# Chapter Twenty Four: Detention

Author: | Gospodin

Marie made it back into the classroom before second bell, and flushed with embarassment as she was made to grab her ankles and have the plug removed in front of the whole class. Her "hall pass" was disassembled and the intruding part was dropped into a special bin for cleaning.

Marie sat down, still feeling stretched, and thought dreamily about Angelica and the orderly while the teacher demonstrated corset lacing techniques on the front-row students. Time passed quickly, and soon the school day was over. The girls all stood up and headed for the door, gossipping and chattering.

"Hey girl, you got time to hit the arcade?" Kusako bounced on her toes.

Marie looked over at the teacher and frowned, "No, sorry. I'd love to, but I have an hour of detention first."

Kusako glanced at the schoolmarm nervously from the corner of her eye, "Oh you poor dear. Well, I'll wait for you outside in one hour. Deal?"

Marie smiled, "I'll see you outside."

Kusako grabbed Marie in a bear-hug, squeezing her tightly enough that both girls' nipple jewelry could be felt through the material of their shirts. She kissed Marie sweetly on the lips, flicked Marie's septum ring playfully with her tongue, and skipped out of the room.

Marie sighed and looked over at the smirking teacher who sat arrogantly on her oak desk. The woman's legs were crossed, and she idly tapped a metal-edged ruler against the palm of her hand. Melody was already kneeling beside her in a position that Marie remembered seeing in her textbook: knees at 90 degrees, hands grasping elbows behind her back, and her chin to her chest. Gulping quietly, Marie rushed to kneel beside the chastised bully.

"Slaves Marie and Melody, you have each earned one hour's detention for engaging in unauthorized pleasuring... Slave Melody!"

"Yes ma'am!" Melody blurted in startled reply.

"Slave Melody, since your pussy is so hungry for stimulation, you will spend your hour on the doghouse!" The teacher slapped her palm with the ruler for emphasis.

Melody looked up suddenly in horror, but caught the schoolmarm's glare and quickly averted her eyes back down to the woman's shoes.

"Slave Marie!" the teacher barked.

"Y-yes ma'am?"

"Slave Marie, since your tongue is so eager to explore, you will spend your hour exercising it for me. Both of you! On your feet!"

Marie reached to the floor to help herself to her feet, but saw that Melody had risen in a single fluid motion without letting go of her elbows. The teacher waved her over to a closet door in the corner of the room and began to unfold a black latex garment on the desk.

Marie stood watching as she saw what looked like a hood built into a pair of hotpants. No explanation was given, however, as the teacher pulled off Marie's wig and began to unroll the slick sheath around her head. Blackness engulfed her, and she held her breath until she felt air through the mass of rubber at her lips.

When her eyes found their holes, Marie noticed that Melody had removed her shoes and was kneeling in front of what looked like a doghouse on a wheeled platform. Two stirrups with ratcheting cuffs hung from the eaves of the gabled roof, and a pair of hinged handcuffs dangled from a chain in the back.

Satisfied that the hood was seated, its peculiar mass of dangling rubber giving Marie a strange walrus look, the teacher ordered Melody to begin. The quivering schoolgirl rose to her feet and reached over to the doghouse, slipping one latex-clad foot into a stirrup before slowly straddling the gabled peak. Reaching to either side, Melody ratcheted the cuffs closed around her ankles, toes barely touching the supporting straps. Leaning back with an audible grimace, she grabbed the handcuffs and squeezed them closed on her own wrists, shifting forward again until her arms pulled back diagonally.

Marie was so entranced, watching the girl who had bullied her submit so passively, that she did not notice the hinged cuffs being snapped around her own wrists until the teacher wrenched her wrists up to double-lock them.

"Soon, Slave! But first we must start the clock!"

With that, the teacher held up a large brass alarm clock on a chain. Strutting over to Melody, she unbuttoned the girl's blouse and teased out her breasts, the pierced nipples erect. The woman let the clock hang from the thin chain, revealing that it split into a "Y" shape ending in two clover clamps.

Melody squealed in her throat as the clamps were attached behind her piercings, and the clock allowed to dangle its weight from her nipples. She immediately rocked forward until the weight of the clock was at least partially resting on the peak of the doghouse roof, but the clamps clearly still held her attention.

Marie once more lost track of her teacher, awakened by the snap of a ruler against her thigh. Spinning around, she saw that the woman had peeled her pencil skirt up over her hips somehow, and was gesturing for Marie to kneel.

Obediently, Marie lowered herself to her knees on the hard floor, and was surprised to see the teacher pulling open the drooping part of her hood and climbing in. A little lubing and wriggling later, and Marie found herself unavoidably buried in the schoolmarm's snatch.

