High Heeled Hell

This story is meant for adult readers only. It contains imaginary depictions of
graphic violence and ideas that are physically impossible and absurd. It is not
meant to convey or condone the idea of violence or sexual activities involving
anyone under the legal age of consent, nor is it meant to contain
representations of any actual people or institutions. If you qualify to read
this tale and like bizarre fantasies, I hope you enjoy it.   -Aiken

"High-heeled hell" Part I
  By Aiken 1999


Miss Juniper: "Listen up class. Today we will be conducting a dual 
slow-hang with special accessories. We are going to have our victims 
wear very tall high heeled shoes. Heels add awkwardness, difficulty and 
pain as one fights a losing battle with gravity and the noose. And 
higher heels always make the legs look more attractive and sexy. 
Students, don't forget what your hanging manual says: 'Contributing to 
your hangman's pleasure is the prime duty of every hanging victim.' And 
remember, it would be your last chance to make a good impression on both 
him and your audience. (Miss J. gestures out to the classroom, then up 
to the video cameras that encircle the room) In the lucky event your 
hangman chooses to have sex with you during your snuff, you will want to 
look as appealing as possible for everyone concerned."

"I have an announcement to make now that gives me great pleasure. And I 
believe all of you will be thrilled to know it too.... Tiffany and 
Samantha have been good enough to volunteer for today's demonstration."

The class bursts into applause, and a few cheers. Several students reach 
over and congratulate the girls. A couple of the girls give Tiff and Sam 
big supportive hugs and kisses. As usual, there are several tears, lots 
of chatter, and loads of eager smiles. 

In Dana Juniper's second period classroom, where she teaches 
Torture/Snuff Theory II, the identities of her volunteers is kept 
strictly secret right up to the very last minute. By international 
custom, names of anyone volunteering for snuff are never advertised more 
than one day ahead of time, and rarely more than one or two hours. 

There are several very good reasons for this practice.

Though it rarely happens, occasionally someone is owed enough money, 
sex, or some other consideration by the volunteer snuff candidate to 
want to derail the proceedings. The only legal way that can be done is 
to gently talk her out of it. A selfish manipulator or creditor needs 
time to make deals or appeals. The short-term announcement custom allows 
very little time for that to happen. One important benefit of candidacy 
is that all of the volunteer's earthly debts and obligations are wiped 
away. Unfortunately, creditors are never paid, and law prohibits any 
recourse on snuffees' families, insurance policies, spouses, or 
significant others. But that should be a small sacrifice to make for 
perfecting the world's society, especially compared to what the snuff 
candidate is choosing to give up. Naturally all candidates are 
encouraged to pay their debts, but once Invokement occurs, any remaining 
bills are ancient history.

What is Invokement? It is the official point of no return for the snuff 
candidate, and the second reason for the custom. There's no sense 
announcing candidates' names well in advance because there's always a 
chance it will never come off. According to article 4, chapter 3 of the 
Volunteer Snuff Act of 2116, "Any candidate may cancel all agreements 
and change her mind without penalty for any reason, up to the moment 
when, on the designated day and in the presence of her executioner, she 
places herself --or freely allows herself to be placed-- into any 
article of bondage specific to the chosen snuff assignment, such as 
handcuffs, nooses, ankle cuffs, loops, clips, collars, buckles, gags, 
etc. Invokement occurs at that time."

This cancellation privelige is vehemently upheld by law. The slightest 
resistance, or the softest utterance of the word "no" prior to placement 
of the first bond, will cancel the proceedings. Until that moment all 
the officially signed documents in the world are null and void. That 
moment is called  the Invokement. Only then does the candidate becomes 
the snuffee; the volunteer willingly become the victim and property of 
the state. What was once an agreement of candidacy becomes a fully 
binding contract. It is then irrevocable by her or anyone else. Not even 
by the highest judge in the land. 

There is one exception, and one only. The executioner, (any agent or 
body empowered to act as her executioner, and sometimes called the 
moderator) may at his pleasure alter, postpone, or cancel any of the 
terms of her contract. This exception can be waived in advance by the 
candidate, by deselecting it on the agreement, but this is rarely done. 
It is considered good taste to give her executioner this ultimate 
commission. That way if she ever begs him to recant her decision, 
allowing her to live, then it really means something when he simply says 
"no. " 

This "exception" rule performs an important psychological role for the 
candidate, very similar to the it's-ok-to-change-your-mind rule--It 
smooths away any sense of real danger up until the last moment. "What if 
I get scared and can't go thru with it?" she may ask. The reply is 
"That's fine. Until the last second you can always change your mind. You 
can say no any time you like, and for any reason you like..." Or they 
might add, "Besides, even then the moderator could stop an execution if 
you wanted him to. But, why would you want him to do that? It will be so 
intense and erotic, and you'll be so beautiful..."

