was a raging alcoholic
and a known trouble maker. The very first time that Teresa met him in
fact, he made her feel very uncomfortable.
"What's the matter with your Dad?" she asked Jeff.
"What do you mean?" her boyfriend replied a bit defensively.
"I mean, he's always staring at me." the pretty teen said. "He creeps
me out!"
"Oh, don't worry about my old man. He's harmless enough."
"Well, I wish he'd quit looking at me like that."
"Like what?" Jeff asked.
"You know, kinda..." She let her sentence dangle. Then when her
boyfriend merely gave her a blank look, Teresa thought to herself,
"Boys are so clueless." But to Jeff she said, "Oh, never mind,"
dismissing him.
It wasn't until her third or fourth visit that the real troubles
started. Jeff had gotten hold of some marijuana somewhere, and
although it seemed out of character for the athletic young man, he
asked Teresa if she'd like to try some. The two young people were in
Jeff's room and had just lit up a joint when unexpectedly Jeff's
father opened the door and stumbled into the room. The man was rather
inebriated as usual and gave no indication at the time that he
suspected anything was amiss. He simply muttered something
unintelligible then backed out of the bedroom, leaving the two
startled young people staring at each other in shocked disbelief.
Bill Morrow might have been a drunk, but he was not a stupid man, and
he knew a good thing when he saw it. So he did a little home work,
and soon discovered that Miss Teresa Davidson was trying very hard to
make the initial cut for the school's renowned cheer leading squad.
He rightly presumed that drug use was not the kind of thing an
aspiring young cheerleader would want on her r sum , so all Bill
needed now was some hard evidence and perhaps he could have a little
fun. Weeks ago he'd hidden a tiny web cam purchased at Circuit City
in his son's bedroom on the off chance he might come up with something
interesting. He'd spun his web then sat back and waited for the fly
to light.
Teresa sat open mouthed and speechless for several minutes as she
stared at the screen of her desk top computer. Her heart pounded in
her chest like a hammer. The e-mail message had arrived marked
"Priority Urgent", and it was from morrow@earthlink.com. Naturally
she'd thought it was from Jeff, and had opened the attached .jpeg file
right away. When she first looked at the picture of herself and Jeff
sharing the marijuana cigarette, Teresa wondered why he would send her
such a thing. Then it dawned on her that she didn't remember her
boyfriend taking a picture. It was the body of the e-mail that gave
Teresa cause for alarm, though, and with it, that cold, panicky
feeling that things were about to get very ugly indeed. The message
said simply, "Meet me at my house Thursday afternoon. Come alone."
It was signed, "Bill Morrow".
School let out at three o'clock, and the Morrow residence was only two
blocks away. Even though Teresa intuitively knew that something about
this meeting was not quite as it should be, she still had not put two
and two together by the time she stood on the front porch preparing to
knock upon the weathered front door of Jeff's father's house. On the
way there, the young teenager wondered why Mr. Morrow would choose a
day to lecture the two of them when his son had football practice
after school. "Maybe he wants to talk to me alone before Jeff gets
home," she rationalized. Her boyfriend had told her about his dad's
temper, and Teresa was very apprehensive. "I hope he's not going to
be too hard on Jeff. Maybe I can talk him into being more lenient,"
she thought as she knocked on the surface of peeling paint.
"So you're the little lady who's gotten my boy mixed up with drugs,"
Bill Morrow growled, standing over the frightened and fidgeting
fourteen year old girl seated on his ragged livingroom sofa.
"N... no, sir, M... Mr. M... Morrow," Teresa stammered. She was
completely flustered. On one hand, she didn't want to shoulder the
misplaced blame for the incident, while on the other, she feared what
the man might do to his son were he to discover that Jeff was the one
who'd provided the controlled substance.
"Do you know what'll happen to Jeffery if his coach finds out about
this?" Bill Morrow asked angrily. He pitched a printout of yet
another image of Teresa and his son smoking pot onto the dirty surface
of the coffee table in front of the sofa. "I'll tell you what'll
happen," the older man continued. "He'll be benched for the rest of
the season, maybe even longer. That's what'll happen! Do you want to
be the one to get Jeff benched, young lady?"
"N... No, sir, but..."
"And what about you? Don't you have plans to become a cheerleader
soon?" He paused. "I don't think a drug user is the image they're
looking for. Do you?" He raised his heavy eyebrows and stared hard
at the troubled teen.
"N... No, sir," Teresa stammered. "But I didn't... It wasn't just
me... I... I... Ohhh," she whined in frustration and despair. Then
like lightning, Teresa turned on that innocent, "cute girl" look that
all young women seem to master at a surprisingly early age. "You
haven't told anybody have you, sir?"
Bill Morrow allowed quite a bit of time to pass before answering.
"No, not yet, but as much as I hate to jeopardize my boy's career, I
have to be a responsible parent. Unless you can give me a very good
reason why I shouldn't, I'm going to have to inform the school system
about this incident."
A wave of terror washed over Teresa. She knew she had to come up with
a way to convince Jeff's dad not to turn them in and fast. A flurry
of possible responses besieged her thoughts, but the one that
eventually won out was Teresa's recent and thrilling discovery that
she had a distinct power over members of the opposite sex. With just
the right smile and just the right body language she found she could
get boys and more recently, grown men, to do almost anything she asked
them to do. Abruptly Teresa changed her facial expression to one
she'd been practicing in front of her bathroom mirror for weeks now.
"Please don't turn us in, Mr. Morrow." Now, instead of a simple plea,
the young lady seemed to be hinting at some sort of bargain.
Bill Morrow was expecting just such a turn of events, this not being
his first attempt at sexual extortion. This one wasn't the first
little sweetheart his son had brought home, nor would she be the first
he'd had a little fun with. His boy, of course, new nothing of his
former escapades, and if Bill Morrow had anything to do with it, he
wouldn't find out about his plans for this little lady either. "And
my, my, she is a cutie," Bill mused.
"Any particular reason why I shouldn't?" he asked, toying with the
delectable teenager. When she gave him a slightly confused look,
indicating that she was somewhat new at this game, Bill pressed her
further. "What'll you give me in return for my silence, young lady?"
"Well, I..." Teresa began. She noticed an unusual and slightly
uncomfortable stirring low down in her belly. Even though her
conscious mind was a bit befuddled, subconsciously and instinctively
Teresa's "femaleness" knew exactly what it was that the older man was
proposing, and Teresa was in no way prepared for such a trade.
Usually her new found powers of persuasion allowed her to get that
which she desired without compensation. This time, however, Teresa
began to wonder who was bribing whom. She glanced hastily around the
messy living room.
"I... I'll clean your house for you," she offered quickly. When,
after a moment, her boyfriend's dad didn't respond, Teresa raised the
anti. "What about for a month?" she asked. "I'll be your maid for a
whole month." The man remained silent. Teresa was miffed. "What's
his problem? It's a fair trade. Jeez... I don't want to clean up
this pig sty!" she thought. Still Jeff's father sat in silence. It
was maddening as hell. "Well, how about it?" Teresa asked impatiently
when she could endure his silence no longer.
"How about what, young lady?" Bill Morrow asked with a wry smile.
"Haven't you been listening?" Teresa was getting exasperated now. "I
asked you what about me cleaning up this mess!" She gestured at the
disheveled surroundings.
Without a word Bill Morrow stepped closer to the beat up sofa and its
luscious occupant. He held out his hand, saying flatly, "Take my hand
and stand up, young lady." Reluctantly Teresa did as she was told.
Then once he'd pulled the pretty teen to her feet, Bill sprung his
trap. Catching Teresa completely by surprise, the older man said,
"How about if you take off that little pull-over of yours, and let me
have a look at your titties." He released Teresa's hand and took a
step back.
It was as though he'd spoken in a foreign language. "What did you
say?" Teresa asked, hoping against hope that he hadn't said what she
imagined.
"I said, my pretty little miss, that I want you to take your T-shirt
off for me. How much clearer do I need to be?" he added
sarcastically.
Teresa was speechless. Her jaw hung slack as she stared in utter
astonishment at her boyfriend's father.
"But..." she began.
"No 'buts'," Bill snapped, interrupting her. "Just do like I tell
you, and no one will get into any trouble. Now hurry up, girl. You
don't want my boy to come home and find us together, do you?"
"Well, no, I..."
"Then quit your complaining and get that shirt off."
"But Mr. Morrow, you're Jeff's dad," the distraught girl needlessly
reminded the older man.
"Don't you think I know that, sweetheart," Bill chuckled. "I'm doing
my fatherly duty here. I'm checking you out for my boy." He grinned
wickedly. "I'll only settle for the very best for my Jeffery, you
know." He paused and waited. When after several very uncomfortable
seconds had passed, and the pretty young teenager remained frozen in
shock, Bill took a step toward her. "I'll be happy to help you, if
you like, sweetheart," he offered.
"N..no, thank you. I can do it by myself," Teresa responded, hugging
herself nervously the way young girls do when they're afraid. She
shrank away from the older man and nearly fell backward onto the old
sofa in the process. She had the look of a trapped rabbit about her.
"Go on, then," Bill coaxed impatiently. "We haven't got all day!"
"Ohhh..." Teresa whimpered pitifully as she tugged tentatively at the
tail of her shirt which was tucked snugly into her designer jeans.
She guessed what Jeff's father intended to do, and although she'd
never done anything of the kind before, Teresa knew that she had to
protect her boyfriend's football career, not to mention her own
aspirations. There was no way out. Teresa took a deep breath, then
wiggling enticingly, she pealed the tight T-shirt off over her head.
Shaking her head, Teresa flung her dark tresses back over her shoulder
then stood clutching her shirt in both hands, in an attempt to cover
her nakedness. Lately Teresa was in the habit of not wearing a
brazier. At fourteen, her breasts had not yet matured to their full
size and weight, and besides, she liked the way the boys looked at her
when her nipples caused the soft cotton of her blouses to acquire
those two pronounced points. At the moment, however, she was
distinctly uncomfortable under the appraising gaze of her boyfriend's
father. He moved closer.
Without a word, Bill Morrow tugged the T-shirt free of Teresa's
hesitant grasp. Immediately the young teen raised her hands to cover
herself, averted her gaze and whimpered softly. "Hush now," Bill
murmured as he placed two fingers beneath Teresa's chin and raised her
face up to his. Then he took her slim wrists in his powerful hands
and with a gentle yet irresistible force, the older man pulled
Teresa's arms away, exposing her small but shapely breasts. Smiling
at her distressed expression, Bill Morrow released the girl's wrists
and slid his big hands up to her elbows. Then, forcing her arms to
her sides, he whispered, "You're a lovely young lady, my dear. My son
is a lucky boy."
"But...." Teresa managed before the man cut her off.
"Hush now," he said insistently. "You just be still, little lady.
