THE SEARCHER / CAMP OF ANGELS - PART 4
CHAPTER 6
After their sweating toils on the railway since early morning the weary
Angels had to march back naked to the camp carrying their pristine dresses high
above their heads on straight arms. There they welcomed the opportunity to
refresh themselves under warm showers before thankfully donning their dresses
for another plain but nourishing meal. They were told that for the afternoon
they would be kept in the same teams as for the morning labours - for what Miss
Mitzie called 'Love Lessons.'
All of the trainers were in attendance, including also Mrs Leilla and
one of the Chinese office staff who had untied them on arrival. Rosemary gave a
muted sigh of relief when Miss Wang went with another group and Mrs Leilla
ambled to their Blue Team.
"Some of you already know Mrs Leilla, but those who don't need only be
aware that you treat her with the respect and obedience you would accord me -or
you answer to me." Miss Mitzie ended her lecture and left with another group.
"Good afternoon Angels," the Arab woman positively purred grace and
sensuality. "You are looking very attractive in your dresses, even you
Michelle," her face twitched into a wry grin. "However, to learn about sex and
pleasing others one needs no such encumbrance; you'll thus all shortly undress.
Firstly, each hold out your left hand please."
Now gone, or maybe she ever existed, was the friendly woman who had met
Rosemary in the civilised surroundings of the airport. In her place was someone
who found it quite normal to control and train six 'slaves.' And Mrs Leilla
made it quite clear that she would beat them with the belt she had removed from
her elegant suit if they were not totally obedient and respectful. They
each had to hold out their quivering hands like schoolchildren to receive a lash
from that strap as a little demonstration that she would countenance no trouble
from her attentive troupe.
"Here's yours Poppet," Mrs Leilla smiled into Rosemary's wincing eyes as
her belt flashed down to leave a stinging aftermath of pain. When finished, she
again stood before the line, seeming to relish their winces as they rubbed their
hands. "Today you will be shown and will demonstrate to me various stages of
seduction."
They were divided into pairs under the hot and watchful eyes of their
elegant teacher. Her face flushing, Rosemary knew that things which would
normally be conducted in privacy, as a matter of choice between a man and a
woman, would now be on public display and scrutiny. The acts would be drawn
clinically into the harsh light of day. And they would, she guessed, have to be
practised mainly woman to woman.
"Sexual contact and consummation is the end result," Mrs Leilla
lectured; "firstly comes the seduction. Now into pairs please," she directed
them whilst switching on gentle background music from hidden speakers.
Rosemary considered herself fortunate to at least be with a member of
the opposite sex. Like the other couples, she and Mark stood facing each other
as instructed, inches apart but without touching.
"It is easy to spread your legs for someone to stick a prick up your
c--t, or elsewhere, but it is the getting there that's important," she
continued. "I consider facial expressions, eye contact, body language and
kissing to be essential first steps. We will practise those first."
Rosemary and Mark had to just smile enticingly at each other, looking
into each other's eyes. She could senses the bottled-up torment and frustration
in that contact and she too felt the stirring of a reciprocal need for
friendship and comfort in this place.
"Now gentle touching and stroking, start at the head and neck and work
down."
She orchestrated her class like a conductor. Rather than loving,
spontaneous acts she ensured that her puppets performed exactly to her
specification. Peering closely, she nodded as Mark's hands slid down Rosemary's
swan-like neck and over her shoulders, down her waist.
"Stand closer, not so stiff, relax, keep your hands moving, light
touches, stroke her back and bottom," she ordered. "Remember, she wants to be
f--ked - but she must wait - let the expectation build." Mrs Leilla nodded in
satisfaction as his hands moulded themselves to the perfect buttock cheeks
visible through the thin material of the blonde's dress. A wry smile pulled at
the Arab woman's face when the straining, tent-like protuberance at Mark's waist
was squashed as the couple now pressed closer together swaying gently with the
music.
"Now, hands resting on each other's shoulders stroke the straps of the
little dress which you will on my order remove from each other, pretend it is a
man's shirt."
Rosemary shivered with pleasure at the gentle touch of Mark's fingers on
her shoulders. However, it made her tardy in continuing similar caresses of his
body.
Crack!
"Aaghh," she jumped, yelping with shock as Mrs Leilla's belt caught her
thighs a small, unexpected flick. The blow and the pain were so out of context
against the soothing, seductive background music.
"More effort girl," she snapped.
Trying to ignore the smarting, Rosemary concentrated on Mark's
shoulders. She sensed the frustrated, impotent anger in his eyes at his
inability to prevent her pain.
"Drop them."
Rosemary shivered again at the touch of his hands sliding the thin
garment from her body. Likewise, she rid his body of its ridiculous female
covering. Her large green eyes, still obediently locked on his, briefly
crinkled into wicked amusement and mock surprise as his penis, fully recovered
in stamina after the morning, stiffly brushed her fluttering belly.
"Ignore it girl - for the moment," their teacher directed. "Run your
fingers through your partners' hair. Shake it loose."
Her nipples hardening, Rosemary slid her hands over his head and neck;
in turn feeling her golden tresses flowing over fingers which traced lines of
desire, making her scalp tingle deliciously. Constantly she had to remind
herself that this wasn't Damien's touch. They weren't in a darkened bedroom,
they had no free will over their actions.
Crack!
"Haah."
"No holding back girl pretend you love your partner, that you want to
give her the gift of your body, forget that she is a woman.
The swish of Mrs Leilla's belt and Laura's gasp of pain in Kate's arms
was a further reminder to them all of the utter seriousness of what they had to
do.
Rosemary and Mark were genuinely trying to entice each other with their
eyes and Slightly parted mouths.
"Now your own bodies. Stroke and caress them. Keep the eye contact,
promise anything, everything, with your eyes and body. Circle your lips with
your tongues moisten them."
Swaying deliciously to the music, seductively, trying to forget the
circumstances and company under which she was doing it, Rosemary cupped her
breasts. She held them, feeling her nipples like ripe berries in her hands as
Mark ran his fingers up and down his throbbing erection.
"Touch your partner. Begin by tickling their nipples with your
fingertips, kiss their throat, then proceed, but not too far - don't get carried
away."
Her nipples became taut and stiff under Mark's manipulations, making
electric circles of desire wash through her breasts. Likewise, her own fingers
brushed and tweaked his hairy chest and his tight buds whilst planting soft
kisses on the thick pulse of his throat. Drawing her tightly against him,
against his desire, his throbbing spear pressed up against her belly. She
shivered as his hands traced down the enticing curve of her spine to gently cup
each magnificent cheek of her bottom. Likewise, she held his buttocks, which
were like two small hard dumbbells, pulling his need closer against her waiting
softness. Undulating against him, she took an impish delight in the knowledge
that he mustn't yet use it on her, being able to safely test her seductive
effect on him.
Mrs Leilla swiftly stalked to another couple.
Crack!
"Graghh, oh please," Lynne wailed as the belt caught her squarely across
her bottom, making her twist away from Lindsey's embrace.
"Look it maybe some time since you seduced anyone but you will do so now
- it doesn't matter that it is another woman. Those to whom you are paroled may
require you to perform such acts - and they will expect expertise. Or you may
be under the supervision of another woman. Pretend that person, whoever it is,
is your husband, pretend it's Brad Pitt - whoever. Just concentrate totally on
pleasing the person you are with. Soak up their touch."
Rosemary saw Lynne again press herself against Lindsey, the breasts of
both women erotically sliding together. Mrs Leilla's frown slowly disappeared
as the two lovely bodies swayed together, hands gliding down each other's dipped
spines to clasp the flexing buttocks, grinding their pubis together. To all
intents and purposes the nude couple could have been lesbian lovers caught in an
illicit embrace.