The days, or weeks, leading up to Invokement can be filled with 
soothing, positive thoughts. The encouragement and support she receives 
from counsellors and family members for being a candidate is very 
nurturing. Volunteer candidates are held in great esteem by society, 
bordering on reverence. She basks in the feeling that all her fantasies 
are about to come true. She is a hero, a role model, a queen, a goddess, 
a sex symbol and a virgin sacrifice all rolled into one. Not to mention 
rich and famous. Her family will receive lavish subsidies for her snuff, 
generated by royalties on the sale of videos, books, magazines and 
posters made from her execution. She can even borrow advances on this 
money from companies who set up split-percentage deals for those 
royalties. And because of the debt-elimination rule, she can live it up 
with no worries of anyone ever having to pay those advances back. Of 
course the hotter she is in her snuff, the more famously her last acts 
will sell. Snuff candidates spend many happy hours working on their 
figure, improving their tan, and perfecting their hair and makeup. And 
masturbating....

When her moment of truth finally arrives, all she needs is a sliver of 
masochistic fire in her loins, or a dab of peer pressure, to push her 
over the ledge. Studies have shown that the intense eroticism of 
voluntary Invokement is so contagious and powerful among candidates, 
peers and audiences alike, that candidates are hardly ever able to 
change their minds. A candidate's desire to feed and satisfy this 
sexuality is enough to overcome her fears, if only for a moment. And one 
moment is all that is needed. Occasionally they'll freeze, like a deer 
caught in the headlights. That's when a moderator's gentle hand cinching 
up a noose, or clicking shut a handcuff, while whispering sweet nothings 
in her ear, is all that is needed. The same result is obtained when an 
authority figure snaps out harsh orders that are meekly obeyed. 
Something like "Ok, bitch, go stand over there and slip your hands into 
the cuffs. Today is your snuff day." It's all according to the 
candidate's personality and sexual makeup, something that is carefully 
researched in advance to determine the most effective approach. In 
either case because no resistance is offered, no foul play will ever be 
seen by the cameras. She will be seen as having "placed herself--or 
freely allowing herself to be placed" into her Invokement. Neat, sweet 
and ready for the final treat.

Then there is the third reason why Miss Juniper waits until the last 
moment to tell her students which one of them is volunteering. Classroom 
attendance. It's been perfect for almost three years, ever since she 
joined the staff. No one would dare cut class and miss the electric 
announcements of who her candidates will be.

Miss Juniper: "Settle down, class. Remember today's grade will count for 
half of your final exams. We have much work to do. Now, about the 
shoes...to grace the lovely feet of our two young ladies, I have chosen 
white patent leather sandals with seven inch heels and two inch 
platforms. This results in a fairly steep five inch arch. Personally, I 
prefer six or seven inches. (gesturing down to her own high heeled boots 
which have a 6 inch arch) But your textbook states that a five inch arch 
is considered the minimum for effective cramping and foot pain during 
long term standing and hanging tortures. So these should be sufficient, 
especially for girls in your age group who may be unaccustomed to 
wearing heels. They buckle securely at the toes and ankles, so our 
victims won't be kicking them off and ending matters too soon. It's time 
to get started, girls. Remove all of your clothing. Then remove your 
sneakers and put on the heels, leaving your socks on. Buckle the shoes 
tightly. This will help somewhat with stability and chafing. The socks 
will help absorb sweat during your struggle, as well as urine and blood 
in later stages of your ordeal. "

Tiffany's and Samantha's eyes are wide with astonishment. Miss J's 
choice of words and her brutal honesty about things like urine and blood 
have caught them off guard. The girls have already turned in their 
permission forms, guaranteeing their family will receive the usual 
generous subsidy offered for educational torture/snuff volunteers. No 
need to sugar coat things now. But they clearly do not know what Miss 
J's plans are, nor have they ever worn slut slippers like the ones she 
had selected for them. Visibly shaking with fear and uncertainty, they 
disrobe and follow the teacher's directions as best they can.

The two girls are nearly the same height, with Tiffany being an inch 
taller at 5 foot, 4 inches. She is a bit thinner than Sam, too. She has 
light brown hair worn in a ponytail, dark brown doe-eyes, and delicate 
facial features. Her most notable attributes are her long legs and her 
beautiful breasts, unusually large ones for a girl of her willowy build. 
She should have been thrilled to have them, but she wasn't. What with 
the other girls envying her, and guys making up nympho rumors about her, 
she often wished she'd been flat-chested. She was pretty nervous around 
boys, and one of the rumours circulated about her was that she only 
liked girls, which wasn't true. She just preferred them. She'd had two 
bisexual relationships, one of them with her classmate, Marcia. She and 
Marcia have enjoyed delicious sex many times together during the past 
two years.