Old Bill's not gonna hurt you. Don't you worry. You be nice, and
I'll be nice, OK?" he murmured as he moved one rough hand slowly up
Teresa's right arm, over the soft skin of her shoulder then behind her
slim neck. His fingers entwined in her warm and fragrant hair. Then
while gazing into her startled green eyes, he pulled Teresa toward
him.
Just as his lips were about to touch her's, the teenager turned her
head. "No, please," she pleaded.
"What's wrong, darlin'? All I want is a little kiss."
"But... I..." Teresa stammered still looking away. "I just can't,"
she whined.
Bill Morrow waited for several moments while he gazed down at the
beautiful young girl in his hands. Her nipples were already erect, he
noted. She was excited. Then in an authoritative tone of voice, the
older man said, "And why not, young lady. You're certainly old
enough."
In spite of her predicament, Teresa found that she was somewhat
embarrassed by the fact that at almost fifteen years of age, she had
not yet allowed a boy to touch her in any sort of a meaningful way.
Oh, sure, she'd made out with a few guys here and there. She'd even
allowed Jeff to fondle her breasts on one occasion, through her
clothing, naturally. But not once had Teresa removed any part of her
clothing for a member of the opposite sex. Until now, that is. And
ironic as it might seem, Teresa now found herself excited in a manner
that she'd not had a lot of experience with. She was one confused
young lady. The fact that she stood partially clothed in the hands of
the father of her boyfriend served only to complicate the flood of
emotions and thoughts that crowed to the forefront of her mind. She
was of course very afraid, but of what? Getting caught? Teresa
stared down at the floor and shivered.
Sensing that the time was ripe to proceed, Bill Morrow pressed on with
the seduction. "Come over here, young lady," he said. Then placing a
burly arm around her narrow shoulders, he guided the girl as he moved
toward a big over-stuffed chair. She didn't resist. Leaving her
standing, Bill took a seat. "OK, now the jeans," he said flatly.
Teresa looked up at him, appalled. She immediately began to squirm
self-consciously when she felt his eyes upon her. "Mr. Morrow, I...
I mean...," she whined with a pained expression on her lovely face.
"What is it now, Teresa? You don't mind if I call you Teresa, do
you?"
"No, I..., but..." His constant questions were making it very hard
for her to think clearly.
"But, what, young lady?" Bill Morrow pressed in an exasperated tone of
voice.
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and studied her
running shoes. "I... I mean..." Teresa glanced up at the older man
tentatively then back down quickly when she saw that he was still
staring at her intently. After a long pause, she spoke so softly that
Bill could barely hear her, "What are you gonna do?"
Bill Morrow knew full well that Teresa had a pretty good idea what he
had in mind for her. She was simply stalling, although there had been
a distinctly curious lilt to her question. "Oh, I think you know, my
dear. A lovely girl of your age... I'm sure you know." Unwittingly,
Bill had touched a nerve, and he got an angry little look for it.
"Hmmm," Bill thought to himself as he studied the pretty teenager.
"That's an odd reaction. I wonder..." Then in a very stern tone of
voice he said to Teresa, "Quit your stalling, young lady and get those
pants off. Shoes too. Now move it. You wouldn't want Jeff to come
home and find you like this, would you?"
His commanding tone startled Teresa, and before she knew it, she
reacted. Her small hands practically flew to the top button of her
designer jeans. Then, suddenly she froze. She looked meekly up at
her boyfriend's dad, pleading with her eyes.
Bill would have none of it. "Alright, that does it," he said angrily.
I'm going to count to three and those pants of yours had better be
off, or I'm going to stand up and peel you like a grape, young lady!
Do I make myself clear?"
Teresa was speechless.
"One..." the older man counted.
"W... wait," Teresa responded breathlessly.
"Two..." He paused, glaring up at the pretty young girl from his
seat.
"Ohhhh...." she moaned, as her little hands went to work, furiously
unfastening the recalcitrant top button of her tight jeans. She
stared down at her boyfriend's father in dismay, looking desperately
for any signs of compassion. There were none to be found. Teresa
unzipped her zipper. The older man in the chair sat perfectly still,
waiting expectantly for several moments. Then with an audible sign,
he began to struggle to his feet.
"Three..." Bill said with an exasperated exhale of breath. He grunted
from his exertion as he stood up in front of the girl.
Teresa's expression turned to one of utter terror. "N... no w...
wait. Please," she gasped. "Look, I'm almost through, see?" she
offered breathlessly as she wrestled with the clinging jeans while
simultaneously trying to kick off her running shoes. It was comical
to behold, and Bill had all he could do to keep from laughing, when
the pretty teen came very close to falling to the floor in a heap of
tangled denim. At last, Teresa stood before the forty-seven year old
father of her current "love interest", dressed in nothing but her
athletic socks and a pair of rather brief pale, blue panties.
With a distinct air of tolerance, Bill slowly lowered himself back
into his old chair. "That's better," he said as he gazed approvingly
up at the beautiful girl before him. She was truly magnificent. He
allowed his eyes to stroke every amazing curve, every enticing
swelling and crevasse. Bill knew that the girl was very frightened,
but he couldn't help but notice the amount of color that had crept
into the flawless pale skin of the teen's shoulders and neck. "She's
excited," he thought to himself.
Teresa hadn't had time to think after nearly making an utter fool of
herself by stumbling over her damn pants and falling down at the man's
feet. When at last she did manage to fight her way out of her
Jordache jeans, it took her a moment to regain her composure. It was
only then that the full realization that she was presently standing in
her underwear in front of an older man whom she'd only met thirty
minutes ago fell upon her. No one had ever seen her like this other
than her mother. A million thoughts raced through her head. "What's
going to happen next? Is he gonna hurt me? What if Jeff comes home?
What if her best friend Karen finds out?" Teresa glanced up at the
Jeff's dad. Suddenly she felt like a deer trapped in the headlights
of an oncoming truck. For several seconds she found she was unable to
tear her eyes away from his, and way he looked at her gave her a
really funny feeling in her tummy. She felt her heart speed up
noticeably. Suddenly even more acutely aware of her nakedness, Teresa
pressed her knees together and hugged herself. She felt the blood
rush to her face.
"Come over here, young lady," Bill Morrow ordered. He sat forward in
his seat.
"Wha... What're you gonna do?" Teresa whimpered nervously.
"Don't you worry about that," Bill replied. "Just you do like I tell
you, and we'll get along just fine. Now come stand in front of me,"
he said, pointing to the dirty carpet in front of his favorite chair.
"Then turn around and face the sofa." When the young girl hesitated,
Bill added impatiently, "Now don't make me phone your school
superintendent. You don't want me to go there, sweetheart. I promise
you," he threatened.
"But, Mr. Morrow," Teresa whined as she took a step toward him. It
was a small step, but it was enough for the man to reach out with his
big paws and grab her by the hips. "W... wait!" she gasped.
"Hush up!" Bill spat as he pulled the girl toward himself then spun
her around quickly. Teresa was helpless to resist, and again she
almost fell when he turned her to face the old couch. "Let's get
these down now," Bill Morrow muttered under his breath as he hooked
his thumbs under the thin elastic waist band of Teresa's satin panties
and deftly stripped them down to her ankles in one fluid motion.
Teresa was so startled, she was speechless. First she stared
foolishly down at her panties which lay atop her petite bare feet.
Then she turned and peered quizzically over her left shoulder at the
man who sat behind her. "My, oh my!" Bill said appreciatively. He
did not return Teresa's gaze at the moment, but rather he concerned
himself primarily with the remarkable spectacle of the two milky white
orbs of firm, flawless, female flesh just inches from his face. He
returned his hands to Teresa's hips and held her in place. Her smooth
skin was wondrously warm beneath his calloused touch. At last he
looked up at her and said, "You're in excellent shape. You get a lot
of exercise, don't you, sweetheart?"
Teresa was completely befuddled by this point. Current events had
moved way too fast for her, given her already agitated state of mind.
All she could manage to do was to nod her head dumbly. "Uh, huh," she
answered a bit breathlessly.
Bill Morrow smiled up at the pretty brunette, then as a distraction,
he gave a little tug on her left hip, throwing her momentarily off
balance. At the same time, he dropped his right hand from her hip.
It all happened quite suddenly and without warning. As Teresa stepped
back with her left foot in order regain her balance and to keep from
falling into his lap, Bill moved his right hand to the inside of her
left knee. Teresa just happened to be staring down at him with a
questioning look on her face, so Bill was treated to a lovely medley
of facial expressions ranging from surprise, to concern, to curiosity,
to alarm, then comprehension when with an obviously practiced move,
Bill Morrow swept his hand quickly up the inside of Teresa's thigh.
He heard the rapid inhale of breath, and felt her try to pull away
from him, but he maintained a firm hold on her left hip. Failing her
first attempt to escape his marauding right hand, Teresa instinctively
raised up on her tip toes as the blade of Bill Morrow's calloused hand
pressed against her, touching her where no one had ever touched her
before.
"N...uhhh! Mr. Morrow!" Teresa moaned. Reflexively she clamped her
legs together as her boyfriend's dad began to squeeze and kneed the
firm flesh of her inner thigh. "Stttppppp....." she said with a
hissing gasp between tightly clenched teeth.
"Easy now, darlin'," the older man said, ignoring her obvious
distress. "Just relax," he coached as once more he tugged Teresa off
balance. When she stepped back again, Bill started to fondle the
satiny smooth skin where her thigh muscle met her labia majora. He
felt her tremble as she fought to regain her balance and to close her
legs together. "Easy now, Teresa, sweetheart," he coached. "That's
right. That's my girl," he murmured softly as his right hand moved
slowly in and out between the young teenager's legs. Bill reveled in
that marvelous feeling of moisture and warmth present between the legs
of all young ladies. The blade of his hand pressed upward against
resilient flesh covered with soft curls, causing her to shudder all
over. Although from time to time she whimpered or pleaded
breathlessly for him to stop, Bill continued to rub the pretty
teenager for several minutes. When at one point Teresa looked back at
him, Bill cooed, "My little girl likes that. Doesn't she?" There was
no denying that moment of hesitation before she shook her head, "No".
"Now, now," Bill said patronizingly. "Be nice, little lady. You and
I are going to get to know each other real well here in a minute."
Upon hearing this, her entire body abruptly stiffened. "Easy,
Teresa," Bill murmured. "Uncle Bill's gonna be real gentle. Don't
you worry," but her expression of alarm was unmistakable. As Bill
continued his massage, there was little doubt in his mind that the
young lady was inexperienced. In fact, without checking her manually,
Bill Morrow strongly suspected, based upon her reactions to his
attentions thus far, that his son's pretty little girlfriend was still
a virgin.
As he slowly removed his hand from between Teresa's thighs, Bill
pressed upward carefully with his middle finger, allowing it to trail
discretely between the ample flesh of the girl's labia majora, though
not enough to spook her. What he received for his efforts was a very
pleasant surprise.
"You're a lovely young woman, Teresa," Bill said as he placed both
hands on the girl's hips and turned her around to face him. "Very
lovely," he repeated a bit hoarsely when he first laid eyes upon her
womanhood.