"Now, lips brushing, not kissing yet just touching. Go."
Resentment surged through her as this woman dictated actions and
emotions which should flow freely - but she knew better than to delay. Mark's
mouth brushed hers, her lips slightly parted, she pecked and nibbled his
stubbled skin, drinking in his maleness. All the while their eyes had to
express the promise required by their ever vigilant tutor - and little of it was
now acting. The hot moist tip of his erect penis was being tickled by the soft
down of her pubic hair as she gently moved her hips against him. She knew that
the warmth and moisture she felt at her apex was a testimony to her own
feelings.
Mark sighed, confirming the tormented frustrated pleasure in his eyes,
but then Mrs Leilla finally ordered the end of that exercise.
Rosemary then found herself having to reluctantly change partners; she
was now with Lynne. Their bobbing breasts were just touching, erect nipples
bouncing and brushing as they stood close together, their hands on the smooth
skin of each other's shoulders. They gently nibbled the other's ear lobes.
"Stroke her hair, you love her remember," their teacher instructed
Lynne, flicking the woman's bottom when she considered insufficient enthusiasm
was being shown.
Although not a lesbian, Rosemary couldn't deny the small stirring of
excitement, no matter how unwanted. As directed they gently exchanged kisses.
The schoolteacher's lips on her throat, her fingers running through her hair,
produced tingles of pleasure as their tight breasts rubbed sensuously together.
All the while though, the inquisitive face of Mrs Leilla thrust close to her
charges, directing their movements.
Another change of partners and Lindsey was before Rosemary. However,
the beautiful Italian girl had to stand with her back to her, arms outstretched
in the shape of a cross.
"We will now explore just the power of touch," the Arab woman instructed
as she directed one girl in each pair to stand as Lindsey was. "Come up behind
then, with eyes closed, explore her. Get to know your partner's body by touch,
whilst she will remain unmoving just absorbing the feelings."
Tentatively Rosemary ran her fingertips up the lovely arched spine over
each joint the flesh shivering deliciously. Lindsey held her position as she
softly stroked her neck under the hair line then over the satin shoulders.
Slap!
Rosemary squirmed as the Arab woman's hand lightly admonished her
bottom.
"Press close, let her feel your body too. Then explore her -
everywhere."
It felt so unnatural for her to press herself against the cool globes of
Lindsey's firm buttocks, but she knew she must. Likewise she reached around to
cup the jutting breasts, rolling them in her hands feeling the girl tremble, her
nipples firm under her touch.
Seeing Mrs Leilla look in her direction again, Rosemary continued her
fingertip exploration. The flat belly quivered as her hands slid down to the
pubic thatch. When their director nodded impatiently Rosemary took a deep
breath, whispering an apology into the soft neck, and delved below. She could
feel Lindsey's breath quickening as she stroked the soft ripeness of her sex
lips which were beginning to grow hot and moist. She could feel her companion's
desire under her fingertips. The little bud grew to meet her and she circled it
with tiny movements as Lindsey's hips began to judder and squirm uncontrollably.
"Enough. Exchange positions."
Rosemary guessed that Mrs Leilla's order came at an inopportune moment
for Lindsey and the others receiving such attentions. It was an unfulfilled
cruelty of desire as she was forced to abandon the now willing sex.
Rosemary shivered in anticipation. She assumed the outspread position
and felt Lindsey's pubis brush her bottom. The girl's boobs pressed against her
back, the nipples like two berries. Then the cool hands weighed and cupped her
breasts, pressing, circling and tweaking the cones of her nipples between slim
fingers. When they slid over her belly to her sex she shivered again, her legs
parting slightly as the girl found her waiting clitoris.
Unconsciously, eyes closed, Rosemary's hips began to gyrate under the
delicious touch. Guiltily she knew that she wanted those sensitive digits in
her, deep in her, pressing hard against her throbbing morsel of sex. What had
she become? She guessed that her experiences and ordeals were forcing her to
accept and even want such a touch - from anyone! She licked her lips as
Lindsey's fingertips traced lines of wanton abandon into her.
"Enough. I'll have no climaxing today sluts."
Rosemary could willingly have killed the smiling Arab as the hands left
her. Shamefully she even lowered her haunches slightly to keep them for a few
additional precious seconds.
"Tut, tut, quite the tart eh," Mrs Leilla tapped her shining quivering
flank which yearned for release. She smiled at Rosemary's grinding teeth,
knowing damn well how much her trainees wanted to continue. Yet another
torment. Rosemary sighed frustrated.
Full kissing and meeting of mouths was allowed when Rosemary was
partnered by Laura. She wondered how the young ex-policewoman felt at having to
perform such acts. She herself, someone who normally enjoyed being in control,
couldn't deny a sense of excitement at doing 'forbidden' things whilst enjoying
a total abdication of responsibility.
However, the young girl seemed as aroused she herself, her full lips
parted, breathing heavily. There was indeed an undeniable element of eroticism.
A gentle and controlled touching without the inevitable rushing gropes, the
thrusting of a rigid sex that most of the women had probably experienced with
men.
Their mouths softly opened over each others, tongues circling and
entwining under Mrs Leilla's gaze. Rosemary's belly quivered. Tightening her
grip on girl's small neat bottom her tongue curled sensuously around Laura's.
Eyes misting the youngster seemed to be dreaming, perhaps with memories of a
boyfriend. Unfortunately, only total concentration was sufficient for their
tutor.
Slap!
"Ooh," Laura yelped under the hand across her bottom and the stern voice
telling her to concentrate on her kissing, bringing her back to reality.
"You hold Trixie's bottom while you kiss, naughty girl," she went on -
"or I'll put you in the punishment book."
Now Laura was alive in Rosemary's arms, a hot eager body. She responded
fully to the tongue within her mouth darting and curling with her own. Sliding
her hands down the curve of the blonde's back she snuggled closer, gripping and
stroking the smooth flexing orbs of her buttocks. Rosemary bit her lip in
frustration and shame, knowing how much she wanted to make love to and conquer
the writhing pink young body pressing against her.
----------------------------
"Now we'll see how good your kissing really is I think," Mrs Leilla
resumed to the three pairs of trainees. She pointed at Rosemary. "You first
girl. Walk seductively up to me and give me a deep kiss, wiggle like a tart.
You others watch."
The shame scorched Rosemary's pretty face a bright hue, apprehension
clawing her belly; feeling ridiculous she gyrated woodenly towards her
tormentor. With parted lips she planted a shy tentative kiss on the woman's
impassive mouth.
Her humiliation was suddenly multiplied when Mrs Leilla pushed the naked
blonde away from her, delivering a stinging slap. Gasping with shock and shame
she covered her red, smarting face with shaking hands.
"Stop snivelling, pull yourself together girl. You do not simply flounce
up to me and brush lips as if I'm some maiden aunt and it's all too much
trouble. You want to entice me, you want me to f--k you, you want me more than
anything in the world. You seduce me with little pecks around my face. Then,
if your entreaties are not rejected you kiss me properly, sliding your body
against me, letting me know you want to be f---ed. You have to be a whore, not
a silly schoolgirl or a frigid wife with a headache. Your usefulness and your
future will depend on it. Now again please."
Poor Rosemary, a happily married woman with a healthy appetite for sex -
with the opposite sex - was expected to seduce another woman who held absolute
power over her, to her script and in public. She hesitated trying to get
herself into the correct frame of mind.
"Hurry up girl or I'll have Miss Wang take some skin off that shapely
backside," she flicked the curve of her victim's bottom, making it contract. "
Your future duties may inevitably require you to be with other women. Now get
it right."
