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From: StoryMaster@TYTC.org
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Subject: {ASSM} "The Youth Training Center" The Book -by- The StoryMaster - Chapter 07  [M+,teen, pt, f+, NC, Abduction]
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Date: Sat, 14 Nov 2009 15:10:03 -0500
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Chapter Seven - Back in the Saddle

Gerri's heart refused to quiet down.  No matter how many deep breaths
she took or how often she told herself to relax, the pretty teenager
was simply too excited and anxious to even think about sleeping.
Everything was in readiness.  She'd packed a light pack which had once
been her book bag, and two days ago she'd stashed it in the big
boxwood at the end of the walkway leading down to back lawn.

"It has to be tonight," Gerri told herself.  "I just can't take this
anymore!"  A tear appeared at the corner of her right eye then
trickled down her cheek.  Gerri nuzzled her face into her pillow to
wipe it away.

It had been nearly a year since she'd last seen her friends and
family, and during that time she'd lived as a veritable prisoner, the
sexual plaything of a man three times her age.  But every waking
moment of every day since Gerri'd been released from that
"reprehensible institution", she'd been planning her escape.  Twice
before she'd tried, and twice she'd failed.  Both times had been very
close calls, and fortunately her attempts had remained undiscovered,
or she would have been punished severely.  As if her day to day
existence wasn't punishment enough.  

If the truth be known, the entire time she'd been in the hands of the
demented men and women of that despicable den of horrors known as The
Youth Training Center, she'd been contemplating escape.  Although all
manner of unspeakable acts had been performed upon her person on a
daily basis, Gerri never gave in.  Oh, she acted as though she was
cooperating.  She even pretended to like some of the things they did,
For all outward appearances, Gerri was a broken young woman, and in a
surprisingly short period of time.  Even the loathsome monster to whom
she'd been assigned, and who had personally supervised the numerous
rapes and other atrocities she'd been forced to endure during her
nearly two month internment at the Center, had been shocked at how
quickly Gerri adopted an attitude of submission.  

"The sleazy bastard had practically broken his arm patting himself on
the back," Gerri recalled with disgust.  "He'd been that proud of
himself.  Never once had he shown the slightest bit of sympathy or
compassion for her or any of the other miserable creatures they
referred to as their "Guests".  None of them did.  None of those
demons in white had exhibited even the tiniest spark of humanity in
any of their dealings with her," Gerri reflected.  

In any case, her deception had evidently been adequate to dupe all of
them, for just forty-five days after her initial abduction, Gerri was
released into the custody of her "Life Companion".  She remembered
talking to one young girl who told her she'd been enslaved at the
training center for nearly a year.  Gerri recalled thinking she'd
rather die than endure the depraved existence of a TYTC Guest for that
long.  Thankfully, she'd beguiled and bluffed her way out before more
drastic measures became necessary.

Living with Victor, her "Life Companion" as he was referred to by the
TYTC monsters, was like a walk in the park by comparison.  Sure, she
had to "put out" for him and occasionally for one of his sick friends,
but there was no more public bathing or "Group Corrective
Opportunities", which were nothing more than gang rapes.  Compared to
life at The Youth Training Center, living with Victor was at least
tolerable, and unlike the Center where escape proved to be utterly out
of the question, Gerri was certain that no matter how closely she was
monitored, an opportunity to make a break would present itself sooner
or later.

"It has to be tonight," Gerri whispered to herself, confirming her
commitment to escape.  For that night was one of the rare occasions
where Gerri found herself sleeping alone.  Victor was passed out drunk
in the living room.  Even through the closed door of her small
bedroom, Gerri could hear the obese man snoring loudly.  It was
extremely difficult for her to be patient, for she wanted to be free
of this heinous existence more than anything on Earth.  Time seemed to
grind to a halt.  It was thirty-two minutes ago that the party broke
up, and the three other men stumbled out to their cars and drove away.
Gerri had given herself a hasty sponge bath and brushed her teeth in
an effort to at least partially restore her dignity, but she didn't
want to risk a bath.  It would have made too much noise and taken too
long.  As a result, fluids continued to weep from both of her
abdominal openings.  Gerri indeed had a belly full.  Victor had
insisted upon sharing her with his friends, and naturally they'd
enthusiastically accepted his kind offer.  Gerri burped softly and
immediately tasted semen.  "Forty-nine minutes," she whispered.

Gerri made it out of the back door without mishap.  There had been one
close call, when a floor board in the hallway just outside the
livingroom had creaked loudly.  She'd cursed her own stupidity.  After
all, for weeks she'd gone to great lengths to memorize every loose
board and every squeaky step in the old house in preparation for her
next escape attempt.  Thankfully the sound hadn't aroused her sleeping
Companion.  

It was October and the night air was cool.  Gerri felt unbelievably
exhilarated as she stepped off the back porch and stole silently down
the walkway.  After retrieving her pack, she picked her way across the
broad lawn, heading she hoped in the direction of the large stand of
trees that bordered Victor's property.  It was a moonless night and
the air was as still as death.  Gerri could hear her heart pounding in
her ears as the tops of the trees loomed into view against the starry
backdrop of the sky.  Gerri stopped just short of the woods and gazed
up at the constellation of Orion.  "I'm free," she breathed.

"Can you turn the heat up a little?" The music playing on the car
stereo was uncomfortably loud, and Gerri practically had to shout at
the shadowy figure in the front seat of the darkened automobile to
make herself heard.   "Don't you think it's cold?" she asked the man
seated next to her.  When he didn't answer, Gerri turned and gazed out
of the window at the fluffy white clouds fleeting past the wing tip.
The world was still and peaceful. 

"Wing tip?  Clouds?  Something isn't right," a voice deep in her
subconscious mind shouted, but Gerri didn't want to listen.  She was
so relaxed and warm, floating in the greyness.  "How could anything be
wrong?" her muzzy mind inquired dreamily.  "After all, she was free,
and she was going home."

"Wake up dear," her mother called to her.  She was home at last. "Wake
up child," her mother said more insistently.

"Noooo, Mom," Gerri moaned.  She was so very sleepy.  "I don't wanna
get up yet," she sighed, but the surrounding greyness was getting
brighter.  

"Wake up sleepy head," her Mom's voice cooed, and then something
really weird happened.  The pitch of her mother's voice suddenly
became deeper, and she called Gerri by her last name.

"Wake up, Miss Logan," her mother's more masculine voice repeated.

"Nnnnoo!  Mm..mmmm," Gerri groaned, but she could no longer deny that
something was terribly wrong.  "Was someone... someone touching her?" 

Gerri's eyes snapped open, and above her a face loomed slowly into
focus.  

"Good morning, Miss Logan," the man who leaned over her said
pleasantly.  Only then did Gerri realize that it was he who had his
hand between her legs.