Teresa, though of slim build, was wonderfully plump behind her plush
covering of soft, tight, dark curls. With a wide pubic arch and
prominent vulva Teresa was as lovely an example of fresh, young
womanhood as any man could imagine, and Bill impatient to experience
her. Also, time was beginning to become a factor. Bill wanted to
take his time with the young beauty, and his son, Jeff, would be home
from football practice in a little over an hour. He intended to spend
many splendid hours with Teresa and didn't want her boyfriend to
become jealous.
Tearing his eyes away from the juncture of her thighs, he gazed up at
Teresa's beautiful face. "Her eyes are like emeralds," Bill noted.
She was blushing hotly after watching him inspect her moments ago, and
returned his gaze with what appeared to be nervous anticipation. She
seemed to be ever so slightly less self-conscious about her nudity and
ever so slightly more resigned to the situation at hand. Both were
very welcomed signs, and as a result, Bill decided to proceed with the
seduction a bit more hastily.
"You liked it when I touched you, didn't you, Teresa?" he asked
suggestively. She immediately frowned and started to shake her head,
but Bill interrupted her. "Tell the truth, now, sweetheart," he
coaxed with a shrewd little smile. "If you didn't enjoy it some, then
how come you're so wet?" he asked, holding up his right hand for
Teresa to see. Her big green eyes got even bigger when she saw the
undeniable evidence. As her boyfriend's dad rubbed his thumb and
fingers together slowly, Teresa could plainly see that they were
covered with a clear, silken fluid. Teresa stared at the man's
fingers with her mouth ajar. She knew that she must be beet red,
because her skin felt all hot and tingly. In addition to the shock of
recognition, the young teen felt deeply betrayed; betrayed by her own
body.
Soon after Teresa reached puberty a little over three years ago, she
quickly discovered that with very little provocation, she would become
embarrassingly damp "down there". The first time she'd looked at a
"dirty magazine", with a group of her girl friends, Teresa remembered
having to rush home to change her panties. They were soaking wet.
Her unusually active lubrication system was one reason why she'd been
so reluctant to allow boys to get too close. She was terrified of
sending all the wrong signals.
But were they the wrong signals? Bill Morrow certainly didn't think
so.
"Tell me, Teresa," he said to the distracted girl. "Have you been
with a man before?"
His question was so unexpected that Teresa wasn't certain she'd heard
him correctly. "Huh? What did you say?" she asked lamely after a
second or two. She stared down at the older man.
Bill chuckled as he began once again to struggle to his feet. Teresa
backed away from him apprehensively a step or two, but he quickly took
her by her bare shoulders and held her. Then staring into her deep
green eyes, Bill Morrow pronounced in a very decisive tone of voice "I
think it's time for you to grow up, young lady." As he spoke, he
dropped his hands from Teresa's shoulders and started to unfasten his
trousers. "I can't have my boy going out with a child," he said in
all seriousness. Bill's baggy pants fell to his ankles with a "clunk"
as his pocket change and Zippo lighter hit the floor.
Teresa looked down at his feet and the wad of his trousers around his
stocky ankles, then back up at his face. "But..." she began, her face
of mask of confusion and worry.
"What would his friends think if they knew that he was going out with
a prude?" Bill mumbled on, ignoring her attempted protest. "What
would your friends think?" His questions served very well to distract
the girl while he prepared. "Turn around," he ordered at last.
Teresa appeared to have reached sensory overload. Too much had
happened in too short a period of time. She stood rooted in place.
"I said, turn around, young lady," Bill repeated to the stunned
teenager. He took her by the shoulders and got her moving in the
desired direction. Once she was facing away from him, Bill dropped
his boxer shorts, then placed his hands on either side of Teresa's
slim waist and pulled her slowly backward as he again sat down in his
chair.
Stumbling slightly, Teresa stepped back until the backs of her legs
came in contact with Bill's hairy knees. As if coming out of a dream,
the young girl suddenly said, "Wait, please. I..." She looked around
and down beseechingly at the older man seated behind her.
"Hush now!" Bill admonished her. "There'll be no more waiting. What
do you think Jeff would do it he were to walk in right now and find
you like this?" he asked the distraught teenager.
"But...."
Ignoring Teresa's protests, Bill said flatly, "I want you to step back
one more time. Straddle my knees with your legs outside of mine, and
no more `buts'!" he added for effect. He pulled her backward by her
hips again. Teresa had no choice but to step to either side of the
man's hairy legs. It was either that or flop down into his lap. Even
in her befuddled state of mind, Teresa sensed that her time was at
hand. "Good, that's good," she heard the man say as if from a great
distance. She was getting a little shocky. "Now Teresa," he said
calmly. "I want you to sit down slowly. Do you understand me?" She
looked back at him blankly. "Just have a seat," he prompted. He
placed his left hand on her hip to guide her. With his right, he
prepared her seat. When she hesitated, Bill pulled gently with his
left hand. Losing her balance momentarily, Teresa teetered above him
before dropping her hands to her knees and bending forward at the
waist for equilibrium. From his vantage point behind her, Bill was
treated to a mouth-watering rear view of her plump womanhood and its
dark covering between her slim white thighs. Soon she would be his.
Then once more, Teresa baulked. Looking back at him from around her
swelling hips, the pretty teenager said in a troubled voice, "But I've
never done this before?" Her expression could melt your heart, so
innocent and uncertain. Her heart was beating a mile a minute.
Teresa was extremely excited in spite of her misgivings; more so than
she knew.
Bill smiled as warmly as he knew how and replied, "I know, sweetheart.
That's why I'm here; to teach you. Now just sit back a little bit
farther." He tugged on her hip again with his left had.
"Huh.. Ohhh!" Teresa cried when she felt the first hot caress of his
maleness against her untouched flesh. She jerked upward with a start.
"What's wrong, Teresa?" Bill asked patiently. In his right fist he
held his swollen penis. He couldn't remember ever being this hard.
Bill wasn't huge by any means, but he knew he had enough to keep this
little lady occupied. However, if they didn't get on with it very
soon, Bill was afraid he'd unload right on her pretty little ass.
"Which wouldn't be all bad," he thought wistfully.
"Is it gonna hurt?" the young teenager whimpered, asking the age old
question. She, like most girls her age, had heard lots of stories;
tales of pain and bleeding.
In an effort to appease her fears and to proceed with all possible
dispatch, Bill lied. "I told you, sweetheart," he murmured
soothingly. "Your Uncle Bill wouldn't dream of hurting you. No more
questions now. Time's a wasting."
"But I don't know what to do," she said quite frankly.
"Just have a seat, Teresa, darlin'. Let Uncle Bill help you." He
gave her an affectionate little squeeze on her hip. "You won't feel a
thing, and before you know it, it'll all be over. You'll see. I
promise."
Teresa's expression suggested that she didn't completely believe him,
but after a brief pause, she moved her shapely rear end downward.
Bill held himself tightly in his fist and tried not to ejaculate
early. It was a real challenge. This time all Bill heard out of
Teresa was a soft gasp when the head of his penis touched her. With
his hand still on her left hip, Bill prevented the young girl from
aborting her progress a second time as he pulled her gently back and
down. He gritted his teeth as he moved the head of his penis back and
forth ever so slightly in an effort to center himself beneath his
target. "God damn, she's a hot little girl!" Bill thought to himself.
"W... wha?" Teresa started when she felt him move against her.
"Be still, Teresa," Bill huffed breathlessly. "You're almost there,
just a little farther. Just have a seat, sweetheart. Sit back in
Uncle Bill's lap," he coaxed as he bent his head to the side and gazed
between the globes of the her perfect buttocks. Bill could see that
the head of his penis was already nestled in a soft bed of fur and
flesh. He also noticed that the first inch of his shaft below the
head glistened with her lubricating vaginal mucous. He was ready.
She was ready. So, without another word, Bill gave the lovely young
girl a swift tug, toppling her off balance.
At first there was only stunned silence. In fact, Teresa found
herself fully seated in the man's lap before she could even think to
react. Bill, on the other hand, sat stiffly in his chair, biting his
lower lip and trying not to cum yet. The saber of his manhood lay
buried to the hilt in the most immaculate scabbard he could ever have
imagined.
The defloration of his son's fourteen year old girlfriend had been
virtually effortless; at least for Bill. Her hymen had resisted for
only a fraction of a second before his penis burst it asunder. Then
in spite of her snugness, and thanks to her profuse lubrication,
Teresa slid down Bill like a fireman down a pole.
Several moments passed without a sound from the young teenager. Bill
remained utterly still, inhaling her fragrance and listening to the
sounds of the short gulping breaths of the warm little lady seated in
his lap. Then suddenly Bill's shabby living room was filled with the
sweet music of a young girl's passage into womanhood.
"Oh, Mr. Morrowwwwwwwwww!"
Continued...
The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a
graphically sexual nature and may involve non-consensual sexual acts
between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or
dead is purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only.
If you are under the legal age of consent in your local jurisdiction,
or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
Authors Note: As a rule I prefer not to post multi-part stories, but
this one is getting so very long that unfortunately, I must.
T.Y.T.C. 4.8 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
Teresa's relationship with her boyfriend's dad lasted for almost two
years. During this rather extended period of time, Jeff Morrow never
discovered the fact she was having sex with his father, nor was he
ever successful at getting Teresa into his own bed. Bill Morrow, on
the other hand, managed to escort young Teresa to his bedroom on a
very regular basis.
As Jeff's football career continued to prosper, so did Bill's
opportunity to entertain his son's lovely girlfriend. Twice a week at
least, and at times more often, Teresa was invited over to the Morrow
residence while Jeff was hard at work at football practice. Bill
Morrow kept the young teenager thoroughly occupied on those afternoons
after school, teaching her things she'd never dreamed of, and of
course, exacting from her in return for his tutelage, carnal pleasures
of unimaginable proportions.
A few months into the relationship, Jeff's team was scheduled to leave
town for the first away game of the season. A good week before the
two young people were to say their goodbyes to each other for the
weekend, Teresa received an e-mail from morrow@earthlink.com
instructing her to come up with a story to tell her parents that would
allow her to spend the entire weekend with her more mature lover.
Teresa had never given her parents reason not to trust her, so when
she told them she would be spending a couple of days camping out with
her girlfriends, no questions were asked.
It was a rough game, but when Jeff at last returned home, he wasn't
sure who was more fatigued; him or Teresa. He'd never seen her so
tired. She was extremely lethargic and unwilling to even be touched
by him. It was only the beginning of Jeff's troubles with his pretty
girlfriend. It might even have been a blessing were he to have come
home unexpectedly and caught Teresa with his father, but that was not
to be. On a couple of occasions, he unwittingly came quite close, but
both times, the young girl was able to get out of the house without
being discovered. For nearly two years, Teresa's relationship with
Jeff Morrow steadily withered.