Struggling a little in surprise, Marie felt the latex skirt roll back down over the woman's thighs, darkening her world and holding her tighter. The snaps at the back were unfastened to loosen the skirt, but it still clung fast as the teacher sat back onto the edge of her seat.

After a little shifting, Marie quickly realized that she was running out of air. Struggling in panic, she pushed her face forward and felt a rewarding puff against her lips. Experimenting, she reached out with her tongue and found that if she pressed against the membrane before her, it would spread the slits around the mouthpiece of her hood.

Feeling an approving pat on her head, Marie groaned with the realization that she was going to have to reach out her tongue and eat this woman out for the better part of an hour if she wanted to breathe. Wincing in her world of rubber womanhood, she set to licking.

"I expect an orgasm at least every ten minutes," Marie heard muffled through the material of the skirt, "so you'd better get to work."

She did so. She soon found herself gulping short, shallow breaths as she shoved her tongue into the woman, pulled back with her hood, then snapped her head forward to mash her lips into her teacher with a quick exhalation. She was light headed, losing track of time, and nearly lost it when she felt the thighs on either side of her head squeeze together.

The dignified keening noise outside her rubber cave told her that she was close to bringing the woman off, and with her head held firmly she was not going to be able to open the air slits again. Furiously she worked her tongue against the teacher's clitoris, flicking and tracing circles and gasping in the rubber sheath around it.

As the darkness became lit with stars and flares, the legs finally slumped to either side of her and the teacher relaxed in the afterglow. Her senses returning, Marie could hear moaning from Melody's direction, the alarm clock clunking against something wooden. Marie had little to occupy herself, so she tried to imagine what Melody was going through.

The clock, obviously, would cause her to lean forward as far as possible to relieve her nipples. But doing so would put strain on the shoulders. As Marie thought, she realized that it would also probably put weight on her clitoris, which would become quite painful over time. At some point it would be worthwhile to endure sore nipples to relieve her nub, and then after a while her anus and nipples would need relief.

Marie imagined the situation as vividly as she could, trying to determine what the best way to sit would be. But all the solutions she came up with involved having her ankles free so that she could use her knees to support herself.

After a long period of musing, her short breath hissing through the rubber mask as she licked and kissed the latex-clad pussy, the absurdity of the situation hit her. Here she was, her jaw and tongue aching, her head swimming from lack of oxygen, suffering a relatively mild punishment, and she was imagining herself away to a worse fate. She shook her head within the confines of the teacher's leg-vise, and felt the woman shudder and clamp down again.

As the air cut off, and the sparkling lights flashed before her eyes again, Marie realized that the image of herself mounted on the doghouse was not simply an idle possibility. It was a matter of time, a question of "when" rather than "if". One of these days she'd be up there, a triangle of wood pressing against her slit and creating increasing levels of pain.

The stars cleared, the woman slumped, and Marie began gasping in short gusts of breath. Her invisible world reeled and spun. The hood grew hot with embarassed flush as Marie realized that she was trickling between her own legs. Still her ordeal continued.

She heard sounds, squeaking, pulleys, moans. She heard footsteps on wood, footsteps on stone. Suddenly her hood was ripped off and she found herself straddling a wooden doghouse, her cuffs anchored to its roof, her ankles cuffed toward the ground and pulled taut like tent cables. Each motion was met with opposing tension as her struggles worked a giant frame about her that powered electric fields pin-prickling every inch of skin she had. She rocked slowly to even the pressure between her legs as her tongue worked in and out of her mouth to lick as much air as she was allowed from the surrounding courtyard.

Nobles milled about, looking at displays of slavery and punishment arranged in a circle. Women pulled like taffy and skewered like marshmallows. Each one stuffed, whipped, pinched, fucked, and suffocated. Marie watched them all, aroused beyond description by the cacophony of punishment.

The whip of time lashed forward, lurching the world to the crucial moment. Marie bucked and rode her wooden horse and called out a name in a language she had never heard. Before her stood a tall woman in imperially high boots, lush cape, strict corset, and fearsome mask. Marie saw that she was looking her Mistress right in the bottomless black depths of her eyes. She wanted to be swallowed up by them, knowing that to dissolve in that love would be more exquisitely painful than any punishment, and worth every scream.

> Do you serve me, slave?

"Oh yes, Mistress!" Marie moaned, her voice far away and muffled.

> Your devotion, your obedience, your submission... they give me strength. The further you submit, the stronger I am to you. You are almost ready to meet me, and when you do you will be prepared to lay down your life at my feet.

Marie kept tongue-lashing the thin air before her face, the mask warping before her as her Mistress's words splashed into her like surf on dry sand.