"Good morning, Miss Logan," he said again and smiled.  "Good of you to
join us," he commented casually.

Gerri stared up at him uncomprehending at first from the table upon
which she lay.  Then slowly she began to recognize her surroundings
and that she appeared to be undressed.  Gerri's big brown eyes grew
suddenly wider when the man cupped her firmly, then wider still, and a
startled whimper escaped her lips when he entered her vaginally with
his long middle finger.

"Silence, Miss Logan," the man said.  "Guests shall remain silent
while being attended to," he quoted the seventh TYTC Non-negotiable
standard.  He pushed his finger into Gerri until the backs of his
knuckles pressed firmly against her outer labia.  Then he began to
palpate her vaginal walls, probing as deeply as he could comfortably
reach in all directions.  

Gerri was for the moment in shock and failed to notice when a second
man entered the room.  Then he too was leaning over her.

"Ah, Miss Logan," the man in white said.  "So good to see you again."
Then turning to his colleague he asked casually, "How is she?"

"Slightly moist," the man replied, moving his finger in and out slowly
while he spoke.  "But she's definitely out of shape.  Here, see for
yourself," he offered in a conversational tone of voice.

With a subtle fluidity of motion, one man's finger was replaced by the
finger of the other while Gerri lay staring up in horror at the
familiar face.

"I see what you mean," Andrew, Gerri's one time Principal Handler,
said as he too began to explore her most private bodily spaces.  "We
haven't been doing our exercises, have we, Miss Logan?" he murmured.
Then glancing up at his colleague in white, Andrew said, "Let's get
her started on Thelazine, Phil."  

Gerri's mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out, as she stared
up at the man she'd so despised, the man she'd thought for certain
she'd never see again.  But she was too stunned to resist or put up
any sort of fight.

"Squeeze my finger, please, Miss Logan," Andrew ordered succinctly. 

Gerri couldn't believe this was all happening.  It had to be some kind
of bad dream.  There had to be some kind of mistake.  She turned away
in silence.  When she did, Gerri felt the man's finger move upward
inside of her, almost as though he was trying to touch her clitoris
from the inside.  Then the pain struck like someone driving an ice
pick into her belly button.

Andrew, like every Handler in the employ of The Youth Training Center
understood the female anatomy intimately, inside and out.  He knew
every point that would bring pleasure, as well as the exact location
of those places, which when touched just so, could instantly get a
girl's attention.

"Look at me, Miss Logan and be silent!" he ordered in response to the
rather visceral grunt which escaped Gerri's lips.  "Now squeeze my
finger, please.  You used to be such a  cooperative young lady,"
Andrew commented affectionately as he gazed down at the stunned
teenager.  

Gerri had forgotten the kind of control that these men possessed.
During her last period in residence Gerri had experienced sensations
she would not have thought possible at the hands of these men.  At
first, in order to preserve her sanity or at least her dignity,  she'd
tried to deny the fact that they were able to excite her.  "They're
raping you!  How can you enjoy being raped!" she admonished herself.
She felt weak and out of control.  Eventually Gerri realized that
these men knew exactly what they were doing.  To them, the systematic
manipulation of the female reproductive anatomy was a true science.
They could make her feel and do anything they wished, and there was
very little she could do to stop them.  It was utterly humiliating,
not to mention infuriating.  

Discovering that she was incapable of resisting their attentions she
tried to disguise her ardor in an effort to at least deny the white
clad monsters the satisfaction of seeing her become aroused, but that
didn't work well either.  What Gerri failed to realize was that she
was fighting a losing battle from the very beginning.  

A well known precept at TYTC, one which just so happens to be the
fundamental cornerstone of the Institution's doctrine and the
foundation of all of its conditioning programs states that, "Given a
suitable amount of sexual impetus by a partner, partners 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
relationship."

And now she was back in their hands.  More accurately, their hands, or
rather their fingers, were back in Gerri.  Gerri squeezed with her
vaginal muscles.

"Again, please," Andrew said flatly and pushed his finger into Gerri
deeper still, noting the flexing of her stomach muscles in response to
his intrusion.  "Better," he commented when he felt her bear down.
"Again, please, Miss Logan and let's get in step," Andrew instructed
as he slowly withdrew his finger.  

Gerri hadn't forgotten what she'd been taught.  As the man's finger
withdrew, she clamped down on it as tightly as she could.  Then when
she felt him begin to push back into her, she relaxed her muscles to
allow him unhindered access.

"Very good, Miss Logan," Andrew commented as he continued to thrust
his finger into her slowly and evenly again and again.  It wasn't
until Gerri heard the first sticky, snapping sounds coming from
between her legs that she realized that once again, she'd allowed
herself to fall under their spell, and almost at once those old
familiar bitter feelings of self-loathing and disgust reared their
ugly heads.  

For several minutes Andrew continued to administer to Gerri with his
middle finger.  As he did, he closely monitored her face and eyes, for
his training allowed him to read her expressions and body language
much like an owner's manual.  He plainly observed her dismay, and
humiliation, conversely he also noted the color begin to rise in her
neck and shoulders.  Andrew removed his finger from the teenager's
vagina but continued to rub her externally, squeezing her resilient
flesh and allowing her luxuriant pubic curls to slide between his
fingers. 

"Look at me, Miss Logan," Andrew coached whenever she closed her eyes,
or when he felt that her attention was wavering.  The Handler knew she
lacked a focal point, but that would soon be remedied.  Just then Phil
returned carrying a small, glass and plastic cylinder.  Without
slowing his manual attentions, Andrew placed his free hand under
Gerri's left thigh and rolled her onto her right side.  Phil pressed
the tip of the auto-injector against the firm flesh of the girl's left
buttock and depressed the release button.

"Snick," came the soft report, and a measured amount of the wonder
drug, Thelazine was injected into the fatty tissues of Gerri's rather
handsome derriere.   The drug would begin to take effect in about
fifteen minutes, and after that Miss Gerri Logan would find it much
easier to accept her surroundings as well as the attentions of the
dedicated staff of The Youth Training Center.

"Thank you, Phil," Andrew said as he rolled Gerri back into the supine
position on the exam table.  Keeping one hand between her thighs, the
Handler began to fondle the teenager's firm breasts with the other.  

Gerri's breasts weren't too large, but they were nicely shaped.  They
were well rounded with reasonably puffy areolae and nipples
approximately the size of pencil erasers.  As Andrew handled their
supple mass, he commented casually, "I do believe we've gotten a
little bigger, Miss Logan."  He winked at the distraught girl.  Then
to Phil he said, "Make a note in her chart that we'll need to monitor
breast FRS during intercourse.  Our little lady's growing up."  Then
looking down at Gerri, Andrew asked, "How old are you now, my dear?"
He pinched her right nipple playfully.