Rosemary needed no second bidding. The thought of that she-devil having
a further excuse to punish her again was stimulus enough. There was also that
tiny undeniable germ of excitement within her at having to do such previously
unimaginable things without any responsibility for her actions. Although
normally liking to be in control she wondered if perhaps there was a previously
deeply hidden submissive side to her character?
Undulating her hips she glided to her tormentor a wicked smile on her
now earnest face before beginning to plant little kisses on the brown pulsing,
scented, throat. Her fingers traced light circles over the thin hair on the
nape of Mrs Leilla's neck whilst her thumbs rubbed the woman's ears. Firstly
her lips closed over the woman's soft ears, her tongue darting within. Now
they moved slowly towards her mouth, kissing the edges before brushing the
waiting lips, circling them with her tongue, gently prising them apart Looking
deep into her tormentor's eyes Rosemary pressed the hard tips of her breasts
against the woman letting the furry heat of her loins touch her thighs.
Like a man, Mrs Leilla opened her mouth to receive the enquiring tongue
their two active organs entwining together, quivering. Her hand closed over the
peak of one of Rosemary's breasts squeezing it passionately.
"Mmm, yes."
The sigh escaped Rosemary as the woman bent forward to briefly suck one
of her nipples into her mouth, her teeth deliciously nipping the captive morsel.
Finally, she lightly tapped the firm smoothness of the blonde's curvaceous
bottom pushing her away, both women panting slightly.
"Quite a tigress. I think you liked that. A bit of the lesbian in you
perhaps? If only your husband could see you now girl, see what you do with
other girls," she smiled before turning to the others, ignoring her victim's
red-faced shame. "Right, pair off and practice those techniques and I'll remind
you that no one comes on the first day. Anyone who gets carried away - gets
punished!"
The rubbery tip of Kate's breasts rolled gently between Rosemary's
quivering stretching lips as her tongue tickled round the girl's sensitive bud.
She drew it deeper into her mouth, holding in gently with her teeth, then
releasing it a little to flick with her tongue. The dark-haired girl's pretty
mouth was similarly kissing and sucking her nipples. Little slurping sounds
emanated from them as they worked as directed, leaning towards each other, necks
bent, hands resting lightly on shoulders. Their fingers stroked down lightly
shivering spines whilst their mouths did their work above. Cupping and stroking
the satin softness of each other's buttocks their fingers delved between the
smooth flexing globes.
They trailed their fingers from the hot moist furriness and over the
eager fleshy, moist lips, their loins soon jointly moving in pleasure.
"And what's wrong with these?" their eagle-eyed teacher was by their
side. She held one of Rosemary and Kate's heaving breasts in each hand,
weighing the orbs, manicured fingers sliding over the hard tips. "Or back
here?," she tapped their flinching buttocks, sliding a finger into each cool
cleft and expertly into the tight puckered heat within. "Your hands should
neglect no part of your partner's body."
Wincing, the two continued to grind together with Mrs Leilla's fingers
humiliatingly filling them from behind, stretching, fanning over each pair of
clenching buttocks.
----------------------------------------------
"Kneel at my feet girl."
Again Mrs Leilla chose Rosemary to demonstrate, this time oral
expertise. She felt a pang of trepidation as the Arab woman raised her skirt to
expose herself. A twinge of hatred rippled though her as her instructress so
casually removed a beautiful pair of green silken, thong knickers. It was the
type of exotic garment which she had often worn in the normal world outside but
was now denied her. A reminder her that she was no longer a part of that normal
world - simply a slave!
"Closer, get under my skirt little lap-dog, kiss my thighs first - at
the top." From above the cultured husky voice drifted down to the curly blonde
head edging between the brown spread legs, the musky smell invading Rosemary's
flared nostrils. The rich profusion of the woman's dark curly hair smothering
her pubic region tickled her face as she kissed and licked the perfumed flesh.
"Not bad, I suppose. You may be expected to do this to a woman, or a man
before licking and kissing his balls. Today you will use my sex instead. Begin
by using your mouth on the lips of my slit," commanded the voice from above.
"Yes, yes, now move up hmm. Dart in there with your tongue, right in, that's
it, arghh, good. Suck the bud in, kiss it, rub it ... rub it you hot bitch,
ahh, good girl, good girl," the voice had a distinctive waiver to it now and
Rosemary felt the thighs clamping unnaturally around her head, trapping her in a
moist, hot world. She fought for breath, almost trying to tear herself away.
"Don't stop, carry on little slut," Mrs Leilla panted, gripping her hair,
pushing her head harder into her wet hairy heat. "Tongue in, right in, oh, yes,
yes. Now flick it, chew it, yes oh yeeees."
She shuddered head thrown back as she climaxed. Then there was silence
in the room for a minute or so as Mrs Leilla stretched luxuriously ignoring the
six Angles. Not knowing what else to do Rosemary knelt obediently at the
woman's feet. Her face, hot and prickly, flushed crimson as the Arab casually
ruffled her hair, as one would with a dog. Never had she felt such shame.
Finally the woman sighed, returning to her charges.
"Hmm, not a bad lapping," she announced, pulling on her underwear. "I
think that's maybe not your first time with a woman eh?" She cupped the swinging
breasts of the kneeling girl. " Whoever takes you will enjoy you. I think
you'll make a good f--k," she laughed at her victim's pretty blushes.
Before long it was Rosemary's turn to receive pleasure. She lay back
with splayed thighs supporting herself on her arms watching Laura's rich long
hair bobbing away, feeling the youngster's inexperienced yet active tongue
darting into her. Her belly flipped. Under her tutor's direction the tongue
was probing in just the right places, making another warm bubble begin to form
deep within her. Shamefully, she longed to grab the dark tresses and push the
head harder against her, but she had been forbidden from moving. Instead, her
fists balled in tension, controlling her surging feelings. In accordance with
her instructions, Mrs Leilla made each mouth stop when she judged the recipient
was near to her climax. The yearned-for release of an orgasm was to be only
hers that day. A privilege to be earned she told them laughingly.
-------------------------------------------------
"Here girl, I need you again," the Arab's face was still diffused with
spent passion when she crooked a finger at Rosemary. In her othår hand she had
a greased length of rubber about the size and shape of a large metal cigar tube.
Nervously licking her lips, the blonde walked to her tormentor, swinging her
hips seductively like a tart - as she knew she must. The woman gripped her slim
shoulders, her other hand moving downwards.
"Ugh, haah," Rosemary gasped stretching up onto tip-toe as the cold tube
was eased into her anus. In it went, ever deeper, twisting and turning, filling
her unnaturally. She had a natural aversion to being touched there, but now
simply had to endure the smiling woman's horrid and shameful touch.
"That's how I want it done for your next exercise. Grip it tight with
your internal muscles girl, if it drops out you'll be for it, "Mrs Leilla
warned, making Rosemary clench her buttocks desperately." Pair up again; Dixie
over here so Trixie can plug your little botty."
Rosemary felt Lindsey's breasts brushing her own heaving with anguish as
she positioned a greased tube between the girl's buttocks. Her finger delved
between the cool globes seeking the tight rubbery ring before slowly pushing and
twisting the tube into the heat of the Italian's sphincter, overcoming her
natural resistance. The girl grunted, her fingers tightly gripping Rosemary's
shoulders as she too was filled. Beside her the other pairs of Angels now stood
with the stubs of the black rubber plugs protruding rudely from between their
white clenching cheeks.
"I'll demonstrate how to stimulate your partner."