> You have a while yet before you will be ready, however. But already you summon me to punish you. You are such a good slave, little one. You were born to the role!

> And now, your reward...

The towering figure before Marie reached a silver gauntlet of flamboyant claw-rings and peeled back the mask. Marie gasped, her lips puckering as a gigantic rubber pubis emerged on the woman's head. The vertical labia majora and minora breathed and oozed juices as the clitoris throbbed like a third eye.

The grotesque black rubber pussy leaned forward and pressed itself into Marie's face, planting a long heavy kiss that swallowed her whole. As she felt herself fading into total darkness, she understood that her Mistress would be her only source of strength. Marie knew that she was meant to give all that she had over to her Mistress and protector. This was what her whole life had been for.

The torture, the licking, the squicking, all vanished to black. Suddenly she wrinkled her nose and coughed, jolting up as a pungent smell filled her nostrils. The teacher capped the jar of smelling salts and put them back in the classroom's first aid kit. Marie realized that she was lying on her back, hands still cuffed behind her, but that her hood was no longer on. She could feel the draft flow over her bald head, chilling her.

She scrambled to her knees, the slickness of her juices spreading between her thighs. Red-faced, she dropped her chin to her chest and waited for whatever would come next.

"You did well enough, Slave Marie. Number ten was a bit much for you, it seems, and you passed out. You're finished five minutes early, so you will now help me with Slave Melody."

Marie looked up, remembering that Melody was still on the doghouse. The girl was still trying to glare at Marie, but much of the fight had gone out of her. Marie saw just a hint of the glassy-eyed resignation of a slave who knows her place.

The teacher uncuffed Marie and returned her pigtailed wig. Together the teacher and slave waited for the alarm clock to ring, surprising Melody as the vibrations translated through to her sore nipples. The two women unlocked the slave's cuffs and helped her off the device and into a seat.

"Slave Marie, you will be free to leave in a moment, but first you will return the doghouse to the storage room and bring out Memory Exercise 1 and the box marked 'TENS'."

Marie curtseyed, lifting her skirt to expose her dripping slit as she had seen others do, and walked over to return Melody's torture device to storage. As she walked it in, the realization of what she was asked to do must have hit Melody.

"Nooooo... Why? Why? Aren't I done?" the broken bully whimpered.

"My my, Slave Melody! You do have a terrible memory. It is a good thing we have half an hour left for you to work on it. Do you not remember earning extra detention for listening and memory problems?"

Marie found the boxes she had been sent for, and by the time she returned, Melody had grimly accepted her fate. Marie set the boxes on the teacher's desk just as the exhausted Melody had been firmly strapped and locked into a desk at the front row.

The teacher pulled out a pair of metal probes from the TENS box, smeared some sort of gel over them, and inserted them into Melody through the holes in her chair. Wires went from the plugs over to a strange control box, and more wires came out connected to clamps which the teacher slipped onto Melody's nipples. Finally, a single control wire was patched into the box and fed into the "Memory Exercise 1" system, which seemed to be a simple electronic color-and-sound memory game.

Marie remembered playing with a similar toy as a child. The device was simply a disc divided into four buttons of different colors. As each button lit up in sequence, a tone was played. When the player successfully pressed the buttons in the correct sequence, the machine would add one more tone to the sequence and play it again. Remembering long sequences of colors/tones got harder and harder, and Marie never remembered if there was any way to conclusively win the game.

Melody hung her head, waiting for the system to be set up, her one free hand sitting next to the game.

"Let me see now, Slave Melody..." The teacher consulted a chart in her gradebook. "Ah, yes. You have endured as high as level 8 it says." With that she turned a dial on the electrical output control box to 8.

Marie saw Melody twitch visibly as the device turned on and set itself. A single red button flashed, and Melody waited two seconds before pressing it. The red button flashed, followed by a green button with a higher tone, and Melody slowly and methodically pressed red and green in sequence.

Marie wanted to leave, but she was fascinated, watching Melody's progress. She did not have long to wait, as melody lost on the ninth entry in the sequence. As it flashed all four lights in a loud buzz, the control box also flashed, and melody shook violently in her bonds, a moan of pain grinding from her exhausted throat.

"She plays to stall," the teacher said to Marie. "The game is set to simply trigger a loss after two seconds of not pressing anything, and it's simply too difficult to remember long sequences when they take half a minute."

Marie and the teacher watched Melody reach 15 notes in the sequence before getting shocked again.

"I think that her stamina is much improved since the last session." The teacher noted. "Slave Marie, turn the electrical output to 9."

Marie stepped forward, but caught Melody's gaze. Melody's eyes spat daggers at Marie, and held her rooted to the spot. Marie knew she couldn't disobey the teacher's orders, but she lacked the strength to resist Melody after her own ordeal between the schoolmarm's legs.