"F..fifteen," she answered with a little wince.

"Fifteen," Andrew echoed.  "Now that is indeed a magical age for a
girl.  I think you're going to get a lot more out of our program this
time around, Gerri," he said with a warm smile.  "I wish I could say
that I'll be taking a leadership roll in your daily instruction, but
unfortunately, someone else will be working with you this time, my
dear," Andrew added with a noticeable hint of disappointment in his
voice.  

Gerri stared up at him, trying hard to conceal her satisfaction in the
knowledge that she would not have to submit to the horrible Andrew
again.  She'd had quite enough of him during her last stay with TYTC,
for he'd insisted upon taking her at least twice every day, and often
three or four times.  Gerri remembered that he hadn't been
particularly brutal or rough.  It was his attitude of superiority and
the patronizing way he talked to her when they were together that she
hated above all else.  

The girl was quite obviously relieved by his disclosure, but being the
professional that he was, Andrew didn't take it personally.  To the
contrary, he viewed Gerri's attempt to conceal her distaste for him as
an opportunity to confuse and confound in an ongoing effort to erode
her self-confidence.  

Continuing in a conversational tone of voice, Andrew said, "Let's get
you up, my dear.  You have an appointment with the Headmaster in about
thirty minutes."  Placing a hand under her shoulders, Andrew helped
Gerri to sit up.  

She was still pretty dizzy from the collection tranquillizer, but that
would soon wear off.  Meanwhile, Andrew assisted her as she swung her
long legs over the edge of the table.  "Slowly now, my dear," he said,
wrapping an arm around her slim waist to help steady her as she slid
off the edge of the table and onto her own two feet.

"She's still an attractive young lady," Andrew noted as he looked her
up and down, and recalled with fondness the times they'd spent
together a year ago.  Miss Logan had quickly developed into a
surprisingly accommodating lover, and ironically it was the very
swiftness with which she accepted her conditioning that set off the
alarm bells and resulted in her being recalled.

Gerri Logan was indeed a pretty youngster.  At fifteen and a half
years of age, she stood about five feet, five inches tall and weighed
one hundred and two pounds, making her figure slim and athletic.  As
mentioned earlier, her breasts were a bit on the small side for a
fifteen year old, but they were well shaped and, of course, supple and
firm.  She had a marvelously flat tummy and a slender waist.  Her
backside was nicely plump, and functionally it provided ample padding
for satisfactory rear entry intercourse.  

Gerri had always been proud of her pert little derriere, but obviously
for other reasons.  Prior to her joining the TYTC Family a year ago
she used to think of it as her "boy magnet", because of the number of
stares she received whenever she passed by a group of eligible young
men, and some not so young.

"I see that you're not wearing your CAP device, Miss Logan.  May I ask
why?"  Andrew said as he took Gerri by the shoulders and stared at her
sternly.  With his eyes he made  an unspoken request of his colleague,
Phil.  

Gerri glanced up somewhat sheepishly at the man she so despised, but
found it difficult to look him directly in the eye.  "I.. I.." she
stammered.  

Meanwhile behind her and just out of her field of vision, Phil quietly
removed a tube of K-Y Jelly from his special standard issue belt pack
and proceeded to lubricate his middle finger.

"Look at me, Miss Logan and answer the question please," Andrew
insisted.  

Gerri jumped slightly when Phil placed a hand onto her hip from
behind.  She glanced quickly over her shoulder in his direction, but
the professional man returned her gaze impassively, giving her no
indication of what he was about to do.

"Look at me, please, Miss Logan," Andrew ordered with more authority.
He took her right nipple between his thumb and index finger and
squeezed, not too hard, but enough to get Gerri's attention.

"Oww!" she whined, looking back in Andrew's direction.

"Answer my question, please, Miss Logan.  Why are you not wearing a
CAP Device?"

One of the things Gerri hated the most about Andrew and the rest of
the TYTC demons was their incessant politeness.  No matter what
atrocity they chose to commit, they went about it with an infuriating
aplomb.  During their gang rapes, for example, which they chose to
refer to as "Group Corrective Opportunities" or "GCO's", they spoke to
her as though she were attending a Sunday brunch.

"V.. Victor, my.. my.. Companion," Gerri began.  She hated to have to
refer to her captor and tormentor as "Companion".  Like everything
else, it gave her imprisonment legitimacy. 

"Yes, Miss Logan," Andrew prompted.  From behind the girl, Phil
nodded.  Andrew didn't acknowledge him, but after giving Gerri's
nipple a playful little squeeze, he moved his hand to her face.  She
shied away at first, then without a word, Andrew placed three fingers
beneath her chin and raised her face up to his.  "Please go on, Miss
Logan," he said.  "Tell us about your Companion."  Andrew peered deep
into her eyes at the very moment that his colleague pushed his
lubricated middle finger into her rectum.

"Mmmuugghh," Gerri grunted, and her brown eyes grew round with
surprise.  

"Silence, Miss Logan!" Andrew snapped.  "I can see that it's been
entirely too long since you last contemplated your physical center.  I
guess we're going to have to put in for some remedial training for
you."

"But," Gerri started to argue, then she groaned miserably when Phil
forced his finger farther up into her anal passage.

"Be still, now, Miss Logan, and let's try to concentrate shall we,"
Andrew said in a casual tone of voice, but one that brooked no
nonsense.  "Look at me, please, and I want you to visualize Phil's
finger.  Picture it sheathed within the confines of your rectal
tissues."  

Gerri did as she was told, for she had little choice.  After all, she
stood naked, sandwiched between two grown men, one of whom had his
finger inserted deeply into her posterior.

"Nnn..mmuuggh," Gerri groaned as Phil delved deeper still.  

Andrew chose not to reprimand the girl this time, for in her
expression he saw the unmistakable look of remorse for having broken
silence again.  Instead he coached her.  "Visualize Phil's presence,
Miss Logan.  Feel him deep inside of you, deep in the very center of
your femininity."

Gerri was utterly mortified as she stood between the two wicked men,
but try as she might, she could not ignore the one man's finger.  Like
all of the TYTC monsters, Phil also seemed to know exactly where to
find the most sensitive places in an already extremely sensitive area
of her anatomy.

After years of research, it was determined that the female of our
species will respond much more readily to suggestion if her mind isn't
cluttered with a lot of inconsequential thoughts.  Early test studies
performed upon numerous subjects revealed that if a young lady is
provided with physical stimulus upon which she can center herself, her
learning potential will be greatly enhanced, by allowing her to focus
her thoughts.

Random vaginal stimulation was the primary technique employed in the
early days of the Center, but it was quickly discovered that a more
sustained approach proved to be far more effective than a program of
intermittent exercises.  Thus was born the early program of Sustained
Vaginal Presence.  Unfortunately there were obvious drawbacks to this
approach in that the vaginal passage was rendered unavailable for
other pursuits.  Something else had to be devised.