Samantha is a petite curvaceous brunette with a slightly olive 
complexion, hazel eyes and a button nose. Guys are crazy about her, and 
she's crazy about them, which explains why she dates so often. Sam's 
kept a pretty good reputation, in spite of letting lots of boys take her 
all the way. She's very proud of her oral skills. Due to frequent 
practice she gives one of the best blowjobs in the entire school.

The girls had volunteered to hang together because they had always 
wanted to experience a slow-hang. They'd watched Miss Juniper conduct 
more than a dozen of them, and considered it the most erotic and 
beautifully graceful snuff imaginable. They also wanted to experience it 
while they were still under 115 lbs. The lighter victims always seemed 
to last about a half hour longer, and usually experienced more orgasms. 
Such performances are highly prized on the snuff video market.

But Miss J.'s tone was frightening them. She seemed a little too serious 
and businesslike about the shoes and all that foot pain. What blood 
could she be talking about if they were going to slow-hang? They sensed 
that something was terribly wrong....but they weren't sure what. Both 
girls started thinking about a cancellation. But Miss Juniper moved too 
quickly. She had their hands tied up with rope before they could voice 
any concern. Her snuff setup today was very special. It had never been 
demonstrated to her class before.

With the anxious girls properly shod and their hands tied behind them, a 
sturdy rope is drawn thru a pulley in the ceiling. The rope has a noose 
at each end which is looped around each soft neck. The girls stand below 
it on a steel platform that is set into the floor. The platform is 
motorized, and can be raised or lowered by minute increments with an 
electric control. The platform is lowered just to the point where both 
girls must lift up on their heels to allay the sensation of choking. 
Eventually their legs and feet will tire, and they will begin to hang 
not just themselves, but each other. Any time one girl shifts her 
weight, or slips on her heels, they'll both feel the eye-bulging panic 
of strangulation, until balance is restored, and they regain their stiff 
tiptoe-hanging composure. Miss J. was always full of surprises. She had 
designed this snuff to be an agonizingly long process, much longer that 
the two girls had ever bargained for. It could last almost indefinitely 
if a hangman intended it to.....

But, what if Miss J suddenly announces that today is "Creativity Day"? 
Once or twice a year she allows her class to offer suggestions regarding 
her torture/snuff demonstrations. It's always a surprise announcement, 
and her students are more than eager to participate. At least the ones 
who aren't being snuffed. The theory is that the girls' snuff papers 
have been signed and filed and their fate is properly sealed. Their 
official method of execution has been duly recorded, but the actual 
procedure used and all the delightful details are up to them, just as 
they are for any professional executioner. It's sort of a pop test 
involving theory, application, and lab skills. Their grade depends on 
how accurate, insightful, and painful their suggestions are.

Her victims never know Creativity Day is coming until they are already 
tied up and past the point of no return. Creativity Day terrifies even 
consensual snuffees enough to make them wish they could change their 
minds. Too late! After the usual tears and begging Miss J calmly reminds 
them that Invokement has already occurred. There's no such thing as 
backing out now, no matter how they feel about it. She wipes their tears 
away, saying that no matter how cruel the ideas are, there will always 
be significant pleasures too....at least for someone. She will moderate 
which choices are enacted, and the proceedings are videotaped from every 
angle to ensure that proper grades are given.

Let's say that today is Creativity Day for Tiffany and Samantha! 

After drawing the doomed girls onto their high-heeled tiptoes, Miss J 
starts out with a classroom vote to determine if the snuffing will be 
swift or last till the end of the day. Funny, they hardly ever choose 
the swifter method. Suggestions are then taken in turn from the 
students, including the idea, the method of performing it, and the 
intended or expected result.

Suggestions range from mild, to wicked, to purely diabolical...

Henry: "How about putting a few thumbtacks inside those sexy sandals, I 
bet a little superglue on the heads would hold them in place. It would 
make their balancing act a little bit tougher..."

Both girls stare back at their classmates, gurgling softly, their eyes 
pleading and full of pain. Samantha starts to say something, but Miss J 
quickly taps the platform control a couple of times, effectively 
stopping the girls speech.

Miss J:  "That's pretty good, Henry. Crude, but good. I'm looking for 
subtlety though. Here are two girls whose throats are lashed 
together....their necks are already being gently stretched. In a matter 
of hours, or maybe days, they would be dead, even if we did nothing. In 
the meantime what else could we do? Marcia?" 

Marcia: "I've always liked Tiffany, she's really sweet. But her breasts 
came in first, and they are so much bigger than mine. How about we hang 
some heavy weights from them? Then the more she struggles the more they 
will hurt...."