"Aah," Rosemary gasped again as Mrs Leilla began moving the static
rubber in her bottom. At first it felt disgusting, horrible. However, before
long, the woman's skilled manipulations, sliding in and out, twisting and
turning brought an undeniable sliver of pleasure, no matter how unwanted or
unexpected.
"In pairs, work with your partners."
There was silence in the room apart from the occasional gasp and squeal
as they clasped each other, manipulating the plugs in each others' anus.
Rosemary felt stretched as the plug bored deeply and persistently into her
protesting sphincter. Yet as predicated the stimulation did produce an electric
spark within her. She could feel Lindsey's breath quickening too as she pumped
the rubber into the gripping resistance of her friend's tight heat. The perfect
globes of her bottom clenching fetchingly.
"Enough," Mrs Leilla clapped her hands, smiling as she regarded the nude
figures sporting plugs obscenely from between their beautiful bottoms. "You know
how to give and receive pleasure there. It could stand you in good stead," she
added.
------------------------------------------
Finally these first lessons in love were at an end and the trainees
could don their short dresses for their frugal evening meal eaten in customary
monastic silence. Then Miss Mitzie handed out poetry texts to each of them
telling them to memorise them because they would be tested within a day or two.
However, before the weary Angels could even begin to glance at the
texts, the pressure was increased by the Negress. She reminded them that
punishment parade would take place in two hours. Meanwhile, however, she told
them they had cleaning duties with mops and polish to keep the buildings spick
and span. Briskly she allocated various areas for each of them to attend to.
Gasping for breath Rosemary knelt with as bucket of hot soapy water and
a hard scrubbing brush cleaning the dirt and booted scuff marks from a corridor.
She had to ignore the ribald comments from passing guards ogling her bare
jiggling bottom peeking from below the minuscule dress riding on her back.
Sometimes, accompanied buy much giggling laughter, a boot would lift her still
further dress and prod her bouncing buttocks
Tired and hot, her arms were aching, her knees sore. She wasn't used to
such labours, she employed a maid for several hours a day at home. And she
guessed that many of the other Angels were similarly unused to such hard and
demeaning domestic chores. However, they all knew that they would be punished
for not completing their allotted quotas. Also that if they finished,
satisfactorily, they time might have time to study the texts they had to learn.
Somehow Rosemary did manage to finish in time to allow herself a few
minutes of study. Needless to say though she found that concentration on the
words was not easy whilst quaking in dread of that parade. By having the day's
punishments inflicted in the evening the tension of anticipation was added.
-----------------------------------------------
"Welcome to the first evening punishment parade Angels," the voice of
the large Negro who had welcomed them echoed in the stillness. "I regret that
discipline is a necessity in a training establishment such as this, but I hope
that by learning from your mistakes so you reduce your own suffering. I now
hand you over to Miss Mitzie," he decreed, nodding to her.
"Thank you Mr Sampson. Angels remove your dresses and stand back to
attention please," Miss Mitzie's teeth flashed whitely.
All were lined up in the large gym. In a gut wrenching formal process
as if they were in court; with everyone's name, faults and decreed punishment
read out by the Negress. As she stood tense, silent and still Rosemary
marvelled how methodically the regime had been thought out to the last sadistic
detail. No name was absent from that dreaded punishment book, everything was
recorded.
Generally minor infringement each warranted one stroke of the cane or
slipper on the bare buttocks. Those with three or less strokes simply had to
bend over before the assembly to receive them. Those who had been 'awarded' a
greater number had their wrists secured behind them with the cuffs they
constantly wore and twisted up between their shoulders to be fixed to a ceiling
pulley forcing them to stoop forward immobile for their punishment.
It seemed, by virtue of their clash with Mr Ho, that Rosemary and
Lindsey would both receive a worse punishment. It was called the 'Fancy
Tickler' Miss Mitzie revealed. However, to add to their ordeal they had to
firstly stand to attention with the others, bellies quaking, whilst the lesser
punishments were carried out; these were conducted one at a time by Mr Ho and on
completion each victim had to bow and thank him.
The gymnasium soon rang to the sounds of the cane's swish, the creaking
and clanking of the pulley and the various screams and sobs from the victims
followed by a tearful thank you. The wooden walls absorbed the smell of fear as
the punishments progressed. Thus it was an hour before the final caning had
taken place. This had been the dark-haired woman, Slapper.
Although in her forties the beauty of the woman's body was still evident
as she hung bent over from the pulley the tips of her toes scrabbling to take
her weight. Her breasts jutted out firmly and below the painful curve of her
back the still-firm buttocks curved outwards to receive eight strokes of the
rod. Miss Wang had apparently been responsible for many of the reports against
the woman. She stood just in front of her painfully bound victim, nearly
holding the hanging breasts, which danced in anguish with her every sob, seeming
to drink in the older woman's pain.
Only when the sobbing woman had resumed her place smartly to attention
did Rosemary and Lindsey find out what awaited them. The Fancy Tickler
consisted of a tubular ring of metal like a thin toilet seat fixed horizontally
about half a metre from the floor to an upright post on each side. Rosemary had
to squat on the round hoop the lower portion of her body projecting nakedly
through it towards the floor. Mr Ho's loving hands fastened a thin cord around
each thigh to hold her immovably to the ring. Her ankles were fastened wide
apart to ringbolts in the floor exposing blatantly wide her pink intimacy. The
ceiling pulley secured her wrists, which had been cuffed between her shoulders,
forcing her to lean cruelly forwards, folded. Two cords attached to her neck
collar then pulled her back the other way - her head held immobile.
"Aaghh," she gasped at the strain imposed on her limbs by the cruel
binding looking up with wide eyes at her squat tormentor - finding no pity in
his eyes.
On the floor beneath her jutting buttocks he placed an innocuous looking
fly swat with numerous flails. However, it was fixed onto a powerful catapult
and from which a long crank handle ran. The swat rested snugly on the polished
floor beneath the most sensitive areas of her exposed body.
"Having more than 13 faults in punishment book certainly unlucky,"
laughed a smiling Miss Wang. "That warrant one lash of tickler for every three
faults. Like others you fail to meet your track quota and had be punished
during love lessons," the evil young girl smiled sweetly at her victims.
"However, you and Dixie also both naughty girls, cheeky to Mr Ho when he try
to help you. Miss Mitzie and I simply not have that."
Both trembling victims received a glare of confirmation from the
Negress. They nearly opened their straining mouths to protest at the
unfairness. However, biting their tongues, they knew that in this regime it
would be quite useless and undoubtedly earn them more punishment. Fairness was
not a word that existed in the Lavery organisation. Rosemary's tongue licked
round her dry lips and briefly touched the bug in her tooth. It gave her
comfort even though she knew she could never live with herself if she called in
the cavalry too soon and before she had found Penny.
"Thus in total," Miss Wang continued, "Trixie will receive 5 tickles and
Dixie 6. Please continue Mr Ho," she stepped back as the Chinaman slowly
tightened the elastic, notch by notch with the crank handle. The Chinese girl
had stepped forward again to stare impassively into her victim's face, ready,
not wanting to waste any drop of the agony which would spill from her glistening
frightened features.
Sweat was beading on Rosemary's brow. She could see between her hanging
breasts and curly down, the most sensitive areas of her body splayed openly and
helplessly above the flails. Her belly flip-flopped and her bowels felt liquid.
Desperately, uselessly, she tried to close her thighs or shift position. With
each clack as the winch was tightened on the ratchet her toes curled in slippery
sweat in expectation of the pain.
She heard a click from beneath her and then her world exploded in a red
mist.
"Arrrrggghhhhhh."