The very first attempt at anal presence was so wildly successful that
it surpassed all expectations of the TYTC Research and Development
Team, representing a breakthrough in instruction methodology that was
nothing short of profound in scope.  Not only did the anal passage
prove to be a far more dynamic environment for providing a physical
centering presence, but the additional sense of humiliation that
rectal invasion ingrained in the Guests was immensely valuable in the
process of eroding self-esteem.  At TYTC the old saying goes, that
"The way to a girl's heart and soul is through her rectum."  Today the
program of Continuous Anal Presence or CAP, is the cornerstone of
every young lady's daily life at the Center, constantly reminding her
of her raison d'etre.

"Look at me, and bear down on Phil's finger, Miss Logan," Andrew
coached, lifting her chin and forcing her to gaze into his eyes.  The
Handler smiled condescendingly as he watched Gerri search his face
with her eyes, seeking sympathy perhaps?  Andrew noted  those poignant
reflections of discomfort on her face as his colleague violated her,
and Phil nodded as confirmation when he felt the youngster squeeze his
impaling digit.  A powerful shudder passed through her body, and Gerri
abruptly averted her gaze.

"Look at me, Miss Logan," Andrew quickly reminded her.  He suspected
that the Thelazine was beginning to take effect, gently helping the
girl to "listen" more closely when her body "spoke" to her.  "That's
good," he complimented her when she again raised her eyes to his.  "I
am sure that your Companion treated you fairly, Miss Logan, but there
are certain rules and codes of conduct, if you will, which we at TYTC
believe are indispensable if a young lady is to make a satisfactory
adjustment to life outside of the protective environment provided by
the Center.  And the foundation upon which all of these precepts rests
is the CAP principal."  Andrew took a moment to gaze reflectively into
Gerri's troubled eyes.  "Why just look at yourself, Miss Logan.
Already I can see a marked improvement in your level of concentration
and attentiveness," he said in his usual patronizing manner.  Then to
make matters worse, he reached down casually and placed his hand on
her again.

"Nnnn..." Gerri moaned audibly before she could catch herself, and
even tried to take a step back as she recoiled instinctively from the
man's assault upon her dignity.  Phil anticipated her reaction, and as
Gerri moved her left foot back, he jabbed his finger into her with
renewed authority, effectively thwarting her attempted retreat and
eliciting a soft grunt out of the unhappy girl.

"Silence, Miss Logan," Andrew snapped.  Then using a command tone he
said, "Spread your legs, Miss Logan."

Gerri never ceased to be amazed at the level of control these wicked
men seemed to have over women.  Before she even knew she was doing it,
Gerri moved her feet apart, providing  Andrew with the access he
demanded.

"That's my girl," Andrew said, shifting to his patronizing tone of
voice once again.  "It appears that you have picked up some bad
habits, my dear," he droned on and began to rub her as he spoke.
"We're very pleased that your Companion elected to return you to us
when he did."

"What?" Gerri silently screamed.  "Return me?  What the hell?" Gerri's
mind was in utter turmoil as the full meaning of what she'd heard the
Handler say hit her like a bus.  What it meant, of course, was that
her entire attempted escape had been a setup.  Victor had known all
along.  As Gerri's spirits began to plummet she'd all but forgotten
about the man's hand between her legs which attested to the
effectiveness of the TYTC Program and of its staff.  It was at that
very moment that the full gravity of her situation fell upon Gerri.
She'd been "in house" for more than six hours, but only now was she
really coming to grips with the fact that she was back, and in the
hands of the horrible men in white once again.  And as always, they
wasted no time in casting their spells over her, using her own body
and mind against her to force her to conform to their evil purpose.  

"Well now," Andrew began, jolting Gerri back to reality.  She'd been
so wrapped up in despair that she'd barely noticed that the entire
time his hand had been quite busy between her legs.  "I think Miss
Logan is beginning to come around, Phil."  Andrew gave his colleague a
wink.  "Remember how easy it was to tell with Miss Logan when she was
with us before?"

Suddenly Gerri felt sick.  "Oh no!" she moaned softly, hoping that no
one heard.  Another thing that she'd failed to notice while lost in
dark thoughts was that her face and neck were beginning to feel
flushed and hot.  And as Gerri felt Andrew's fingers move to the area
at the top of her pubic cleft, those old familiar feelings of
helplessness and self-loathing began to resurface.  For Gerri knew
exactly what the man was referring to when he talked about the ease
with which one could tell if she was becoming aroused.  Gerri Logan,
you see was one of those young ladies who is endowed with quite a
sizeable clitoris.  In fact, at full erection the highly sensitive
bundle of nerve endings could grow as large as the tip of an average
man's little finger, and protrude conspicuously from between her
labia.  In fact, Andrew was in the process of coaxing her "little
man", as Gerri called it, "out of his house" at that very moment, and
was being met with success.

"Nnnnn," Gerri groaned in protest, once again forgetting both her
manners and her training.  Additionally, she pinched her legs together
and tried to turn away from Andrew's touch, violating a couple of more
TYTC Standards in the process.  She knew that she would be corrected,
but she simply couldn't help herself.  

There was nothing so diabolical, in Gerri's opinion, as the way that
these despicable men could cause a girl's own body to betray her.  No
rational person would believe that a woman could actually be made to
derive excitement or worse, pleasure from a non-consensual sexual
encounter.  In polite society that offensive concept was thought to be
nothing more than a sick legal tactic used by unscrupulous attorneys
in the defense of rapists and other sexual predators.  Not so at The
Youth Training Center, for their program of systematic indoctrination
and conditioning, somehow achieved on a daily basis that which any
self-respecting woman hated to even think about.

"Be still, Miss Logan!" Andrew scolded as he deftly followed Gerri
when she tried to turn away from him.  The hard nub of the teenager's
substantial clitoris had already begun to protrude from between her
outer lips.  In addition, thanks to the Thelazine, she was
self-lubricating quite nicely, and Andrew was able to use Gerri's own
fluids to aid him in stimulating her, as he skillfully flicked the tip
of his slippery digit rapidly back and forth between her labia majora.
"Spread those legs now, Miss Logan," Andrew said calmly.  Then as
added encouragement he took her swollen clitoris between his thumb and
index finger and started squeezing rhythmically, producing a
distinctly unpleasant sensation in Gerri's belly.  It didn't hurt
exactly.  In fact in a way it almost felt good, but the emotional
impact of being handled in such a manner, was utterly dehumanizing. In
spite of her discomfort, Gerri did as she was told.  She'd learned
that much anyway during her last period in residence.  The TYTC
Handlers were not men to be toyed with.  "Look up at me," Andrew
instructed when he caught her glancing downward.  Dropping his hand
from between her Gerri's legs, the Handler kept his eyes locked on her
hers, noting a distinct change of expression when she heard the
telltale "zip" of his special coveralls.  