Conversely, her sexual activities with Jeff's father increased
dramatically. There seemed to be no end to the man's appetite.
Teresa knew that sooner or later, she and "Uncle Bill" as he made her
call him, would be discovered, and the consequences would no doubt be
totally ruinous. Between bouts beneath the sheets, all Teresa could
think about was how on Earth she could free herself from what had
become for her nothing less than sexual captivity. Her relationship
with Jeff had by now eroded to the point where it was virtually
non-existent. Then, one day, quite by chance, Teresa introduced Karen
Eccles, her pretty blond girlfriend, to her unhappy boyfriend.
Very soon thereafter, Jeff delivered the "bad news" that he wanted to
break up with Teresa. Although she pretended to be crushed, and she
told him that she understood, inside Teresa was jumping for joy. Now
there was absolutely no reason for her to frequent the Morrow
residence. Finally, she'd escaped, and oddly enough, Bill Morrow,
who'd held her in his clutches for so very long, made no attempt to
either see her or talk to her. In fact, he never bothered to contact
Teresa in any way. One part of her sub-conscious mind fervently hoped
that the wicked old man was suffering horribly. "He had to be,"
Teresa reasoned. "As much as he seemed to require regular sex. I
hope his nasty old `John Thomas' (That's what Bill made her call it.)
shrivels up and falls off." She hated the dirty old man for what he'd
done to her, for the years of her life that he'd ruined. And yet,
another part of Teresa, a part of her emotional makeup that she would
one day become much more familiar with, felt a certain sense of loss.
At the time of her breakup with Jeff, however, the part of her that
despised Bill Morrow and all men of his age group tended to dominate
Teresa's character. For months she was filled with an undefinable
rage that she sprinkled about liberally and indiscriminately. None of
her friends knew who would be targeted next.
It did seem only natural that eventually her friend Karen Eccles would
become the object of Teresa's pent up anger, and sure enough, seeing
the pretty blond on Jeff Morrow's arm, and hearing stories about how
much the two young people were in love, began to gnaw at Teresa until
at last the embittered young teen found it necessary to insult Karen
in front of a group of their peers. We all know how vindictive
teenage girls can be when scorned, and true to form, Karen Eccles
fired a broadside of her own back at Teresa. In a twinkling, the
friendship evaporated. Weeks passed where Teresa went out of her way
to make disparaging comments about her best old ex-friend, Karen.
Then one day, Teresa happened to be passing through the neighborhood
of her ex-boyfriend and his perverted father. Perhaps it was morbid
curiosity. Teresa would never really know for certain, but something
caused her to detour from her intended route and drive by the Morrow
house. She slowed the car almost to a crawl as she cruised past the
shabby little dwelling. Suddenly a shiver shot up her spine. Then
completely unexpectedly, Teresa felt something she hadn't felt in
months. It was that strange, unsettling feeling she always got in her
tummy just before she... Teresa shivered again.
So lost in thought was Teresa, that she almost missed it. She'd all
but driven past the Morrow house when out of the corner of her eye
Teresa saw the front door open, and who should step out but Karen
Eccles. "What the?" Teresa whispered out loud as she hit the brakes.
Then she saw him, standing back a bit from the door so that he was
bathed in shadow. To any other passer by, Bill Morrow was all but
invisible, but Teresa knew it was him. The older man must have said
something, because Karen abruptly turned and looked back in the
direction of the open door. Teresa saw the wicked old man's hand wave
from the shadows, then Karen turned and walked away in the opposite
direction from where Teresa had stopped.
For several minutes Teresa sat staring blankly out of the windshield
while her thoughts raced, then at last she smiled. It was a cold
smile. "I hope you're happy with your new `boyfriend', Karen," she
muttered under her breath. "It serves you right!" Before she drove
away, Teresa made a mental note to see if Karen walked a little more
bow-legged in the coming weeks.
For years afterward, the anger resulting from her relationship with
Bill Morrow manifested itself frequently in Teresa's dealings with
people. In particular, concerning her dealings with members of the
opposite sex, and even more specifically, with those members of the
opposite sex who were thirty years old or older. It's seems obvious
that a portion of Teresa's rage resulted directly from the fact that
she was taken advantage of by a man old enough to be her own father,
but, as is generally the case, there's another side to the story.
For two years, Bill Morrow provided Teresa with more sexual activity
than ninety percent of the young ladies her age receive in two
decades. Bill might have been an alcoholic, but he had a very active
imagination where sex was concerned. In addition to a tremendous
volume of carnal calisthenics, Bill Morrow furnished Teresa with one
hell of an education. On the few occasions where she and her
girlfriends found themselves huddled around a good "dirty magazine",
no doubt pilfered from a dad or an older brother, the girlish chatter
invariably turned to comments such as, "Oh, God! That's so gross.
I'd never let a guy do that to me! Would you? No way!" It was these
times that Teresa was forced to pretend to be just as disgusted as her
friends, when in truth, she'd performed every act in the book. In her
early and middle teenage years, Teresa Davidson became a very well
informed and experienced young lady, and all thanks to Mr. Bill
Morrow.
Now to the point. In keeping with what is unquestionably The Youth
Training Center's most significant founding principle which states in
so many words, "that given enough exposure to sexual stimulation, any
female will eventually become a willing partner no matter what the
circumstances of her initial involvement," it can be deduced that a
part of Teresa's pent up animosity toward males results from a very
basic and simple emotional conflict.
For nearly two years, often several times a week, Mr. Morrow provided
the youngster with regular sexual excitement of good variety. In
short, Teresa became accustomed to the man's amorous attentions, and
once removed, she missed them and him. The discord within Teresa
occurred from the way in which her mind processed two conflicting sets
of feelings. A part of Teresa hated Mr. Morrow and always would for
making her his sexual hostage. Another part of Teresa, one that many
will say does not exist, loved Mr. Morrow and always would for making
her his sexual hostage.
It was the second and very real part of Teresa Davidson that the
professionals of The Youth Training Center would eventually uncover
and nurture. Unbeknownst to Teresa, and thanks again to her amateur
mentor, she received, in her formative teenage years, a more thorough
and productive education than most women could ever hope to obtain.
After her arrival at The Facility, Teresa's level of sexual activity
increased many times over, but unfortunately there was very little
uniformity to her early program. However, now that she was a Guest of
the Center, Teresa could look forward to a highly structured daily
routine of consistent sexual impetus applied by professionals who's
entire purpose wass to help her to realize her full potential.
Scott and Larry were definitely such professionals.
"And how many lovers have you entertained since your first, Miss
Davidson?" Scott asked, continuing with his probing line of
questioning.
Having already divulged her most guarded secret, the question seemed
rather innocuous by comparison. Teresa looked up at the young man
with the clip board, a thoughtful look graced her pretty face.
"Three... no four," Teresa said after a moment.
"I see," Scott said. "And what about during your stay next door?
Have you forgotten about those gentlemen?"
Teresa's facial expression immediately clouded over when memories of
the extremely unpleasant time she'd spent at The Facility flooded her
thoughts. Time and again she was placed onto the evil mounts in the
Great Hall of Horrors as Teresa referred to it. Around her stood many
of the members of her cheerleading squad with whom she'd been abducted
on that fateful day on their way to the National Competition. Most of
the girls cried miserably as the attendants attached their feet to
heavy steel bases, spreading their shapely legs to just beyond
shoulder width. Next came the knee immobilizing splints that further
prevented the girls from moving or resisting. Each day Teresa saw a
few new faces when she was brought to the Hall, and every so often a
girl would disappear. No one knew where she went. She simply
vanished, and to be honest, no one really cared. It was all any of
them could do just to maintain some semblance of sanity, because each
day after Teresa and the others were restrained to the heavy round
bases, the "Animals", as the girls referred to them in private, were
let in. After being formally greeted by the megalomaniacal founder of
the hideous asylum, The Clients were encouraged to "go shopping". One
after another the girls were chosen by the troll-like men who browsed
amongst the display stands and their terrified occupants. Cries would
then be heard here and there about the big room as special break away
dresses and undergarments were torn from lithe bodies. On a good day,
Teresa would only be assaulted two or three times. Other times there
seemed to be an endless line of slobbering males trying to force
themselves into every orifice in her body. There were even times when
Teresa was taken by two Clients at once. What made the existence all
the more horrible was that every day, all around her, Teresa was
forced to listen to the cries and pleas of her friends and teammates
as they too were subjected to unmentionable perversions.
"And to think that this demented kid would ever dream of referring to
that bunch of pigs as `Gentlemen'!" Teresa thought angrily. She
glared at Scott with renewed disrespect and loathing. Not for the
last time, she wondered how old the Handler actually was. He looked
to be in his teenage years just like her. How someone her own age
could be so cruel and demented, defied all logic for Teresa. She had
no idea how to deal with the young man, emotionally.
"So how many do you think, Miss Davidson?" Scott asked her once more.
Teresa stared blankly at the young Handler. "Huh?" she said lamely.
"I asked you to tell me how many lovers you had while at The
Facility."
After a long pause, Teresa whispered with a mixture of anger and
shame, "I... I don't know." She turned her face away from Scott.
"Well, perhaps I can help you," Scott offered in an almost friendly
manner. "Let's see," he said, consulting his clip board. "According
to our records, you were a Guest of The Facility for twenty-two days,
Miss Davidson. During your time there, how many lovers did you
accommodate on any given day? Two... three, maybe?"
For a long time Teresa wouldn't answer as she grappled with her rage.
She was beginning to realize that outbursts of her infamous temper
only brought her pain or degradation.
"Well, Miss Davidson," Scott prompted.
After a moment, Larry offered, "Answer your Handler, young lady."
Teresa had all but forgotten about the second man who sat beside her
on a low stool. She'd also forgotten about the vile device which he'd
inserted into her rear end. Now, however, as the older Handler
twisted the knurled grip of the Inter-Colonic Exciter, Teresa became
acutely aware of the deep invasion of her person. At last she
summoned her courage and what fortitude she had left. "Three...
Sometimes more," Teresa said softly. She still refused to look in
Scott's direction.
"I beg your pardon, Miss Richardson. What did you say? And kindly
look at me, please." her Handler demanded.
"Is the guy hard of hearing?" Teresa wondered, thoroughly annoyed.
She took a deep breath and turned to face the young man at her feet.
"I said, three or more every day." Her facial expression plainly
revealed the loathing she felt for her previous hosts.
"Thank you, Miss Davidson," Scott replied casually. "So, you received
three gentlemen per day for twenty-two days," he muttered as he did
the math in his head. "That make sixty-six, less two or three for
your first day of prepping and orientation." He paused again while he
figured. At last he said, "So, Miss Davidson, for the sake of
simplicity, we'll just say that you had sixty lovers while you were
with our neighbors. Does that sound about right?" He raised his
eyebrows and looked at his captive young charge.