The searing thongs scoured into every nook and cranny of her silken
flesh like red hot pins. With her head thrown back, pulling painfully on her
pinioned shoulders and collar she screamed out her agony into the smiling face
of the young girl inches from hers. How she would love to fly at her, scratch
the smirk from her face. Instead her fists clenched in an agony of frustration
in her bonds. Muscles corded and knotted, standing out in stark relief against
her softness, she tried again with futility to lift her hindquarters from the
metal ring but still could not move her body an inch.
It felt as if burning wires had been drawn right up between her splayed
thighs and up inside her to her belly. Gasping, her breath hissed through
clenched teeth. Sagging slightly in her cords, sweat trickled down her back and
into the splayed cleft of her buttocks. Then she heard the terrible remorseless
sound of the crank being tightened again beneath her. Desperately she tried to
hold on to her bladder and bowels as she prepared, with eyes screwed shut and
teeth gritted, for the next stroke.
After her five, Rosemary felt as if she had been made to squat over a
barbecue. The petals of her sex and the sensitive apex of her thighs were one
tight knot of agony. The core of her being was a throbbing mass of stinging
pain. It took Mr Ho two attempts, finally having to slap her face, before she
could mumble out her thanks to him. Then Miss Wang, an almost kindly arm around
her slippery, heaving shoulders, guided her back to stand once again at
attention whilst Lindsey was punished. Rosemary felt so weak, swaying several
times, but fear of even greater punishment, and the arms of one of the
fluttering Chinese office staff, kept her in place.
Finally it was all over and Miss Mitzie was addressing them again.
"You will be pleased to hear that this concludes today's punishment
parade. You have been given texts to learn and I suggest you do so. Although
you will be locked in your boxes you can turn the lights on or off whenever you
wish. Many of you are probably wincing a bit," she laughed cruelly through sharp
white teeth. "However have no fear, you'll be as good as new after a night with
your boxes healing rays. I trust though that lessons have been learned and that
maybe subsequent punishment parades will be shorter."
There was none in the assembly that did not agree from the bottom of
their hearts.
------------------------
That evening in her metal coffin the soothing rays wonderfully eased
Rosemary's throbbing burning pain, it was almost a sexual feeling. She spent
some time studying the poetry text she had to learn. Recollections triggered by
her lesbian experiences that afternoon brought back memories of her college days
and a special relationship with her pretty music teacher. Having missed a
school lesson, Rosemary - then of a petite 18 years - had to call at her
teacher's house to catch up. The woman, although in her forties, was good
looking, 'plumpish' but with a certain sensuality. Her long dark hair, normally
pulled up into a bun was cascading freely. She had obviously just showered and
greeted her knock in a large towelling bathrobe. Carelessly, she thought at the
time, her teacher had not fastened the robe properly. As she played the piano,
seated on the bench next to her, progressively more of one large pendulous
breast swung and jiggled into view with her movements. It made it more
difficult for her to concentrate.
Maybe somehow, the teacher had sensed the crush the pretty blonde
schoolgirl had on her. Rosemary was ashamed of her thoughts about the woman.
She knew that her teacher was married but she still found herself wondering
about the colour of her underwear, what she wore in bed, what it would be like
to be kissed by her.
When the teacher had exclaimed excitedly how well Rosemary had played
and clasped her in her arms, the young girl had looked down to see a large bare,
red tipped bosom crushed against her school blouse. When, with flushed face and
confused thoughts, she had met the teacher's eyes it was to see a peculiar
expression there. Slowly the teacher had kissed Rosemary's cheek and then the
edge of her mouth, soft warm pecks. Before she realised it her tutor's robe had
slipped to the floor and she was magnificently naked beside her. Her body was
an exquisite feast spread for the young girl's delight.
Gasping eagerly, Rosemary assisted the teacher's hands in removing her
own starched white school clothes until they were both naked, standing facing
each other astride the piano bench. Tantalisingly, the teacher had insisted
Rosemary complete her lesson. It was difficult remembering the notes and the
tempo with those long dark hands sliding up and down the curved dip of her spine
and gently stroking the pink tip of her small swaying breasts. Somehow she
finished though and then they were in each other's arms. Young and pink melded
and crushed with darker and older flesh. Assertiveness and experience fed off
beauty and innocence in that long evening, the shadows playing over the groves
and hollows of the two naked bodies which locked and writhed together. When she
held and clasped her teacher tightly as the woman's hands soaped her nudity
under the shower she thought at the time that this was the person she wanted to
spend the rest of her life with. However, the dawn of reality inevitably
intervened in the shape of a change of job for the teacher and gorgeous young
college boy for her. Still she sometimes thought fondly of that, her first,
experience with a woman. That tenderness possibly unique to two women had
sustained her through many subsequent experiences; maybe it would help her here
too.
CHAPTER 7
Rosemary, along with around a dozen other women, were all seated in a
room which intentionally looked and even smelt like a classroom. They had
already slogged away for several hours during their third day as coolies
relaying those heavy tracks under the eyes of the obnoxious Mr Ho. More notes
had been made in the punishment book for them not achieving the quota but at
least the track laying was progressing she thought. However, she knew that the
pulling of those heavy trucks in races was yet to come.
Now though she was amongst those half of the trainees who were to be
given 'schooling'! The school-like smell of polish was not a surprise to
Rosemary in fact because she recalled how, the previous day she and several
others had to spend back-breaking hours bringing the wooden floor and desks to a
mirror-like shine.
Other factors also drew similarities with school. Firstly, the size of
the tiny desks and chairs. Also, each beautiful woman was dressed in a
humiliating uniform of a short pleated black skirt with a white blouse - washed
and ironed by other labouring hands - and a pair of ridiculously small frilly
pants which were almost constantly in view above the minuscule skirt. No bras
were permitted and each pair of breasts was clearly visible through the
see-through material of the blouses.
The 'teacher' they awaited would be Miss Wang, her glittering black eyes
like a hawk's in her pretty face. Although a doll-like girl, any similarities
with a doll were at face value only. On arrival she would sit relaxed on a
desk at the front, one leg swinging casually over the other beneath a short
skirt. The girl really, had complete and utter control over her charges and
she used it to the full.
The lessons themselves, attended by groups of Angels normally two or
three times a week, were to them, totally irrelevant. The inconsequential
repetitious learning of ancient Arabic or Chinese poems, sayings or proverbs of
which many Westerners would not previously have heard.
"These lessons instill right attitude of mind," Miss Wang would assure
them. "They enable you converse with grace with those who you serve after
leaving here."
However, the Angels' gossip rumour factory surmised that film records of
these and other activities around the camp were in great demand amongst
observers at the camp and prospective purchasers, also being sold in a thriving
market for such material. Whatever the actual purpose the 'lessons' was
irrelevant to the Angels. However, the punishments for failing to perform to the
exacting standards expected, were anything but inconsequential, as Rosemary knew
to her cost! With trepidation she was aware that the text that she and the
other girls had been given to learn by heart for today's lesson was patchy and
far from committed to memory despite intent studying of it well into the early
hours
If she herself felt intimidated and humiliated by her present
surroundings how, she thought, must, Slapper, next to her, feel? Apparently the
older, dark-haired beauty's real name, whispered in precious snatched moments,
was Carol. Her figure was superb, with little or no fat, large breasts and the
bottom Miss Mitzie had already publicly admired. Her personality though was
extremely shy and inhibited and this was played on by the demons in control of
them.
Carol had explained bitterly to Rosemary that her cruel husband had
arranged for her to be sent here after he had caught her having an affair with
another man. Her husband was spending her money whilst she languished here, her
two grown up children having been told that she had run away with the man! One
of those children was an adopted Chinese girl from her husband's first marriage
who was older than the young Chinese 'teacher' whose presence they now awaited
with anticipatory dread! Rosemary understood how that humiliating age
difference of her tormentor, and comparisons with her own step-daughter, must
hurt Carol.