Gerri wasn't unaccustomed to being taken against her will.  In fact
she hadn't engaged in a consensual sexual relationship in a very long
time, but to be back at that most hated institution and in the hands
of the very men who had seen fit to forever alter her life, was
nothing short of spiritually crushing for Gerri.  She wanted nothing
more than to lash out at the horrible man who stood almost nose to
nose with her.  Then stepping closer still until he was standing
literally nose to nose with her, he began to hunt between her legs
with the head of his penis, seeking to enter her.  She parted her lips
slightly revealing sparkling white teeth as she felt the heat of him
press against her intimate flesh.  As Gerri obediently maintained eye
contact, Andrew smiled.  He knew exactly what she was thinking.  All
TYTC Handlers spend many hours studying the psychology of
non-consensual sex and breeding as in applies to the human female,
both theoretical and practical.  In addition Andrew had personally
spent a considerable amount of time in the company of a tremendous
number of young Guests over the nearly six years of his employ at the
Center, and was rarely surprised by anything a young lady said or did
while in his care.  Because of this same training Phil also read
Gerri's body language and pushed his finger farther up into her rear
end, reinforcing her position of subjugation.

Andrew made a mental note to mention in the girl's file the loathing
he saw in her expression.  For one who was supposed to have completed
her training months ago, this young lady was surprisingly willful.
There was little doubt therefore, that Miss Gerri Logan suffered from
the EFIRS condition, and that remedial treatment was indeed called
for.  He watched her dark eyes narrow with hatred and revulsion as he
located her vaginal opening.   Then placing his hands onto her shapely
hips, Andrew held Gerri steady while with one fluid motion, he thrust
into her with the just the right amount of authority necessary for an
effective initial penetration.  As he made his way up into her, the
girl's eyes grew wide and staring, and he watched as her nostrils
flare.  Then again forgetting her training, she glanced downward
briefly as his pubic hair mingled with hers.

"Look at me, Miss Logan," Andrew ordered as he pushed upward with his
powerful thighs, raising the young girl up onto the balls of her feet.
"Guests shall maintain direct eye contact with their partner or
partners while being attended to," he quoted the sixth TYTC
Non-Negotiable Standard, as the head of his considerable manhood
pressed firmly against Gerri's cervix.  A shudder passed through her
slender frame as Phil began to move his finger slowly in and out of
her while Andrew held fast for the moment.  

As Gerri looked the Handler in the eye, she tried to concentrate,
knowing that a systematic assault upon her emotional and physical
persona was about to commence.  If only she could maintain some
semblance of composure, perhaps she could thwart their efforts to
enslave her.  She'd done it before, after all.  She'd fooled them all,
and maybe...just maybe...  Gerri tried desperately to redirect her
thoughts to anything other than that which was actually taking place.
She glanced over her attacker's shoulder and up at the clock on the
far wall.  "How long have I been here?" Gerri wondered in an effort to
distract herself.  "Ohhhhh..." she moaned softly as Andrew's sizeable
penis consumed every available cubic centimeter of her vaginal
passage, and again she felt herself propelled up onto the balls of her
feet, lifted upon the head of his engine as it thrust upward against
her cervix.

"Silence, Miss Logan," the Handler reprimanded.  "And kindly pay
attention."  Then to his colleague he commented dryly, "How quickly
they forget."

"I know," Phil agreed.  "And it seems such a shame too.  All that work
and training gone to waste," the man remarked casually as he continued
to delve upward into Gerri's nether passage with his finger.  He
winked at his partner when he felt another shudder pass through the
young girl.

Ever so gradually the dose of Thelazine that Gerri had received about
thirty minutes ago was beginning to get her attention.  Whereas a few
minutes earlier, Gerri might have been successful through shear force
of will in blocking out the sensations produced by the man's finger in
her rear end, for example.  Thanks to Thelazine she was provided with
a much more captivating series of nerve impulses which assaulted her
mind and slowly crowded out rational thought.  

Thelazine is not an aphrodisiac in the true sense.  It has no narcotic
side effects, nor does it dull the senses.  Actually, in layman's
terms, the drug provides a clear conduit, if you will, through which
the natural physiological signals of stimulation and arousal can pass
unhindered on their way to the brain from the various erogenous zones
and reproductive centers of the female anatomy. Thelazine helps a
young lady to "listen" more attentively to what her own body is trying
to tell her by enhancing her natural female messaging system, and by
comparison, attenuating distracting thought patterns such as
inhibition and parental and social conditioning.  The only actual
physical effect the drug provides is to boost the production of
vaginal mucous by the Bartholin's and hymen glands, thereby making a
young lady more physically accommodating.  

As a side note, it was soon discovered by the Handlers of the first
recipients of the marvelous drug, that unknowingly the Guests mistook
this increased production of vaginal lubrication as a sign of
unintentional arousal on their part which of course went a long way
toward helping to erode self-image and willfulness.  Both of which
could be major stumbling blocks along the road to a satisfactory
adjustment to the TYTC Program.

In any case, to Gerri, Phil's finger felt like it extended all the way
up her spine to the nape of her neck.  And as he probed about inside
of her Gerri imagined a plumber's snake writhing in her bowel.  The
only thing that demanded her immediate attention more than Phil's
finger was the seemingly all encompassing preponderance driving at the
very core of her womanhood each time Andrew moved up into her.  More
and more often Gerri had to be reminded to pay attention or to
maintain eye contact or to remain silent as her thoughts gradually
turned inward.  She was becoming what is known in the TYTC circles as
Womb Centered.  Because Andrew's legs were so much longer than
Gerri's, she was practically lifted off her feet with each measured
stroke, such that for brief periods of time she was actually suspended
from her lover's manhood.  In addition to the sensation of supreme
fullness which Gerri experienced with each of his slow, steady forays
into her interior, Andrew held her tightly by her hips effectively
pulling her against himself and pressing her prominent pubic arch
against his belly.  And this of course caused Gerri's distended
clitoris to be crushed each time against the root of Andrew's penis
where it rasped against his thick mat of pubic hair, sending sizzling
sparks of raw carnal energy to every corner of Gerri's being.

Andrew watched her closely.  Although he continued to remind the girl
to look at him during their coupling, he could plainly see that her
dark eyes stared blindly ahead.  Her shoulders and neck were flushed,
and the nipple and small areola at the tip of each breast were drawn
tight and erect.  Another tremor passed through the girl, and Andrew
paused momentarily when he felt a series of vaginal fibrillations
flutter up and down the length of his impaling manhood.  Miss Logan
was very close to climaxing.