Teresa was flabbergasted. Again, she could not begin to understand
how a person so young could have become so evil. "Did he realize what
he was asking?" she wondered. "Could he possibly know the horrors he
asked about so casually?" Teresa simply couldn't fathom how anyone
could discuss mass torture and rape with such blatant disregard for
human suffering.
"Answer me, Miss Davidson," the young man commanded.
The older Handler named Larry depressed a button on his hideous
device. The half inch diameter sphere at the end of the polymer wand
of the experimental I.C.E. apparatus moved smoothly up the length of
Teresa's colon, visiting regions of the young girl's anatomy never
before explored. Meanwhile, Larry pressed another contact, causing
the device to emit a low frequency hum which radiated from the shining
spherical tip located deep in Teresa's abdomen. Locked in yet another
battle of wills with Scott, Teresa was virtually unaware of the
advance of the rectal probe, however, she would have been astounded if
she'd known the actual depth to which she'd been penetrated. She was
sitting in silent defiance of her Handler's wishes when the device
began to produce its special sub-audible sound waves. Teresa's initial
recognition of this new phenomenon was indicated only by a slight
flaring of her nostrils.
"Answer me, Miss Davidson," Scott repeated. "Does sixty sound like an
accurate count of the number of lovers you entertained while at The
Facility?"
"And why are you sicko's so interested in how many times I've been
raped?" Teresa responded at last, with unveiled animosity.
Deep inside, the frequency of the harmonic emissions gradually
increased.
Scott stared at the vindictive teenager for a moment while he
considered his response. Several moments passed while he deliberated
on whether or not to honor her with a reply. Then at last Scott
decided to explain a few facts to his newest charge.
Before he began, he received a slight nod from his associate. Scott
wasn't exactly certain what Larry had was up to, but he knew that the
older man had been a part of many such examinations in the past, and
knew how to conduct himself. To a degree, Scott resented the man
taking liberties with his Guest without his permission, but decided to
let the matter slide for the time being.
"If you must know, Miss Davidson. We would like to accumulate as much
information as we can about both your recent sexual activity as well
as your past history in order for us to put together a suitable
program of training and exercise. Unlike the activities that you
participated in while in the care of our neighbor, here at TYTC, you
can expect to take part in a more structured program of routine
amorous activities coupled with systematic training and education."
Scott watched the young girl's expression change as his words became
more clear to her.
Deep inside, the frequency of the harmonic emissions gradually
increased.
"Although you will not entertain as great a number of lovers on a
daily basis, Miss Davidson," Scott continued in a conversational tone
of voice. "I believe you will find that those men and women with whom
you find yourself will provide you with assignments far more
comprehensive than those to which you have become accustomed. In
short, Miss Davidson, you are going to discover a great deal about
yourself, your sexuality as well as your proper station in an improved
society."
Teresa's noticed that her mouth was hanging open in utter astonishment
at what the wicked young man was saying to her. She was about to
comment when she heard a soft beeping sound coming from below her
seat. Just seconds after hearing the sound Teresa became aware of an
odd sensation spreading through her body. The strange feeling seemed
to be centered just behind her belly button, yet its actual epicenter
was difficult for her to place. It was indeed an unusual sensation,
totally unfamiliar, yet somehow very familiar. Her facial expressions
portrayed the momentary confusion she experienced as a growing sense
of warmth gradually extended down the insides of her thighs. Teresa
tried to ignore it and concentrate.
From his stool beside the Cooperation Seat, Larry glanced up at his
younger counterpart and said with a proud smile, "The ICE has locked
onto her HRV. It'll store the value in memory until we upload it into
the protocol application," he explained. Scott had a pretty good idea
what the older handler was talking about, but young Teresa was
clueless. All she knew was that she was beginning to perspire a bit.
H.R.V. stands for Harmonic Resonance Value. Once again, the dedicated
men and women of the TYTC Science and Technology Department have
achieved a breakthrough of staggering proportions. A detailed
explanation of the theory behind this astounding discovery falls
outside of the scope of this writing. Suffice it to say, what they
have uncovered is the key that will unlock the sexuality of any female
regardless of her age or experience. In short, our scientists have
determined that for each and every female there exists a specific
frequency in the sub-audible area of the spectrum which when radiated
from within by a suitable device, will cause, for lack of a better
term, an electrical linking of bodily tissues at the cellular level.
This discrete frequency we refer to as her Harmonic Resonance Value or
H.R.V.. Once the HRV is achieved, the low frequency sound waves act
as a carrier upon which emissions of varying frequencies or even
electrical impulses can be "piggy backed".
Earlier in the interview, Teresa had received but a small sample of
the Exciter's true potential when Larry used the device to induce loss
of bladder control. That demonstration had occurred without the
benefit of having determined Teresa's HRV. Now that Larry had her key
frequency, he could manipulate Teresa's nervous system almost at will.
Thumbing yet another control, Larry smiled when the teenager shivered
involuntarily. He'd spent many exhaustive hours of training with
numerous subjects, and by now the older Handler had become relatively
proficient in the finer points of control. There was always room for
improvement, though. Larry was very pleased when he glanced to his
left and saw that the young lady's satiny areola were beginning to
pucker. It was the precise reaction he was aiming for.
"Whaaa??" Teresa gasped, suddenly when she felt her nipples start to
become erect. A second reflexive shudder washed over her. Her
expression of confusion was undeniable.
"Answer the question, Miss Davidson," Scott ordered with no lack of
authority.
"Whaaa? Huh???" Teresa gazed at him blankly. She was becoming
rather distracted.
"Did you or did you not entertain approximately sixty lovers while you
were at the Facility. It's a simple question, Miss Davidson. `Yes'
or `No' will suffice." Scott was getting inpatient. He glanced at
his wristwatch. The exam was taking much too long. He needed to get
on with it. Placing his hands on Teresa's legs just above her knees,
Scott leaned closer. "Miss Davidson, answer me immediately," he
snapped, looking her straight in the eye.
At first all Teresa could do was to stare at the young Handler. Then
at last, she answered, "Yeah... I... Sixty, I guess..." She looked
away in shame as the full weight of her admission struck her. She was
just over eighteen years old and had already been with more men than
most women would sleep with in a lifetime. Teresa was deeply
humiliated by this fact. Scott made a note in her permanent record.
"Thank you, Miss Davidson," Scott said, removing his hands from her
legs and standing up. "Now, we must move along with all possible
dispatch. Please pay attention and answer the questions quickly and
truthfully. No more stalling. I am losing patience with you, and
Miss Davidson," Scott said, his voice suddenly becoming cold. "You
don't want me to lose patience with you." He paused to allow his
statement to register with the stubborn teenager, then he looked at
Larry. "Leave it in her, but turn it off for the moment," Scott
instructed his older assistant, referring to the ICE Device. "I need
her clear headed," he added. Larry nodded his consent and immediately
pressed a control surface. Teresa exhaled a shuddering sigh when the
unusual sensations which coursed through her body suddenly ceased.
Although she didn't recognize the symptoms due to the circumstances,
those odd and somehow familiar feelings she'd experienced were the
pre-cursor to orgasm. If either man had touched her right then, they
would have found her surprisingly advanced state of arousal and quite
damp as a result. Larry knew the youngster was turned on. He could
see it in her eyes. He could smell her ardor. Larry was extremely
pleased with his new apparatus.
"I want you to answer `Yes' or `No' to the following questions, Miss
Davidson," Scott said flatly. It was not a request.
Teresa looked up at him expectantly. Her face felt flushed. "What
came over me?" she wondered.
"Let's begin, then," Scott said, gazing at his charge. "She'd been
pretty close," he noted to himself. "Obviously you've had vaginal
sex, and after being a Guest at the Facility, you've also taken a
lover anally," Scott commented while making notes on his clipboard.
"How about, oral sex, Miss Davidson? I know for a fact that The
Facility isn't big on oral sex, but I've heard that from time to time
Guests are escorted to private chambers and more intimate surroundings
at the request of some Clients. Did you entertain Clients orally
during your stay, Miss Davidson?" Then after a brief pause, Scott
added, "And before you came to be a Guest at The Facility did you
orally pleasure any of your past lovers?"
Again Teresa was shocked senseless by the nature of the young man's
question. She stared at him in disbelief. In her mind's eye, a vivid
image of Bill Morrow appeared. The drunken older man stood before
her, his filthy penis clutched in his fat fist, while he instructed
her to open her mouth for him. Teresa shivered at the memory of the
smooth hot flesh touching her outstretched tongue the very first time.
She could remember his musky taste like it was yesterday. Bill had
been very patient with Teresa, teaching her just how to use her teeth
and lips and tongue. By the time their relationship ended, the
teenager had become quite accomplished at the art of fellatio. The
act had disgusted Teresa then, and the memories of it disgusted her
now. Following her "break up" with Bill and his son Jeff, Teresa had
summarily refused any attempts by later male acquaintances to persuade
her to perform that dreadful and demeaning service. Thankfully,
Teresa had also been spared the humiliation of attending to any of the
monsters at the neighboring asylum orally. It had been almost two
years since Teresa Davidson had admitted a man's penis into her mouth.
Unbeknownst to her at the time, this and many other things were going
to change dramatically.
"Miss Davidson?" Scott spoke, jarring Teresa back to the moment at
hand. She gazed at him almost stupidly. Without hesitation, Scott
said to his assistant, "Give Miss Davidson a reminder, please, Larry."
"No wait a min......" Teresa began, but never finished her sentence,
because the wind was knocked out of her.
With her Resonance Value already stored in its internal memory, the
ICE was able to instantly ramp up to frequency, charging the
teenager's cellular structure and linking virtually every nerve ending
in her body together. When the shock pulse was then delivered to
Teresa's rectal lining, it was conducted throughout her anatomy in a
micro-second. The resulting sensation was exceptionally disturbing.
Far more so than the earlier off frequency pulses she'd received.
Teresa felt like she'd been struck by lightning. She even thought she
saw a spark jump between her nipples.
"Have you ever had oral sex with a man, Miss Davidson? I don't need
the details right at the moment. We'll ask for that information at
another time," Scott insisted.
Left pale and shaking following the withering electronic blow, Teresa
was only able to nod her head.
"Very well," Scott acknowledged.
"Cunnilingus? Have you been tasted by a man or a woman, Miss
Davidson?"
Teresa was too stunned to resist and too fearful of receiving another
shock not to answer the Handler. "N.. No.." she said in a shaky
voice.
That response raised some eyebrows, but no comments were made by
either man.
"Have you had sex with a woman, Miss Davidson?"
Teresa, though insulted by the question, only shook her head, "No".
"How about masturbation? Do you masturbate?" Scott asked flatly.
Teresa reddened noticeably. She thought again about resisting, but
reconsidered when she felt the other man move the horrible thing in
her rear end ever so slightly. "Sometimes," she admitted in a small
voice.
In the interest of time, Scott elected not to press for details. "Do
you use any devices or toys when you masturbate, Miss Davidson?" he
asked.
The teenager shook her head emphatically.
