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Subject: {ASSM} RP: "TYTC 4.1 - Teresa's Tale" - by The StoryMaster [M+~teenf, nc]
Date: Mon, 9 Oct 2000 19:10:19 -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.
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. 4.1 - 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.
The Empty Female
The Fulfilled Female
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
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