Gerri eventually gave up all hope of ignoring or denying the
attentions of the two professional men.  Her heart rate was elevated
and her breathing came in shallow gasps.  She could feel the flush of
heat in her face and neck, and with each thrust of her lover's massive
engine, Gerri moved closer to the precipice.  Then as that telltale
warmth, like wet nuclear fission, began to spread across the top of
her pelvis and down the insides of her thighs, Gerri remembered
thinking as she gazed into the abyss, "They've done it again.  These
wicked, perverted men have forced me somehow to give in to their
loathsome touch."  The last emotion Gerri would feel, however, as she
teetered on the brink of orgasm was shame.  "I guess I'm just weak,"
she scolded herself.  Then her thoughts turned inward as she felt
herself lifted off her feet once again, impaled on Andrew's penis,
frail and helpless.  It occurred to her that lately she'd spent a lot
of time impaled upon one penis or another.  "Perhaps that was to be
her fate," Gerri sighed subconsciously as she embraced the presence of
her lover in her belly.  "So full...so complete," her muzzy thoughts
drifted on a wet satin sea.

Then suddenly, without warning he was gone, leaving Gerri with a
frightening sense of emptiness and abandonment.  The shock of it was
so great, in fact that had the two men not had their hands on her
still, she probably would have fallen for her knees were rubbery and
weak from being so very close to orgasm.  Gerri experienced a mild
sense of panic and disorientation when everything that she'd been
focusing on for what seemed like hours was abruptly taken away.

Andrew had timed his exit perfectly as usual, just as she was about to
climax.  He'd even pushed the envelop a bit by waiting until he felt
the telltale vaginal contractions begin, before abruptly extracting
himself from the girl with a wet, suctioning sound.  Having spent
hours upon hours studying management of female arousal and climax,
Andrew knew precisely what the young Guest was thinking and feeling at
that very moment.  She felt abandoned and alone, not to mention
unfulfilled.  Gerri was at that moment very vulnerable.  

Coitus Interruptus can be a very efficient tool when timed properly,
but in the treatment of EFIRS, or Emotional Free Radical Stimulation,
it is absolutely paramount.  Over the next few months, Miss Gerri
Logan would accommodate many lovers, some mechanical, but most human.
Unlike her previous period in residence, however, the young lady would
very rarely be allowed to achieve orgasm, and then only as a reward
for a significant accomplishment.  Otherwise her day to day encounters
would be consistently unrewarding.

[Author's Note: For more on EFIRS and FRS (Free Radical Stimulation),
its affects and its treatment, kindly refer to Chapter 5 - Trouble in
Paradise.]

Gerri had been so dialed in to Andrew's presence in both her body and
her psyche, that while he was there, she'd scarcely noticed Phil's
contributions.  Such was the beauty of continuous presence.  In a
surprisingly short period of time, most young women will accept it as
a part of themselves.  Remarkably then as Gerri struggled to recover
her equilibrium after Andrew's abandonment, she suddenly became aware
of Phil's finger, and although the thought of what the man was doing
to her was abhorrent to Gerri, the feeling of his being there
represented an anchor point for her.  

"I can see why your Life Companion values your company, Miss Logan,"
Andrew said in a clinical manner.  "You are a talented young woman.
You have reasonably good vaginal control for a girl your age, but you
lack strength in that area.  I dare say that a week or two with the
Coach will get you back into shape, and I'm sure he'll enjoy working
with you again."

Gerri was shocked at first, and her incredulity was plain to see in
her expression, for it had been awhile since someone had talked to her
in such a clinical manner, referring to her body and her intimate
areas as though she were a commodity.  Also his references to the
beast known simply as the Coach made Gerri's blood run cold.  How well
she remembered that perverted old troll and his chamber of horrors.
Those had not been easy times for Gerri.  At least with the men in
white, she thought she had a chance to maybe prey upon their
sympathies, or if all else failed, she could pretend to cooperate
until they were satisfied with her performance.  But strapped
helplessly to one of the Coach's diabolical machines, she could do
nothing more than try to endure.  Gerri shivered at the memory.  

Andrew glanced up at the clock on the wall, and noted the time.  Then
turning back to face the young girl, the Handler said, "Your
appointment with the Headmaster is in one hour, Miss Logan, so rather
than waste your time and mine, I propose we get a few chores out of
the way."  Andrew smiled at her expression of suspicion.  After making
another of his practiced eye contacts with Phil, Andrew said in a
conversational tone of voice, "Let's have a look at those breasts of
yours, my dear."  Then as casually as though he were shaking hands
with her, Andrew reached out and took Gerri's right breast by the
nipple.  He felt the girl instinctively start to pull away from him,
so he held on tightly to the sensitive nubbin of flesh.  "Look at me,
Miss Logan," he said curtly.  "And stand still please."

"You disgusting pervert!" Gerri hissed under her breath.  She just
couldn't help herself.  The way the man smiled at her so smugly as he
went about hefting first one breast and then the other like she was a
cow or something.  Gerri expected some sort of reprisal for her wanton
transgression, but she hardly expected what happened next.  

It began when Phil unexpectedly removed his finger from her back side
where it had been for the past half hour or so.  After glancing back
at Phil momentarily, Gerri looked up at the loathsome Andrew with a
questioning expression on her pretty face.  It felt kinda funny to be
suddenly empty in both passages.  Gerri knew that something bad was
about to happen, but she had no idea what.  She didn't have to wait
long.

Phil decided to forgo the K-Y jelly this time, figuring there was
enough residue left inside the girl to facilitate him.  So no sooner
did she turned back toward Andrew, than Phil jammed his thumb up her
tight little ass, and none too gently either, causing Gerri to grunt
viscerally.

"Silence, Miss Logan!" she heard Andrew bark.  

Then deftly Phil rotated his hand between the teenager's legs, and
with his two middle fingers he entered her vaginally.  Phil smiled
when once again the girl grunted in surprise, and was instantly
reprimanded by Andrew.  He then brought his thumb and two fingers
together inside of her, grasping the young lady in the classic
"bowling ball" grip.  He felt the muscles in both her passages flex
around his hand, testing the waters.  Happy to oblige, Phil
demonstrated what would happen if there were any further outbursts.
Pinching his thumb in one opening between his two middle fingers in
the other, Phil brought pressure to bear upon the sensitive internal
linings and musculature that separated her two abdominal passages. The
results were as stunning as they were immediate.  Phil had sat through
enough lectures and seminars having to do with the female reproductive
anatomy to know that to the headstrong teenager his actions were like
a punch in the gut from the inside.  In fact, if Phil hadn't
maintained his grip on the girl between her trembling thighs, and if
Andrew hadn't reacted quickly and grabbed her under her arms, she
would have gone down.