Time passed. The tension became unbearable as they awaited their
tormentor all having to assume the same cramped posture. Seated stiffly upright
in their sexy school uniforms, they were wedged into the tiny chairs, arms
folded and legs feet flat on the floor, spaced wide apart. The white vees of
their knickers were on display beneath the tiny skirts. Any movement to ease
their positions or speaking was forbidden. The ever-present cameras around the
place ensured their compliance.
Hearing a tiny sob, Rosemary's eyes slid sideways to Carol, seeing a
tear trickling down alongside her perfect aquiline nose. Here was a woman,
nearly old enough to be her own mother. She could imagine the woman gliding
around elegant cocktail parties in along black dress talking to diplomats or
statesmen. Instead, she was humiliatingly displayed as a 'schoolgirl.' She
flicked a brief smile of sympathy at the woman before again looking straight
ahead.
Now, an electric tenseness descended on the waiting women. Footsteps
could be heard approaching and someone's stomach rumbled nervously in the
silence. As the door handle slowly descended the tension became almost a
visible presence and Rosemary felt the stab of a rigid contracting muscle across
her shoulder blades.
The hateful diminutive oriental figure in her short black skirt, strode
briskly into the room. Immediately the silence was shattered as twelve chairs
were pushed back and twelve trembling women sprang standing to attention.
"Good afternoon girls."
"Good afternoon Miss Wang," the assembled lines of misery respectfully
chorused. In reality though, the dearest wish of all of them all was undoubtably
to strangle the hateful little fiend.
Miss Wang's sharp features remained inscrutable as she surveyed the sea of
apprehensive, shining faces in the room staring attentively at her. Her outward
calm concealed two contradictory emotions. The delicious bubbling joy flowing
like hot wine through her veins at the absolute power she had over the women
with herself being at such a young age. Secondly her hatred for lazy capitalist
pigs such as these. She had been brought up since childhood to fight for the
communist cause for which her parents had given their lives under the bomb-bays
of Western aircraft in the Far Eastern jungles. However, with the present
decline in popularity of communism she found herself a rebel without a cause.
Thus what could be better than carrying on her personal war, or crusade, by
putting these bitches through hell.
She particularly enjoyed tormenting the eldest one, Slapper. Not only
did the woman, unknown to her, have a connection, an unfortunate one, with the
current man in her life, she also reminded Wang of the age her own mother would
have been had she been allowed to live. Then her small oriental eyes shifted
across to the tousled blonde figure of Trixie - another woman in whom she might
have a future interest.
Behind Miss Wang entered a thin, balding slightly nervous looking man in
a long coat, he was of Western appearance, aged probably somewhere in his
fifties. His small eyes hidden behind pebble glasses shifted nervously around
the room hardly settling anywhere and the tip of his tongue constantly flicked
around his thin lips. Rosemary instantly summed him up in her view as a man
typical of those who would frequent the more seedy areas of Soho. The girls knew
though that prospective purchasers or observers who could afford it could visit
the camp's activities. This creature would, she appreciated bitterly, have his
eyeful of lush femininity under intense humiliating discipline! The girls knew
that it was not wise to look directly at anyone unless told, thus not to attract
unwarranted attention. However, each girl who did inevitably flick her eyes
briefly at the man wondered with sinking heart whether she was destined to serve
out her remaining parole with such a creep and to be at his mercy?
"Let me introduce today's observer," Miss Wang announced breezily, "we
call him Mr Smith. However, you will, as customary, ignore his honourable
presence from point of view of this lesson. Please be seated here Mr Smith,"
Miss Wang continued, pointing to a comfy chair behind her square desk at the
front. Smiling nervously, the man seated himself before the class, only his
upper body being visible." Feel free to walk around at will," she added to him
before turning to the class.
Miss Wang pointed rudely at a beautiful woman with shoulder length
blonde hair. Rosemary understood that Linda had apparently been a hairdresser
in England before running foul of an Arab in the Hilton hotel and accepting his
invitation to start a business in this terrible country. After being tempted in
some set-up situation she had been caught by the police and paid the price with
Lavery. Linda visibly paled, gulping under the finger pointing almost
accusingly at her.
"Snipper, you shall be table monitor today, lay out the books. You
others may sit. What do you say slut?" she queried menacingly when there was no
reply from the blonde.
"Sorry M-miss, thank you Miss," stumbled Linda controlling a brief flash
of anger across her pretty face presumably at being spoken to thus by a girl
several years younger than herself. Undoubtedly too she didn't relish the
attention of being monitor but was relieved that she was not to be punished.
She scurried about laying out the books on the desks including those
occupied by Miss Wang and Mr Smith. The latter almost salivated at the pert
roundness of her bottom and the flashes of white knickers as she moved around
bending and scampering. Finally, with shaking fingers, and after first kissing
the polished wood as instructed, she placed Miss Wang's wicked black cane, long,
thin and flexible, in exactly the required position on her tormentor's desk.
Then she made to return to her seat but Miss Wang had other ideas.
"I sense some insolence just now, Western bitch, which need be knocked
out of you as soon as possible. Hands out palms upwards before desk please. If
you pull away you get more."
Cheeks red with initial rage and then shame, the beautiful woman
complied obediently, trying to ignore the intense eagerness of Mr Smith as she
held out trembling hands to the Chinese girl in the humiliating position
required.
Swish!
"Aahhh."
Linda flinched but managed somehow to resist a natural impulse to snatch
her throbbing hand away.
Swish!
"Oooh, ouch."
The cane cracked down twice on each palm to leave thin red stripes of
pain before the blonde, blinking back tears with wet fringed eyes, was
instructed to curtsey before resuming her seat and refolding her arms in common
with the other girls.
"Yesterday you had privilege of studying thoughts of learned 17th
century thinkers from China," the vixen announced sweetly. " I hope you learned
them thoroughly. As Snipper already warmed up she now stand and recite first
six lines."
Panic washed over the blonde's face as she stood to attention, breasts
bouncing under the watchful gaze of Miss Wang and Mr Smith. She looked at the
far ceiling of the room to collect her thoughts.
"You no gain inspiration by looking up there girl, maybe your tits too
heavy - weighing on mind," Miss Wang spoke with a cruel grin. "If you no begin
on count of three you remove your blouse, also earning one stroke in punishment
book. Begin; one, two."
"I-I have journeyed far in search of ... of," her cultured voice
faltered, her terrified eyes bored into the unhelpful ceiling as the pressure
blanked out her mind.
"Blouse off please and continue - stupid whore," her tormentor ordered.
Clumsily the blushing woman slipped off her blouse to let her breasts
swing free like two melons.
Mr Smith, licking his thin lips leant forward in the chair. Rosemary
guessed that Linda would have give anything to cover her orbs but knew that was
forbidden. With hands by her side, her face a picture of tension, she managed
to hesitantly struggle through those first six lines.
Miss Wang's curt nod was her only reward. She curtsied and sat down.
Any clothing removed stayed off for the lesson's duration and when Linda
folded her arms, her large red nipples brushed her wrists. She again spaced her
legs apart in the regulation manner.
"Slapper, continue with next six lines."
Anxiously working her mouth Carol stood.
"Divine, providence has given me" no, no sorry Miss," Carol stumbled and
hesitated, eyes darting desperately. "It's ... it's, a man from a far off ...
."
"Slapper!" Miss Wang abruptly rose, clutching her cane and striding
menacingly towards the woman, "I think your mind is far off. You ruin great
work of art. Are you f---ing thick," she snapped the last words in time to her
cane lashing Carol's desk, making her flinch.