But as Melody held her in a stare, Marie saw a silver gauntletted hand reach from behind her and turn the dial to nine. Marie's heart stopped, the sight of her Mistress's arm causing her breath to catch. When the hand disappeared from view, Melody's game signaled her loss, and the spell was broken with a high-pitched scream.

Marie spun around, seeing no one behind her, and only the teacher off to her left, sitting on the old oak desk. The woman smiled arrogantly at Marie, and then pulled out a black leather object.

"Of course," the teacher noted, handing the item to Marie, "the goal of this exercise is to improve your listening skills, Slave Melody. Slave Marie, blindfold her!"

Marie walked behind the girl and slipped the two round pads over her eyes. As she did so, Melody cursed her under her breath, promising worse fates than she had ever known. But the sight of the dial at nine and the apparition of her Mistress lurked at the corners of her mind and gave her the strength to buckle the blindfold and step back.

Melody's scores took a nose-dive, fumbling to remember the locations of notes. She lost at three, two, and five notes before getting the rhythm back and working her way back up into the double-digits.

The teacher sashayed over to Marie and took her by the necktie-leash. She led Marie out into the hallway, fussing with her uniform and straightening her wig out.

"I just wanted to tell you that I understand that you are at a new school and things will take some getting used to. Just know that your obedience in helping me discipline Slave Melody will be noted favorably on your record. Also know that when you are given the memory exercises, we will be just as strict with you as you were with Melody."

A smirk crossed the woman's face. "A pity you're not on the block, Slave Marie. I could use a tongue like yours at home. Perhaps we can come to some sort of... extra credit arrangement." The woman caressed Marie's cheek, slipping her thumb between the girl's lips and massaging her tongue gently. "I know how hard it can be to keep good grades when you come late in the year, and those bad grades stay on your Permanent Record for the rest of your life."

With that, the teacher patted Marie on the rear and strutted back into the classroom, cooing out insincere encouragement as Melody reached a 17-note sequence before throwing herself into a sobbing barking fit.

Marie took five deep breaths, and walked out into the courtyard. Kusako sat on a bench, busy highlighting selections from a Gor novel, and checking page numbers against a printed course syllabus. When she saw Marie stumbling out, she set her study materials down and ran to hug her.

"Oh Marie, you poor thing! I heard the screams. Can you sit?"

Marie was confused for a moment, but then shook her head. "Oh, I'm fine. It was just an hour of eating out the teacher in some sort of.. hood... panties... thing... I just need to rest my tongue a little."

"Uh-oh." Kusako frowned, "Better take care that the teacher doesn't take too much of a liking to you. She might keep you for extra study, and that's usually just a way for you to make more mistakes." She looked up and saw the teacher watching the pair from the classroom window. She scowled and picked up her things.

"Come on Marie, you can come over to my place tonight. My Master is a real sweetheart, and we can play video games and just have girl talk, ya know? C'mon, it'll be fun! If your Mistress gives permission, you could even sleep over!"

Marie smiled as much as her sore mouth would allow. "I'd like that. Do you have a phone?"

"There's a booth over behind the toolshed. I'll just wait here for a while--I have lots of homework to do anyway."

Marie rounded the shed and found herself in a short alley ending in an old telephone booth. Sliding the doors closed, she lifted the receiver and tried to find the buttons or dialing mechanism.

"Number please!" a voice chirped on the other end of the line.

Marie gave Angelica's cell phone number.

"This call requires five lashes for the first minute, and two for each additional minute. Do you accept the charges?"

Marie, confused, accepted.

"Lift or lower your skirt to expose an area between waist and knees. Signal when ready."

Marie looked around, confused, and then pulled up her skirt, mumbling into the phone. A wheel beneath the phone began to spin, and a single leather strap attached to it swung out and smacked into the side of Marie's thigh, wrapping around behind her. She yelped as it struck and then slid as the wheel spun, crying out another four times as the spanking device continued its assigned number of strokes.

"Thank you. Connecting..."

Marie reached Angelica with no trouble, though she was still in the office and spoke in veiled references. When at one minute the operator interrupted to extract another minute's fee from Marie, Angelica began to stall and prolong the conversation. After five such intervals, it was agreed that Marie would stay over at Kusako's house that night in exchange for extra weekend assignments.

After Angelica hung up, though, Marie heard the operator return. Her voice seemed somehow different, and she spoke a word that Marie could not understand. The syllables passed through her mind and left no impression, but seemed to clean her thoughts and leave her fresh and relaxed. Her world flooded white, and the receiver dropped to the end of its cord.

Marie slipped into subspace, but found it empty.

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