Gerri clung desperately to the strong arms of the man she despised so
and fought to catch her breath.  She was mildly nauseated and felt a
cold sweat forming on her forehead and shoulders.  Gerri remained
silent though, praying that whatever it was the other man had done to
her down there would not be repeated.  Suddenly she felt his fingers
shift inside of her, and she braced herself for another blow.  For
that is precisely what it had felt like.  When nothing happened, Gerri
relaxed ever so slightly, and then as the rubber in her knees started
to go away, she regained her feet and let go of Andrew's shoulders.
She was very conscious, however of the man's hand between her thighs
and the feel of fingers inside of her.  Gerri decided that perhaps
she'd better cooperate for the time being.

"OK," Andrew went on as though nothing at all had happened.  "Let's
have a look at these."

Gerri hadn't felt so humiliated in a long time as the Handler began to
examine her breasts.  He squeezed and poked and pinched until Gerri
thought she would die.  Then grasping her by the right nipple, he
shook the breast rapidly and then released it, observing how quickly
the firm little cone came to rest, and then he repeated the procedure
with the other breast.

"Very well," Andrew muttered thoughtfully as he opened a covered metal
clipboard that contained all of Gerri's personal files.  After jotting
a few notes inside he commented, "Judging from these photographs taken
during your last stay with us, Miss Logan, you have indeed grown a
bit, though not an exceptional amount."

Gerri hated her tits and had always wished they were bigger, and it
made her feel even worse about herself to have the man confirm her own
beliefs.

"I suspect that Breast FRS won't be a problem for you, young lady, but
one can't be too careful.  I think we had better run a couple of tests
in any case, just to be on the safe side."  Then as Andrew laid his
clipboard on the exam table he added, "Besides, I think Phil might
enjoy getting to know you a little better."  Turning to his colleague
Andrew asked him with a smile, "Phil, did you ever get the chance to
spend some quality time with Miss Logan during her last visit?"  

Phil looked up from beside Gerri's left hip and shook his head, and as
he did, he pushed his thumb farther up into her rectum.  He felt her
clamp down on him, but she didn't make a peep.  Phil smiled.

"Good.  Well that's all settled then," Andrew said happily.  "Phil,
you can provide the motivating force, and I'll take the necessary
measurements.  Let's see now.  Miss Logan why don't you step right
over here," Andrew said.  Then when he saw the confused look on the
girl's face, he said apologetically, "Oops!  I almost forgot.  Phil,
you can let go of Miss Logan for the time being.  She appears to be
behaving herself," he said, glancing in Gerri's direction in time to
see the hostile look she gave him.  "This way, if you please, Miss
Logan."  Andrew then took her by the elbow and escorted her to the end
of the padded exam table.  With a soft electrical hum a section of the
table end began to lower when the Handler stepped on one of many foot
pedals at its base.  "That should do nicely," Andrew said once he was
satisfied with the table's configuration.  Then turning to Gerri he
spoke to her as though this was all in a day's work.  

"Alright, Miss Logan.  Bend at the waist, hands on the lower part of
the table.  Feet apart, knees straight, head up and arch your back.
You remember the exercise.  Service Position One, Standing, Miss
Logan."  Andrew spoke like a drill sergeant.  

"But," Gerri tried to argue, and received another reprimand. Meanwhile
Phil stepped up beside her.

"Service Position One, Miss Logan," he barked, repeating his
colleague's recent order.  Then when Gerri hesitated he added.  "We
can do this the hard way if you wish, young lady."  

The look that Phil gave her made Gerri want to shrink away from him,
but there was nowhere for her to go.  Naked and alone, locked away in
an asylum filled with mad men and monsters, Gerri had very few
options.  After glancing quickly in Phil's direction when she heard
that telltale "zip", Gerri reluctantly bent over and placed her hands
palms down on the lower section of the table.  She flinched when she
felt a hand on her right hip.

"Feet apart," Phil ordered from behind her, then kicked at Gerri's
ankles.  Fortunately he was wearing soft sole shoes.  

Gerri was afraid of Phil.  He seemed mean, and the fact  that he would
soon be her lover and that there would be nothing she could do to
prevent it made Gerri feel sick to her stomach.

"Legs straight and arch your back," the man ordered and held Gerri
with one hand on her hip while he placed the head of his foul penis
between her rounded buttocks.  "Bow those shoulders forward, young
lady, and look back at me this instant!" Phil commanded.

Gerri shuddered when she felt him begin to hunt for her opening.  She
hadn't gotten the opportunity to actually see what she was about to
receive, but judging from the feel of the man as he pressed himself
against her tender tissues, Gerri suspected she was in for a tough
time.  Dutifully she looked back at him over her left shoulder and was
barely able to suppress an audible groan when he entered her.

"That's my girl," Phil smiled at the distressed look on the girl's
face.  Then he thrust into her in one swift motion.

Gerri had learned from her previous stay at TYTC that all the Handlers
did it just that way.  Foreplay was considered bad form, at least on
the part of the male, and as the air rushed from her lungs in response
to Phil's rapid advance into her interior, Gerri recalled being told
once why that was.  It had something to do with psychology and
submission.  "Hell everything in this repulsive place had to do with
psychology and submission," Gerri thought as she felt the man's cock
bull its way into her deepest depths.  Forgetting her training, Gerri
looked away and lowered her head between her arms, as her lover used
her hips to pull her backward onto himself even farther.  It was
indeed psychology, for as the bulbous head of Phil's vile member
entered her fornix area, Gerri groaned softly.  There was little doubt
in her mind that she had been taken fully and completely and against
her will.  And as if to confirm that belief, Phil barked, "Head up,
young lady, and arch that back!"  Then turning to his colleague, he
said in a conversational tone, "We're all ready here, Andrew."

"Very well then," Andrew said, kneeling beside Gerri.  He held a stop
watch in one hand.  Reaching under her with his free hand, he prodded
one of Gerri's breasts and then the other, timing each to see how long
it took to stop quivering.  He needed a benchmark.  "This test is
probably unnecessary," he said to Gerri when he caught her eye.  "It's
really designed for women with more pendulous breasts," he explained.
"But since you and Phil are all set to go, we'll go ahead with it.
That way you'll know what to expect when we measure nipple travel in
the next test."  

Gerri looked at him and remained silent.  If the truth be known, she
felt like crying, or screaming at the top of her lungs, but the last
time she was here Gerri had seen first hand the consequences that sort
of behavior brought upon the transgressor.  Crying was never
tolerated, and even speaking was tightly controlled.  The Guests of
The Youth Training Center were expected to abide by eight simple
rules.  Non-Negotiable Standards they were called, and the
consequences for violating any of the standards were swift and sure
and always meted out in the form of some kind of sexual activity.  The
new girls tended to cry a lot a first, especially the young ones, but
very quickly they found themselves too busy to breathe, let alone cry.