"Sorry Miss," she whispered the only possible response, "I'll try again
and ..."
"You do precisely as I say girl," snapped the youngster grabbing Carol's
quivering chin, "not as you think. Strip naked. Stand in front of desk hands on
head. See if removing clothes remove impediments to lazy thought process.
Move!"
The girl stood inches before her as Carol removed her last vestiges of
'civilised' trappings, her final protection and covering against the world,
folding each garment neatly over the chair. Clasping her hands behind her head
her soft breasts thrust upwards, straight at Mr Smith. In addition to the
bright redness of her face within the margin of her long black hair, her naked
flesh had several red flushed patches as a testament to her inner shame.
"I know you like standing undressed, flashing yourself girl," Miss Wang
mocked her near-weeping victim.
Watching the gamut of emotions washing over Carol's face Rosemary could
imagine her feelings. It was bad enough undressing publicly, but the shame was
multiplied when you stood alone before others who were fully dressed. That had
apparently been the woman's introduction to Lavery. She recalled the woman, in
the whispered exchanges of confidences, relating how, whilst on holiday in
Hassan, she had been picked up for interrogation by faceless people.
Strolling in a park Carol had apparently picked up a magazine from where
it lay on the park bench where she was due to meet her husband. Suddenly men,
big purposeful men with guns and uniforms, had appeared from everywhere and
deftly handcuffed Carol's wrists behind her. They all ignored her please and
cries of protest as, accompanied by a uniformed policewoman she was thrown into
the back of a van. Immediately a smelly black hood was pulled over her head
and the woman screamed at her to shut up.
It was an endless journey in virtual silence. Finally she was pulled
blindly out by unseen hands to stumble into the cool of a building and down
numerous steps with the chill seeming to increase, together with her fear, with
every downward step into the bowels of the earth.
Then a harsh voice had told her to stop and the hood was snatched from
her face.
"Please, look, why have you brought me here? I haven't done any ... ."
"Shut it," interrupted the hatchet faced policewoman . "We do not have
to justify our actions to anyone - least of all you. I suppose it was sheer
coincidence that you picked up that magazine and you had no knowledge of the
drugs hidden within it," she had demanded?
Pleading ignorance was, Carol had discovered, totally useless. Within
minutes she had been stripped naked and the woman's cold hands had explored and
intruded in every cavity of her body - shiny with sweat despite the subterranean
cold. Then, still nude, she was hustled into a large room. It was empty apart
from a high stool and a large mirror on one wall surrounded by surveillance
cameras, lights and microphones.
They had made her stand naked, straight and painfully on tiptoe, with
her hands clasped on her head answering every question thrown at her from the
owner of an unseen voice from behind a mirror. Her frenzied mind was filled
with fear, humiliation and shame. With her voice echoing strangely in the empty
room, answering questions about her bank accounts and finances, everything
seemed so unreal. Could she really be standing nude, hands clasped on her neck
afraid to move, her bare toes aching intolerably from the enforced posture
holding her entire weight, shifting uneasily on a cold concrete floor?
Everything seemed unreal except the crack of the wet towel across her back or
bottom if she refused to answer, hesitated or tried to move from her cramped
posture. The woman, her only companion in the large room, stood behind her. The
horrid creature's arm was strong and her aim good.
She had apparently stood thus all afternoon talking herself horse. Then
her husband arrived, with several other people - from Lavery. She had to remain
naked, whilst they were fully dressed. They all stood around her whilst they
explained they would spare her a twenty year prison sentence for smuggling drugs
if she signed the papers consigning herself to Lavery for a period of parole.
Afterwards, instead of the tearful reunion she expected with her husband, he had
seemed to be on their side. The guard had remained standing behind her, lashing
her bottom if she tried to move from her position, whilst her husband touched
her crudely, shamelessly. He explained how he had discovered her affair, had
arranged the set-up, and would now spend her inherited money 'wisely' whilst she
was away.
"Slapper." Rosemary's surmising was interrupted by Miss Wang's sharp
voice bringing her back to the present, addressing the woman.
She cringed as Carol tried again with the poem, her efforts not assisted
by the cane tapping lightly against her bottom with every stumbled word. Again
her recital was unsuccessful.
"Enough!" Miss Wang glared angrily at her flinching victim, you too
f___ing dense to get any more right. I note punishment book. Remain standing,
Trixie will continue after your fourth line."
Anxiously clearing her throat, Rosemary obediently stood, nervously
shaking her blonde hair from her face, her breasts bouncing softly under the
blouse.
"I dream of mountains filled with fire, lakes of ice which ... which ...
," stabbing fear lanced into her belly as her mind went blank. The pressure was
too much. She was lost. Those illusive words had danced out of her mind. The
Chinese girl stood right before her, smiling wickedly her cane prodding her
breasts, making them jiggle.
"You worse than Slapper. Strip - everything," she demanded.
Her face hot and flushed, Rosemary removed her clothes and stood with
her hands on head trying to ignore Mr Smith's hot eyes boring into her.
"Haaah," she yelped in pain as the cane slapped one of her sensitive
orbs. Although her hands sprang from her neck in a futile attempt to protect,
and rub the pain away from, her throbbing boob she replaced them under the
girl's icy glare.
"You no move."
Crack!
"Please," winced Rosemary sobbing as the cane flicked her other fruit
but this time just managing to hold her position.
"Punishment book for you girl, but I also think you need reminder not to
touch yourself there." She turned to the figure seated at the front of the
class. "Mr Smith, those clips holding papers on my desk? That right. Maybe
bring here please, help me with this discipline."
Rosemary wanted to shrink away as the podgy sweating creature eagerly
sidled up holding two 'bulldog' clips, his fleshy lips decorated with specs of
spittle.
"Please to hold Trixie's breasts, push out her nipples so I put clip
on, then perhaps she remember not to touch them."
Swallowing deeply, steeling herself not to shrink away, Rosemary
shuddered as the hot, moist hands held each breast, stretching it painfully then
gleefully rubbing the rubbery tip to an unwanted hardness. The creep taking was
free liberty with a woman's most precious, most intimate fruit, making her feel
despoiled, sick. She imagined Miles or Damien bursting into the room and
punching in the creeps ugly sweating face, even imagining doing so herself. She
knew she was quite capable of it. However, that was the just a dream. The
reality was not so pleasant. Obediently she kept her hands in place, the
posture thrusting out her orbs enticingly before him.
"Haaaah."
She winced as the Chinese youngster carefully closed the serrated jaws
around her swollen bud. It felt as if many hot, sharp pins had been thrust into
her, temporarily driving out any concerns about the perverted lechers obscene
hands on her body. A supreme effort of will kept her hands clasped to her neck
as they handled her other boob before the excruciating pain bit into her.
Although not wanting to cry before her tormentors, tears misted her eyes
at the sight of the two black clips dangling painfully from each distended orb.
She longed to rip the sharp teeth from her flesh, ease the throbbing pain, but
knew that no such option was realistically open to her. She must just absorb
and accept it. Then she too had to stand, naked at the front of the class
beside Carol.
Miss Wang looked almost contemptuously at Mr Smith. His eyes were devouring
Rosemary. He must, she thought, feel that he had gone to heaven. She
understood that he had won a lottery, given up work and gradually expanded his
contacts in several mail order clubs before finding Lavery. Watching his
nervous yet excited face she imagined that he would probably never have dreamt
of being surrounded by so much feminine beauty. These women would, if his gaze
had so much as lingered on them in the world outside, have scorned or dismissed
him. Now they were his to drool over.