"That may change," Scott commented dryly as he gazed at the
embarrassed girl. Teresa averted her gaze. Then he said, "You're
doing very well, Miss Davidson. Please look at me, and we'll
continue."
Slowly she raised her eyes to meet his. Teresa hadn't noticed before,
but Scott's eyes were grey.
"Now let's talk about your relationship with Mr...." Scott paused to
consult his notes. "Mr. Whitworth." He looked up at her.
Teresa returned the young man's gaze more cooly now. At the mention
of Gregory's name, she felt more secure somehow. Deep down there
still existed that small glimmer of hope that she might one day escape
this madhouse. When that day came, her fianc , Gregory Whitworth
would surely set things right. "Gregory was a powerful trial
attorney, and he would see to it that each and every one of these
demented animals would rot in prison," Teresa fervently hoped.
"I see that Mr. Whitworth is quite a bit older than you are, Miss
Davidson," Scott commented, immediately getting Teresa's attention.
"Are you in the habit of engaging in relationships with older men?
Does Mr. Whitworth remind you of Mr. Morrow, your first lover, Miss
Davidson?"
As intended, the question was devastating. Teresa naturally reacted
as expected, first with stunned silence, followed soon thereafter by
white hot rage. "How dare you compare that sleazy old man with my
Gregory!" the teenager screamed. He's nothing at all like that
horrible man," Teresa insisted. "Gregory is kind and caring," she
continued. "Uncl... Mr. Morrow," she corrected herself hastily, "was
a selfish bastard. He only wanted one thing from me and..." She
would have certainly raged on had Scott not interrupted her.
"Just a minute, Miss Davidson," he said sternly. Teresa shut her
mouth and stared at him hotly. Based upon the intensity of her
reaction to his question, Scott knew full well he'd struck a very raw
nerve. "Let me ask you this," Scott continued more calmly. "Doesn't
your Mr. Whitworth want the same thing that Mr. Morrow wanted?
Doesn't he want to have his way with you just like your `Uncle Bill'
did?" Scott smiled at the reaction he got from that statement.
Teresa was startled by his statement almost as much as she was annoyed
by it.
"Why else would a forty-one year old attorney want to date a teenage
girl?" Scott added.
Teresa opened her mouth to refute him, but the logic behind what he'd
said caused her to stop and think.
Scott seized the opportunity to question her further. "How often did
you allow Mr. Whitworth into your bed, Miss Davidson, once a week,
twice?" he asked. As often as your `Uncle Bill'?"
"Stop calling him that," Teresa snipped angrily.
"How often then, Miss Davidson?" Scott pressed.
She looked away and said quietly, "Once a week, sometimes."
"Sometimes?" Scott retorted immediately. "Do you mean sometimes more
or sometimes less, Miss Davidson? And look at me when I speak to
you," he added.
"Less, mostly," Teresa said softly after looking up at him as he'd
asked. She appeared to be embarrassed more than should be expected.
"And why so infrequently?" Scott asked her. "Your relationship with
Mr. Morrow proves that you have a healthy appetite for sex, Miss
Davidson. Was Mr. Whitworth no good in bed. Didn't he satisfy you
like your `Uncle Bill'?"
Teresa blushed hotly at that. Interestingly enough, she didn't
challenge him on his use of `Uncle Bill' this time. Bound there in
the hideous Cooperation Seat at the hands of mad men in place from
which nightmares are made, Teresa had to admit that the young man was
close to the mark. Gregory Whitworth did not excite her. When they
made love, it was mechanical and left her unsatisfied. Teresa
wondered reluctantly from time to time, what she was doing with
another older man. Why didn't she find a boy her own age? What was
truly unsettling, however, was the fact that on more than one occasion
as Gregory lay on top of her, huffing and sweating, Teresa's thoughts
drifted to Bill Morrow. As much as she hated the man, her "Uncle
Bill" had done things to her that had made her feel incredible.
Gregory Whitworth had never once been able to make Teresa feel that
way.
As if he'd read her mind, Scott's next question was, "Did Mr.
Whitworth have a big penis, Miss Davidson?"
With a stunned look upon her face, Teresa shook her head. "N.. Not
really," she relied softly.
"I see," Scott said, making yet another note on his pad.
"Did either Mr. Whitworth or your `Uncle Bill' ever make you cum,"
Miss Davidson?" the young man asked point blank.
"Wha... what do you mean?" she asked lamely.
"Did you have orgasms with either man?" Scott responded in an
exasperated tone of voice. Then he added, "Do you routinely achieve
orgasm, Miss Davidson?"
Again she blushed and dropped her gaze.
"Look at me, please," Scott snapped. "And answer me."
Reluctantly Teresa looked into his grey eyes. She was beet red when
she answered, "Not very much."
Scott gazed at the embarrassed teenager for several moments before
stating unequivocally, "That, Miss Davidson, we will most definitely
remedy right away."
Scott nodded to Larry who pressed the appropriate sequence of contacts
on the handle of the Inter-Colonic Exciter. Almost thirteen inches
distant the tiny sphere came to life.
The feeling was back, deep inside of her tummy. Teresa's face felt
hot, suddenly. Her firm breasts tingled and throbbed, the nipples
becoming taught and erect. The insides of Teresa's thighs tingled as
well. The smooth skin twitched from time to time. What was most
unsettling, however, was the way her skin "down there" seemed almost
to crawl. It felt very much like someone was touching her there.
Teresa tried to close her legs together, but of course, they were
restrained by the leg supports of the Cooperation Seat. She was
starting to feel kind of breathless as she licked her lips and gazed
blankly at her Handler, waiting for his next question. Teresa was
having trouble focusing. She wanted very much to touch herself. Her
tummy heaved once and she groaned audibly.
Once more placing his hands on her knees, Scott leaned closer and
asked one final question. "What about incest, Miss Davidson? Did you
ever play games with your Daddy, maybe when you were a little girl?"
Wave after wave of prickling, titillating energy issued from the
shining sphere and passed from cell wall to cell wall, following
pre-programmed pathways. One such pathway terminated at Teresa's
labia minora. The two petal-like flaps of skin which closed together
over her vaginal portal twitched and sizzled as they were caressed by
invisible fingers of raw energy. Upon very close inspection,
miniature balls of St. Elmo's Fire could be seen dancing across the
dark pink edges of these sensitive petals of female flesh. At the
posterior end of Teresa's labia the induced impulses dropped onto her
anal sphincter, causing her puckered brown gateway to clutch
spasmodically around the impaling, non-conductive wand of the ICE. At
the upper or anterior end of the labia minora, hidden from view
beneath a guardian hood of soft flesh at their juncture, lies the
clitoris. The tiny shroud of flesh was no match for the harmonic
carrier wave and the shimmering energy it channeled. In fact the
otherwise concealing and protective cloak only tended to transfer the
pulsing fingers more evenly over the entire surface of the highly
sensitive erogenous organ beneath. Teresa's hips jerked reflexively
several times. She groaned again, this time more loudly.
"Silence, Miss Davidson," Scott commanded. "You are to remain silent
while you are being attended to. Except to answer my question, of
course," he added wryly.
A second electron highway culminated along the outer circumferences of
Teresa's delicate areolae. With a very troubled expression on her
pretty face, the young woman struggled to maintain eye contact, while
at each of her magnificent breasts invisible tongues of energy licked
around and around her glass hard nipples in swift circles.
The professional that he was, Scott recognized the telltale hazy, wild
look in Teresa's green eyes. She was struggling with her femininity,
trying not to give in to her natural instincts. Scott smiled at her
knowingly and said, "You have not answered my question, Miss
Davidson."
Teresa had closed her eyes, briefly allowing the loving fingers of
energy to carry her away to a better place. "Huh?" she responded with
a blank and confused expression.
Scott felt her flexing her thighs beneath his fingers as she
unconsciously sought to close her legs around the waist of her
invisible lover. "When you were a little girl, Miss Davidson, did you
ever engage in sex play with your father?" he asked the troubled teen.
Rather than a reaction of outrage and anger which one might expect,
Teresa sat in silence for several seconds. The only indication that
she'd even heard the question, was the fact that her facial
expressions slowly clouded over from the muzziness of her ardor to
those dark, distant reaches of the psyche that are rarely visited.
Scott watched her very closely. Her lower abdominal muscles had
developed a slow rhythm of flexing and relaxing. Her breathing rate
was elevated and slightly ragged. A very noticeable color had made
its way into her shoulders, neck and face. Scott rightly surmised
that Teresa was wrestling with distant, long buried wisps of memory.
It had been a long shot, but now Scott was convinced that he was onto
something.
Teresa's body jerked once, but she remained deep in thought. Grey and
furtive images swirled among the sharp edged, and brilliant sensations
that made their way from the core of her being to dance over every
square inch on her body. Vague imaginings of her bedroom when she was
little came briefly into focus. There was someone there.
"Daddy?" little Teresa said from her bed. "Is that you, Daddy?"
"Yes, Terry." Her father called her Terry. "Daddy's here to make you
feel really special again. Would you like that, baby?"
"Oh, yes, Daddy," little Terry answered, pulling down the sheets and
tugging her nightie up to her chin.
"Daddy loves his special princess," the shadowy memory said, then he
kissed her tummy and her knees and the tops of her thighs and...
Little Teresa laughed and laughed. She loved her Daddy. He made her
feel so special.
"Well, Miss Davidson? I'm waiting," Teresa's Handler prompted.
She looked up at him almost beseechingly, as if to ask him not to ask
her to go there. "I... I... I don't know," she replied at last and
with great difficulty. She looked away.
In what appeared to be a rare moment of compassion, Scott decided to
let her off the hook for the time being. He made another entry on his
clipboard to revisit this line of questioning later. Incidents of
early age incest could be molded into valuable teaching aids, Scott
knew. "Very well, then, Miss Davidson. That concludes the interview
part of our examination. We only need to take a few measurements, and
we'll be finished."
The young woman gazed down at him as if from a great distance. "Let's
see how we're doing, shall we," the young Handler said as he casually
dropped his hand between Teresa's thighs. "Look at me, Miss
Davidson," Scott ordered as he pressed his finger tips against the
plumpness of her cleanly shaved vulva. It was like squeezing a warm,
ripe melon. Teresa virtually exploded in Scott's hand as he cupped
the smoothness of her womanhood.
All of the Guests of The Facility were not only shaven, but in
addition, their body hair was permanently removed using a patented
cold Laser treatment. Scott had the opportunity to handle one other
transferred Guest of the Facility a few months back. Many of his
co-workers preferred a soft coat of pubic curls, neatly trimmed, of
course, but Scott had decided after his first experience, that he
rather liked clean young ladies.
"I'd have to say that your gadget is working," Scott chucked to his
partner, Larry. "She's about as wet as they come."
Hearing his remark, Teresa immediately looked away, embarrassed by a
condition that had plagued her since puberty, and one which was
exacerbated by the designer drug she'd been given in the office of the
Headmaster.