Still half lost in a daydream, Gerri heard Andrew say, "OK, Phil. Give
her ten, please."  

"What the...?" Gerri thought as she felt the man standing behind her
move slightly inside of her as he squared his shoulders.  The last
thing she remembered before the barrage started was Phil's fingers
bighting into the tender flesh of her hips as he got a better grip on
her.  Gerri would have bruises there for a week.  But right now,
bruises were the very last thing on her mind as she stood bent over
and gasping for air.  If Phil hadn't been holding her so tightly,
Gerri surely would have been pitched forward onto he face, so powerful
were the ten rapid fire thrusts the man had just delivered.  Vaguely
she recalled hearing the loud slapping reports caused by Phil's hairy
thighs hammering against her soft buttocks.  How she'd managed to
remain quiet, she would never know.

"Ten more, please, Phil," Andrew said and started his watch.

Gerri's bladder let go about half way through the second series.  To
her it felt like someone was attempting to rearrange her abdominal
organs by shoving a baseball bat up her rear end.  

During the third and hopefully the final set of thrusts, time slowed
to a crawl.  Out of the corner of her eye, Gerri saw Andrew staring up
under her torso, observing her small breasts as they jiggled and
jumped from the rapid set of concussive thrusts.  

"Alright, Phil, that should do," Andrew told his colleague, and just
in the nick of time too, because Gerri doubted very seriously if she
could have sustained any more of the man's attention.  As it was, she
would be very sore for days.

"As I suspected, the test data is more or less inconclusive
unfortunately," Andrew told Phil as the man eased his way back into
Gerri and held fast.  "Her breasts are simply too small to cause any
oscillation problems other than actual impact reaction," the Handler
concluded.  He was of course referring to rapid jerking motion he'd
noted in Gerri's breasts each time Phil slammed into her rear.  This
kind of motion is usually unavoidable, but in practice most Handlers
deliver thrusts to their young partners according to proven
guidelines, dealing with frequency and thrust power.  Each and every
TYTC Handler undergoes hours of training in the field of Arousal and
Climax Management, or ACM for short.  Thanks to this specialized
training most breast related FRS remains manageable, however, there
will always be the exception to the rule.  Especially after the recent
recall scare and its associated logistics problems, every Guest is now
tested and cataloged both for breast sway and nipple travel.

"Mind if I go change?" Phil asked with a little smile, glancing down
at his urine soaked coveralls.  "When we're finished here, I have to
get up to receiving and probably won't get the chance later."

"Not at all, my friend.  Go right ahead," Andrew replied.  "Just let
me grab my slides here and I'll stay with Miss Logan for you until you
get back."

As though the switch were rehearsed, Phil waited until Andrew fetched
a small black case from the lab bench nearby before he slowly pulled
out of her.  Then almost like a dance where one man cuts in on
another, Gerri suddenly had a new dance partner.

"Just relax, Miss Logan," Andrew murmured as he slid effortlessly into
her.  "Just think of me as a "place holder," he chuckled.  Then taking
her by her right hip, Andrew added, "Now I want you to hold very
still, my dear.  Since you got Phil all wet, I'm going to have to fill
in for him for a minute, and in the meantime, I need to get these
slides ready."  With that, he laid the small case onto Gerri's back,
using her as a table while he prepared for the next test.

Approximately ten minutes passed until the door hissed open and in
walked Phil wearing a fresh pair of glowing white coveralls.  "OK,
let's get going here before we run out of time," Andrew insisted."  He
and Phil swapped places again and Gerri once again found herself
gripping the sides of the exam table while Phil shifted his hips in
order to get as much penetration as possible.  Gerri shuddered again
when he pressed against her cervix, reacting to the Thelazine enhanced
feelings of total consumption.  

Andrew made the final preparations, dusting two eight inch square
glass slides with a fine yellow powder.  Placing the slides onto the
edge of the exam table, Andrew turned to Phil and said, "OK, Phil.  We
need a nice steady thrust pattern, nothing fancy.  All we need to do
is to get her moving so I can get a nipple travel pattern on the
slides.  We'll start with the right breast."

"W..wait," Gerri whimpered as Phil began to move.

"Silence, Miss Logan!" Phil ordered.  "Get your head up, and let's
concentrate, shall we.  This isn't a love in."  And with that he began
a slow and purposeful motion.  

Having lived with him for nearly a year now, Gerri had grown
accustomed to Victor's lackluster style of love making.  Often as not
he would tire quickly, and on those rare occasions where Gerri thought
her Companion might actually be capable of going the distance, Gerri
would attempt to gain control over the coupling and cause him to
ejaculate prematurely.  So, although she was expected to put out for
Victor practically every day it  was routinely done on her terms.  

Not so with this man, Gerri realized as another shudder wracked her
slender frame.  It was as though she could feel every inch of him as
he traversed steadily in and out, in and out, never varying his
cadence by even a half second.  After a couple of minutes, Phil took
the liberty of inserting is middle finger back into Gerri's rear end,
and once again the headstrong teenager was complete, by the TYTC
definition, anyway.

Andrew stood nearby scribbling notes on his clipboard, but wasn't
really paying much attention to the loving couple for the moment.  He
wanted to give them time to get warmed up and working as a team,
before he began the data collection process.  After about ten minutes,
Andrew picked up the first slide and knelt beside the young teenager.
She was showing signs of arousal already, thanks to the Thelazine,
Andrew noted.  "Miss Logan, I expect for you to keep your head up and
your back arched for me for just a couple of minutes longer.  Will you
do that for me, please."  She didn't answer, but Andrew watched as she
increased the arch in her strong back, thereby aligning her vaginal
passage to better accept complete penetration.  

Phil was a true professional and continued to deliver steady measured
strokes to Gerri as the minutes passed.  All he required to maintain
control over the girl was a hand resting lightly on her left hip. When
he deemed the time was right, Andrew reached beneath Gerri's torso and
raised the glass slide up under her right breast until just the very
tip of her erect little nipple touched the surface of the glass.  She
started at first when her sensitive flesh contacted the cold slide,
but Andrew had anticipated that and dropped the slide away for a
moment.  "Head up, shoulders forward," Miss Logan," he reminded the
girl as he moved the slide beneath her breast again.  Then for several
stroke cycles, Andrew held the slide in place, allowing Gerri's nipple
to trace a pattern in the yellow dust.  That was really all there was
to it.  After repeating the procedure with her left breast, he let
Phil finish up with her while he went about locking the slides away
for safe keeping.  Later they would be scanned into a computer and the
nipple patterns that were unique to Miss Gerri Logan alone would
become a part of her permanent record at the Center.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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