Having been made, on various pretexts, to remove their erotic uniforms,
which in any case, left little to the imagination, all of the girls were now
naked. His imagination would have had even less work to do. Their lush breasts
and bottoms curved and bounced before him as she had them do PT - to limber up
their minds she said. At this point in the lesson she had already applied the
cane to those rounded limbs, in addition to making reports in the dreaded
punishment book. Thus, most tender breasts, thighs or bottoms carried red lines
of torment.
It must, she thought, be even worse for the blonde bitch, Rosemary. In
addition to the humiliation of bending and stretching before the creep, the
clips still swung painfully, like little crabs, from her distended boobs making
her wince with greater pain. Now Smith's eyes seemed to be mesmerized by the
sight of the coloured secret entrances normally hidden between the blonde's legs
but now totally exposed as she lay on her back thighs splayed performing bicycle
movements. However, Miss Wang decided she was slacking.
"Aahh."
She smacked the sensitive upturned inner thighs, the painful sound
echoing around in the small room. Following Miss Wang, Mr Smith turned to Carol
and Linda. Both the dark-haired and blonde beauties had a natural
sophistication, both were also modestly shy and conscious of their nudity before
him. The expression on Mr Smith's red face was a picture for the Chinese fiend.
She hated men such as him almost as much as she did these Western women who had
fallen into her clutches. Watching in disgusted amusement, she saw his hand
moving in his pocket as he so obviously drank in their torment and the sheen of
effort covering their chiselled features.
Carol and Linda were having to continually touch their toes with legs
well astride to reveal delightful feminine tufts peeking from the sex lips
nestling in the shadows between the spheres of their rounded bottoms. The old
trainer-shoe which Linda had to herself fetch from Miss Wang's cupboard in her
mouth, flashed down once, twice, three times, all on virtually the same spot,
the sensitive area where her buttock cheeks curled under to meet the upper
thigh. How she shrieked, sniffing back tears as the trainer now cracked across
Carol's taut curves.
Mr Smith's hand pressed harder into his pocket as he turned back to
Rosemary's bare pumping limbs and the delicious flashes of mauve furry flesh
between them. She closed her eyes, in disgust at his subtle movements, sweat
pooling on her straining face.
Rosemary was uncomfortably aware of her full bladder, as were no doubt
many of the others, after several hours in that now hot and stuffy classroom.
An additional refined cruelty invented by Miss Wang was that the girls who were
due afternoon lessons were not allowed to use the lavatory after their morning's
labours. Thus most were feeling to some extent or other the effects on their
bladders. They knew, however, that the lesson was not over yet. If too many
mistakes were earned, and punishments thus required, it would last longer still.
However, to ask permission to, shamefully, use a galvanised bucket at the front
of the classroom before the class earned a penalty of five strokes of Miss
Wang's trainer. If a girl wet herself, however, she received ten strokes of
the cane. Most girls tried to hold out, tried to concentrate on the lesson even
whilst towards the afternoon's end a portion of their minds was fighting to
ignore the burning pain in their bellies.
The sensible ones chose to only drink a minimum to slake their thirst
after laying the tracks in the morning, trying to avoid the need to release it
in the afternoon. Crossing of legs was neither permitted nor a practical
proposition. They could only exercise control to hold themselves back, the
clenching of fists and their bare toes being signs of the inner torment some
might be experiencing. To add to their discomfort, on past performance, they
guessed that the lesson would last an hour more yet.
The unfortunate young Sloane-Ranger, Elaine, had been unable to hold out
and had been forced to use the toilet before the entire class. Now,
interrupting the lesson and wasting time, they all stood before her as she bent
over, touching her toes, her lithesome body folded over to await Miss Wang's
trainer.
The horrid creep, Smith was standing between Rosemary and Lindsey. He
had a hot clammy arm around each of their slim waists, a hand resting casually,
familiarly on their flinching bottoms as he watched the young girl being caned.
His fingers tightened on Rosemary's flesh every time the girl screamed under the
trainer's fiery bite. Then he flicked the clip still swinging daintily from her
nipples making her breath hiss with pain. A week ago she would have slapped his
stupid glasses off his sweaty face, now she simply had to endure.
The horrific thought went through her mind that perhaps Mr Smith might
be the one who would subsequently select her - that he would be her keeper or
master for the duration of her penance. Perhaps he already had Penny locked
away somewhere? She speculated uselessly, shuddering.
A few more exercises followed, bending stretching, bouncing, making
Rosemary even more conscious of her bladder, but it was a further ten minutes
before she could sit down, clenching her muscles as the next lesson began. This
was Arabic, for which Mrs Leilla drilled them in some basics of the spoken
language.
Luckily, the Arab woman was an easier taskmistress than Miss Wang, who
took a break. Also, the simple words were fairly easy to learn and chant back
parrot fashion. The worst aspect for Rosemary was the nagging ache in her
bladder as the lesson dragged inevitably on. It was more an exercise in control
with the full red lips of many of the girls compressed by sharp white teeth,
testifying to a similar torment. Crossing and squeezing her thighs would have
helped but they had to sit with legs blatantly wide so that a row of pink hair
fringed lips winked at the horrid red faced and sweating Mr Smith. Finally
though the lesson was complete, but their torment wasn't.
The final lesson, in posture began with Miss Wang returning and telling
the girls that they were previously too comfortable sitting in those small hard
chairs. Rosemary gave a silent groan, tightening her belly as she clambered up
onto the desk, thighs necessarily gaping to maintain her balance.
Mr Smith leaned forward attentively as the girls squatted on their
desks, thighs splayed wide and quivering to reveal their womanly secrets to his
eager eyes. Rosemary guessed that he had probably never seen such a display of
pink gaping flesh in his life! He seemed to drink in the looks of anguish and
pain on each pretty face as they maintained their awkward balance swaying on the
balls of their feet, their knotted and cramped thigh and calf muscles aching for
release. Meanwhile, Miss Wang strolled casually before her charges, ensuring
they kept their posture.
"Snipper, head up, back straighter, you no a monkey," she laughed at
Linda's discomfort as she forced her posture straighter, before moving onto to
Rosemary.
"You OK Trixie?" she enquired solicitously, her small eyes inches from
the blonde's straining face.
"Yes Miss, thank," you Rosemary gasped.
"Good. Men or women you eventually serve may require you kneel or crouch
for long time at feet, holding drinks or ashtrays or waiting instructions. You
must be able to hold posture for long time, not think about toilet, hold in,
yes. You thank me later," she smiled, stroking the hair back from Rosemary's
shining face, tapping the taut belly. Her eyes were slits of cruelty as she
idly flicked the clips still painfully adorning her nipples, so obviously
relishing the gritted-teeth gasp from her victim. Sliding her hand down the
painfully arched back she patted taut curve of the blonde's bottom before
returning to her seat to chat to Mr Smith.
Finally, their ordeals nearly at an end, each girl had to line up
holding their discarded clothes above their heads. They then had to kiss Mr
Smith goodbye and curtsey to Miss Wang.
"You be good enough to remove her clips please," the youngster asked Mr
Smith, "I sure she thank you.
"Haah, Rosemary gasped, catching her breath from the slimy kiss as his
sweaty, clumsy fingers finally removed the hideous clips sending blood surging
painfully back into her bruised morsels of flesh. "Thank you," she whispered
dutifully before gratefully marching from the room. The smell and touch of the
pervert's hot hands on her but all of her energies were concentrated on holding
herself in.
Relaxation only came when she was able to squat in blissful release over
one of the small toilets in the row, hearing and seeing similar performances
from the other Angels.
TO BE CONTINUED