"Look at me, Miss Davidson," Scott ordered. "A Guest must maintain
direct eye contact with her Handler at all times," he quoted.
"You are a very wet young lady, Miss Davidson," Scott commented
casually as he continued to manipulate her supple flesh. His palm and
fingers quickly became coated with silken fluids which he calmly
transferred to her heavy labia majora and the insides of her thighs.
Teresa was mortified. "Now that you mention it," he continued,
winking at his fellow Handler who controlled the device that was
mostly responsible for Teresa's discomfort at the moment. "You should
have heard this little lady when she made love to Cliff at her Double
`I'. It sounded like a wet popcorn factory in the Headmaster's
office." Grinning at Teresa's obvious distress, Scott extended his
middle finger between her ample lips then shook his hand playfully
from side to side. "Such a nice wet, little girl," the Handler
murmured as he held Teresa's eyes locked to his. Each time Scott
shook his hand quickly between her thighs, liquid snapping and popping
sounds filled the silent room.
In spite of her discomfort and humiliation, the added stimulation
Scott provided by touching her suddenly caused young Teresa to notice
the beginnings of something she hadn't felt in a very long time.
Scott saw the signs almost simultaneously. Even in the relatively
brief time that the young man had spent in the employ of The Youth
Training Center, Scott had witnessed induced female orgasm more times
than he could count. The indications were plainly evident to the
trained eye, facial expressions ranging from concern to wonder, the
inward focus of the eyes, the muzzy appearance of womb centering. All
were unmistakable and impossible to either conceal or simulate,
contrary to what most women believe.
"Our little lady is going to cum for us, Larry. I do believe," Scott
said almost jovially. Teresa gave him a very distressed look.
"I figured it wouldn't be long," Larry responded. "The ICE has been
`jazzin'` her clitoris and her tits for the past fifteen minutes."
Teresa shuddered, both from her impending climax and from being
discussed like a pet at the veterinarian's office. "Do you want to
let her go, or cut her off?" Larry asked. Teresa pleaded with Scott
with her eyes. Whether she was asking to be allowed to continue or
for them to desist was uncertain. In any case, the decision was
Scott's alone, and he would make it based upon his training, not on
the wants or needs of a Guest.
"I think that should be enough for now," Scott decided. He watched
Teresa's facial expression closely in order to judge her reaction.
Larry immediately silenced the ICE device, causing the hot young
teenager to begin to ramp down from near apogee. Keeping his hand
between her legs, Scott administered periodic manual stimulation to
Teresa while her ardor ever so gradually subsided. Although the once
proud young woman struggled bravely to regain her composure, and to
attempt to conceal the extent of her arousal from the young
professional, Scott read her like a book. The slightly pouting mouth,
the thinly veiled glimmer of longing in her green eyes, Teresa
Davidson was plainly disappointed that she had not been aloud to reach
climax. After removing his hand from between her legs, Scott wiped
his hands on a towel attached to one chair arm expressly for that
purpose. He then made a note in her records regarding her very
positive reaction to coitus interruptus.
"Let's remove the ICE, Larry," Scott instructed his associate. "It is
indeed a splendid apparatus, and I'm sure it will become a regular
diagnostic tool." Larry didn't try to hide his appreciation as he
pressed a button on the knurled handle of the Inter-Colonic Exciter,
causing the articulated wand which had attained a length of almost
thirteen inches during the course of their examination, to quickly
retract back into the handle. Teresa gasped and gripped the arms of
the Cooperation Seat when she felt the device withdraw from her
interior. It was a sickening feeling which caused her to shiver
violently. While Larry went about cleaning the ICE then packing it
away in its carrying case, Scott moved to the side of the room, and
after a bit of clattering, returned carrying a shallow metal
instrument tray. After placing it on a side table, he turned and
addressed his co-worker again. "You can stand by if you wish, Larry,"
Scott offered. "If you do, I'll ask you to provide `presence' after a
spell, but for now I think I'll leave her empty while I get her
temperatures and dimensions. Or, if you wish, you can take off. I
can simply CAP her again when the time comes. It's up to you."
Teresa stared from one male face to the other, astounded by the way
they discussed their atrocious plans with such indifference.
"I think I'll stick around, if you don't mind, Scott," Larry replied.
"Miss Davidson here was a handful when I first arrived. Seems she's
calmed down some, but you never know. They can get crazy on you
before you know it. She's a pretty thing, and I'd hate to see her
injure herself accidentally." While he spoke he placed his hand on
Teresa's right breast and began to toy with the resilient flesh.
Teresa shot him and icy stare. "See what I mean," Larry chuckled as
he began to twirl a taught nipple between his fingers and thumb. He
was referring to Teresa's display of hostility toward him. "She's a
feisty one alright."
While Larry prattled on, Scott went to work. Removing a glass
thermometer from the instrument tray, he shook the mercury down past
the "Normal" mark. Then without a word of commentary or warning he
reached between Teresa's thighs and pushed the small instrument into
her recently vacated rectal passage.
"Hey!" Teresa squawked in surprise.
"Silence, Miss Davidson," Scott responded. He glanced at his
wristwatch then turned and began to fiddle with another instrument in
the tray. After three minutes time, the young Handler removed the
thermometer from Teresa's rear end, noted the reading and immediately
placed it into her vagina. Next, and to Teresa's great consternation,
under threat of re-insertion of the Inter-Colonic Exciter, Teresa was
made to open up and accept the unwashed glass rod into her mouth.
Teresa gagged horribly at first, but she was quickly told by her
Handler to get used to it. "She would be tasting herself quite
often," he said. After approximately ten minutes, Teresa's rectal,
vaginal and oral temperatures were all duly recorded in her permanent
record.
"And now, Miss Davidson, I am going to get your vaginal measurements."
"What?" Teresa asked, forgetting her place.
Surprisingly, she was not reprimanded for her outburst. Instead,
Scott explained what he intended to do to her in greater detail. We
will determine both your current internal capacity as well as the
degree of fitness of your vaginal muscles." Seeing a questioning look
on her face, Scott tried to explain further. "Your capacity, Miss
Davidson, is simply that. It is a measurement in cubic inches of the
volume of an object or objects which can be safely placed into your
vagina at this time without danger of injury." His frankness was very
unsettling. "The second measurement will tell us in what kind of
shape you are in, internally. Have you ever tried Kegel exercise,
Miss Davidson?" When he received nothing but a blank look from the
teenager, Scott said, "Never mind. An appalling number women are just
like you, Miss Davidson. They feel that sex is to be tolerated, not
excelled at. With our help, on the other hand, you will soon be in
excellent shape, I can assure you. And the training that you will
receive will help you to realize the true value of your internal
fitness." When Teresa made no comment, Scott said, "OK then let's get
started."
Without further delay he reached between her legs with his left hand.
Then using his thumb and fingers, he separated Teresa's ample labia
majora, exposing the darker pink lips between them. Everywhere there
was copious amounts of vaginal mucous. With the two middle fingers of
his right hand, Scott entered Teresa, causing her to groan audibly.
He shot her a warning glance. For several minutes Teresa was forced
to endure the young man's invasive exploration of her femininity.
Scott pressed and probed. Without warning, he slipped a finger into
her anal passage then pushed his thumb into her vagina. Called "The
Bowling Ball" by many, Scott held Teresa thus while he palpated the
tissues separating her two abdominal passages. For Teresa, the
experience was not at all gratifying. Scott withdrew after a few
minutes and wiped his hands. Then, from the instrument tray, he
picked up a white cylindrical device and held it up for Teresa's
inspection.
The Vaginal Micrometer is another highly specialized instrument
designed by The Center's technical staff. At first glance it appeared
to be nothing more than an elongated phallus approximately one inch in
diameter and eighteen inches long. Made of white acrylic, the length
of the shaft was calibrated in both inches and centimeters with 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. On one
side there was a small LCD display next to a round, black button
covered with a protective rubber boot. The afore mentioned button
activates the pulsed shock function of the instrument.
Here's how it works. The graduation reference bands are obvious.
Using them, the depth of a Guest's vaginal passage can be readily
determined, although there is more to getting an accurate measurement
than one might expect. In order to ascertain vaginal diameter over
the length of the shaft, a bit of science is employed. Following
insertion of the device into the vagina, a pulsed shock of very short
duration is delivered to the vaginal walls through electrodes along
the length of the shaft. The electrical shock, although mildly
uncomfortable for the recipient, causes her vaginal muscles to flex
and contract, which in turn exerts a force measured in pounds per
square inch upon a myriad of pressure sensing elements also embedded
along the entire length of the instrument. By calculating the
difference in pressure values between vaginal contraction and those of
the same muscle groups at rest, vaginal diameter can be derived. From
there, it's simple geometry to calculate the volume of a cylindrical
solid based on length and diameter, less a little for the tapered tip,
of course.
Teresa knew what a dildo was. She'd even used one on a couple of
occasions, but she'd never had one used on her. That was about to
change. She watched then with a goodly amount of trepidation as her
Handler guided the tip of the device downward and between her thighs.
Instinctively Teresa tried to close her legs together, but of course,
she couldn't. Scott pressed the tip of the appliance between her
ample hairless outer gates. Glancing up, he first noticed that she
clutched the arms of the Cooperation Seat tight enough to cause her
knuckles to turn white. Then he saw Teresa push her head back against
the headrest in preparation for penetration.
"Relax, Miss Davidson," Scott instructed the young teenager. "I
watched you take Cliff inside quite handily. You should have no
trouble at all handling this apparatus." With no further comment,
Scott pushed the Vaginal Micrometer into Teresa with practiced ease,
watching inch after inch disappear into her until at last, his
progress was halted when the tapered tip arrived at her cervical area
at the very back of her birth canal. Scott took note of the
resistance he felt on the shaft as Teresa instinctively opposed
penetration. "Not too bad," he thought to himself. "She's more fit
than I would have guessed."
He made a note of the initial penetration numbers. Ten inches, he
wrote in his log. Next, and much to Teresa's dismay, Scott began to
move the instrument in and out of her, slowly at first, then with ever
increasing rapidity. In essence, he was fucking her with the hard
plastic probe. Scott used long strokes. Each cycle, saw the long
instrument travel the entire length of Teresa's vagina. After every
dozen or so repetitions, the Handler paused at the end of the ingress
cycle and pressed the tapered tip against the back of her vaginal
passage with a little more force. What he was really doing was taking
more depth readings. Almost everyone knows that a young lady will
tend to stretch a bit during love making. For this reason it is
important to take more than one measurement before settling on a
"keeper".
"Eleven and three quarters inches," Scott jotted in his log. After
getting two more readings of practically the same value, the Handler
had his depth measurement. During the process of procuring these
numbers, Scott was gratified to find that his young charge showed
discrete signs of participation. After a period of time, he
distinctly felt her start to clutch at the impaling object through the
handle of the hard plastic probe. Scott allowed her to "take the
wheel" for awhile, moving the shaft only when he felt Teresa bear down
in an attempt to let her adjust to the instrument prior to his taking
her diameter. Scott pushed the device forward until the twelve inch
calibration ring just touched her inner labia. She moaned softly.
Scott pressed the pulsed shock control.
Teresa's reaction was extraordinary. She even caught Scott off guard,
actually snatching the butt end of the instrument from his grasp as
her hips thrust upward to the extent of the restraint band at her
waist. Her head flew back against the head rest with an audible
thump, and a most unladylike grunt escaped her lips. Teresa's strong
body stayed arched off the surface of the Cooperation Seat for over
two seconds, before at last, her rear end fell back into the thigh
cradles. Scott could see the LED display flashing from between the
girl's legs.
"Are you crazy!" Teresa shouted at the young Handler as he slowly
extracted the Vaginal Micrometer from her body.
"Silence, Miss Davidson," Scott commanded. Then he turned to Larry
and said, "I think she can use some `Presence' now, if you don't mind.
Taking a seat once again on the low stool beside the Cooperation Seat,
Larry assured his fellow Handler, "No problem at all. Glad to help
out," he said as he reached up under the young teenager. With a
single deft move that only comes from constant practice, the older
Handler located Teresa's anal opening with the tip of his long middle
finger then pushed inside past the second knuckle until his palm came
to rest against her firm buttocks. He felt her shudder both inside
and out. Her head rocked back against the headrest and her nostrils
flared, but she managed to remain silent.
Larry never ceased to be amazed how quickly even the most willful
young ladies adapted to the TYTC Program. It was brilliant in its
conception, flawless in its execution and boasted a one hundred per
cent rate of success. That in itself is nothing short of a miracle.
During his tenure with The Center, Larry had certainly seen and worked
with his fair share of challenging young women. A few he'd felt
certain would have to be removed prior to completing their training,
but then something totally unexpected would occur during the course of
her stay, and from that troublesome and insubordinate girl would bloom
a Fully Functional Female, ready and willing to take her proper place
in society.
Clearing his throat to get her attention, Scott addressed his young
charge. "Miss Davidson, you are a healthy young woman." He smiled
when she looked up at him cooly. Based upon the data gathered by the
Vaginal Micrometer and my manual palpation I have calculated that your
vagina is capable of accommodating a mass equal to fifty-seven,
decimal six cubic inches. In laymen's terms, this means that you
should be able to comfortably entertain a male lover who's penis is
eleven and three quarters inches in length and two and one half inches
in girth.
Teresa's reaction was quite amusing, but Scott maintained his
professional demeanor in spite of her reaction. Her eyes were as big
as saucers. Outright astonishment mixed with a healthy dose of
anxiety would best describe the expression on Teresa's face as she
contemplated the significance of the Handler's statement. Granted,
she wasn't the best judge of this sort of thing, but she was pretty
sure that a man of that size would be difficult for her. She'd been
with a lot of men lately, but short of the monster who'd raped her
this morning in the office of the vile Headmaster, none of them had
been particularly well endowed, at least not to the degree her young
Handler described.
Recognizing Teresa's expression of concern, Scott offered, "You need
not be concerned about your well-being, Miss Davidson. At TYTC we
provide our Guests with highly structured activities. You will not be
expected to perform at full capacity until we deem you ready. Prior
to that time, you will enjoy a very comprehensive curriculum of
education and training, and of course, ample opportunity to practice
your skills.
Throughout his evil dissertation Teresa sat in silence. Although her
situation appeared hopeless, she would not give in to despair. In an
attempt to regain some semblance of composure, Teresa tried to
mentally catalog her surroundings, faces and names. When the day
came, and surely it would, that she would be delivered from this
abhorrent asylum, she must be armed with the evidence her fianc '
would need to put this pack of deviants away forever. She glared
icily at the young Handler at her feet, hoping her thoughts of black
hostility where noted. Her concentration was broken, however, when
the man at her side twisted his finger in her rear end, then began to
move it slowly in and out... in and out... in and out. Teresa
suppressed a groan and fought for control. What the man was doing to
her was so dehumanizing. She shuddered. Inside her anal sphincter
gripped the man's impaling digit reflexively. "God, I wish he would
stoppppp!" her mind screamed.
Larry realized the teenager was losing focus. He recognized that
calculating expression on her face. "She's probably planning her
escape or dreaming up ways to kill us all," Larry thought with a
little chuckle. "They all do in the first few weeks. Funny, though,
after all the time she'd spent next door. Sometimes I think our
neighbor's program tends to harden them, more so than condition them,"
he reflected. "Ah, well. She's here with us now, and it's time for
her to cast aside her old ways and pay attention." Larry knew his
job. He'd done this hundreds of times before. He knew very well that
as he started to move his finger inside of her, the young woman's
thoughts would be inexorably drawn to her center. By providing Teresa
with anal presence, Larry helped her to focus her thoughts on the here
and now. "No more fantasizing about escape or vengeance for you,
little lady," he thought to himself. When he felt her squeeze his
finger, Larry knew he had her attention.
"Are you with us, Miss Davidson?" Scott asked. "I expect for you to
pay attention." When Teresa looked at him, Scott immediately noticed
that the telltale indications of impetuousness and hostility present
in her expression just moments ago had vanished. "Larry is a good man
to work with," Scott acknowledged. "He definitely knew his business."
Scott glanced at his clipboard. "You mentioned earlier that you are
not using contraceptives. What exactly did you and Mr. Whitworth do
about that? And what about Mr. Morrow?"
Teresa reddened with embarrassment, then after a moment, she muttered
something unintelligible.
"I beg your pardon, Miss Davidson? What did you say? Scott pressed.
Staring past the young Handler, Teresa confessed, "They wore rubbers."
Then afer a short pause she added, "Most of the time."
Teresa recalled those many occasions when Bill Morrow had gotten very
drunk. It was those times that no matter how much she pleaded with
the man, he would summarily refuse to use protection. Teresa shivered
when she thought of the many times she'd driven herself home after and
evening with Mr. Morrow, feeling his semen leak from her depths to
soak the cotton lining of her panties. In her mind's eye, she
imagined his beautiful swimmers assaulting the gates of her womb. She
knew all too well that it would only take one successful soldier for
her to become pregnant with her boyfriend's father's baby. Thankfully
the relationship had ended before the unimaginable occurred.
Gregory, on the other hand, was much more malleable than Teresa's
first lover. On those increasingly rare occasions when they made
love, she had little difficulty convincing her more venerable fianc
to use a prophylactic, thereby rendering the physical aspect of their
relationship as unsatisfying for Gregory as it was for Teresa.
"I see," Scott said thoughtfully. Then he walked over to yet another
cabinet and returned with another pneumatic vaccination gun. "At TYTC
we believe that all mechanical contraceptive measures are lacking in
one way or another," Scott explained while he attached a glass vial to
the inoculation device. So you'll be happy to know, Miss Davidson,
that our chemists have developed an extremely effective, fast acting,
systemic contraceptive." Without so much as a blink of his eyes,
Scott lowered the gun, pressed its muzzle against the soft flesh of
Teresa's left buttock and squeezed the trigger.
"Snick...," came the soft report.
Teresa flinched reflexively even though there was very little actual
pain.
"There we are, Miss Davidson," Scott said cheerfully as he turned and
strode across the examination room to stow his equipment. Upon his
return to her side, he continued. "Now you can make love as often as
you like with absolutely no worries about getting pregnant." The
pretty brunette turned and gave the young Handler a nasty look. "And
speaking of making love, I do believe we're all through here, and I
know for a fact that there are a couple of gentlemen who are just
dying to make your acquaintance." Scott gave her a conspiratorial
wink.
Teresa simply could not believe what she was hearing. There was
little doubt in her mind now that she was dealing with mad men. Then
suddenly she shuddered violently as the man seated beside her withdrew
his middle finger from her rectal passage.
"Well, I guess I'll take off, Scott, if you don't think you'll be
needing me any further," Larry said good naturedly. "Are you going to
be a good girl, and not give Scott any more trouble, Missy?" he asked,
taking Teresa's left nipple between his fingers and thumb, he tweaked
the firm little nubbin playfully. Teresa glared back at him icily,
causing Larry to chuckle. "Yes siree, she's a scrapper, alright."
Then looking up at his friend who stood between the young woman's legs
as they lay restrained apart in the cradles of the Cooperation Seat,
Larry asked, "You all set then, Scott, my man?"
Scott scribbled a few more notes on his clipboard before answering.
Then with a smile, he turned to his friend and colleague. "Hey, I
can't thank you enough, Larry. It's been a real pleasure to work with
you." He offered his hand to the older man. Scott and Larry shook
hands across the naked body of young Teresa Davidson who stared up at
them in utter disbelief from her restrained position in the wicked
piece of specialty furniture.
After Larry made his exit, Scott spent several minutes tidying up the
equipment. Then, much to Teresa's dismay, the young Handler picked up
the size seven CAP device.
"Ohhh..." she whined when he showed it to her. Teresa hated herself
when she whined.
"Now, now, my dear," Scott said patronizingly. "You might just as
well accept the fact that while you are with us here at TYTC, you will
be expected to carry one of these." When Teresa refused to comment,
Scott stepped between her legs. He watched expressions of concern and
revulsion play across her face when he pressed the blunt tip of the
anal torpedo between her labia majora. "Why a girl of your stature
should have no problem at all with a size seven, Miss Davidson," Scott
commented idly as he rotated the device plump lips, coating it with
Teresa's own abundant lubricant. Leaning closer, Scott slid the tip
of the CAP slowly farther back between her thighs. Although Scott,
like all Handlers, could navigate the female reproductive anatomy
blindfolded, he knew when he'd arrived over his target. Scott could
see it in her eyes. "Just relax now," he murmured as he pushed upward
on the flat base of Teresa's CAP. Her expressions told Scott
precisely where he was. At first there was the look of concern as she
felt herself begin to dilate around the tip of the apparatus. Scott
continued to apply steady upward pressure. Then abruptly Scott felt
the CAP jump forward as Teresa's first anal sphincter acquiesced. The
moment was mirror in her expression as well by a prolonged blink of
her wildly staring green eyes. Then came a flaring of her nostrils
and a slight quivering of her lower lip. At last Teresa leaned her
head slowly back against the padded head rest of the Cooperation Seat
and gave a soft sigh at the exact same time that Scott's finger tips
came in contact with the warm flesh of her shapely backside. Teresa
Anne Davidson once again became acutely aware of her lower abdominal
passages and the fact that she was female.
End (for now)... SM
Author's closing note:
This chapter concludes Teresa's Tale for the time being. Following
her CAP placement, Scott introduces Teresa into the general population
of the Center, where she goes on to develop many, many meaningful
relationships. In the early pages of this chapter of The Youth
Training Center, I eluded to a few more new devices and techniques.
Rest assured that eventually, we will revisit Teresa to see how she's
getting along in her new life. Until then there are other tales to
tell.
Regards... SM
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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