Tiffany, still standing at rope drawn attention, looks at her lover's 
betrayal in horror, tries to say something, but it is unintelligible.

Chad: "Yeah, but first let's wrap them up with barbed wire at the base. 
I saw that in a video once and that girl really felt it. She was 
bawling. Those tits were bleeding and turning blue." 

Miss J:  "That's worth some pain points for both of you. But I'm still 
looking for something inventive.... Remember.... two girls....what you 
do to one, you must do to the other. Barbara?"

Barbara: "I think the barbed wire idea sounds great. Brutal and 
delicious. So let's just forget the weights. Lift one foot from each of 
the girls between the legs of the other, and tie it back to the breast 
wires on the other girl. Now you have symmetrical punishment for each 
girls breasts, caused by the other girl's movement. And you make their 
effort not to choke to death more challenging by standing on one foot."

Miss J:  "Excellent idea, Barbara. Bonus points for you. But class, 
wouldn't that shorten the fun? The one foot would tire out much faster 
than two, don't you think?. Yes, Blake?"

Blake: "Not necessarily, Ma'am. Not if you connect slender manacle 
chains on each girls feet, allowing them at most...about thirty inches 
between left and right, and then run it thru a ring that is attached to 
the other girls breast wires, by another chain, carefully measured to 
allow only one foot to be down at any one time. The girls could hop from 
one foot to the other when one leg gets tired. They might even live 
longer that way than on both feet.

Miss J:  "Now we are getting somewhere, class! Bonus points for Blake. 
Each foot hop will punish our victims nicely, at their noosed necks, 
around their barb wired breasts, and on their highly arched and 
thumbtacked feet! (she illustrates these areas by light taps with her 
pointer stick) Let's all take a bathroom break and when we get back in 
15 minutes, we will talk about putting our ideas into action. You've 
already voted on letting our girls survive until five oclock today. So 
we'll have about an hour and a half to get all of the girls' tortures in 
place before lunchtime. The later classes can watch our victims' 
progress throughout the afternoon, and even engage them in sex along the 
way. Believe it or not, there will still be some ways that can be done. 
I will demonstrate that also in the next hour. Hurry along now."

Before heading into the hallway with her class Miss J reaches for her 
lipstick and applies a fresh coat to her lips. Then she strokes a thick 
layer of the creamy red gloss onto the lips of both her suffering 
victims. "That looks so much better," she says, patting Samantha gently 
on the cheek, "Nothing dries out a girls lips like slow strangulation." 
After carefully applying the cosmetic to Tiffany's trembling lips Miss 
J's fingers play happily around the noose where it digs into the girl's 
vocal cords. "You're doing very nicely, dear." she whispers into her 
ear, "You're doing exactly what you're supposed to do. But don't try to 
talk. Try to save your strength for later. If you two girls last like I 
think you will, this demonstration video will be the stuff of legends." 
She kisses Tiffany sweetly on the lips, and looks into her eyes. "You'll 
be famous... " she smiles. 

Miss Juniper nonchalantly reaches for the control, bumps the platform 
down another notch, and walks off to join her students in the hallway. 
The girls both gasp in pain as the added tension pulls their nooses a 
little tighter, drawing them up a bit higher on their tiptoes. Tears are 
streaming down their cheeks. And they know that far worse is yet to 
come...


End of part I
© 1999, Aiken

"High-heeled hell" Part II
   By Aiken 1999

 "Alright, class," Miss Juniper called out, "Get to your desks quickly, 
we haven't much time to prepare our victims for their long day on the 
noose." The commotion in the room died off quickly, as her students got 
seated and shushed one another's' excited whispers. Most of them had 
seen Miss J's hanging exercises before, but only a few had experienced 
the surprise announcement of Creativity Day, where extra torments are 
added to a snuff candidate's dance, culled from the sadistic 
imaginations of her own friends and classmates.

It had been nearly a year since she had last conducted Creativity Day. 
In addition to numerous other torments, that class chose to employ 
branding irons. They impaled their victim all over her body with slender 
red hot pokers. They slipped them thru her breasts, her asscheeks, 
anywhere they could think of. Not even the tongue was spared of their 
once-consentual snuff victim named Sara. The cruelty and long duration 
of that demonstration had been legendary. Nothing inspired such 
fascination in the hallways than stories of the agony Sara endured. And 
nothing held such terror for a snuff volunteer than the possibility that 
Miss J. would pick their day for such brutal creativity exercises.

Many in the school suspected that Miss J. walked a fine line with the 
law and the school administration. Most school's snuff classes in their 
state conducted rather humane executions. But Miss J's contention was 
that real life executioners are a ruthless, unpredictable lot, and at a 
whim are subject to use any range of extreme tortures on their victims. 
Her class deserved to understand some of those extremes, to better 
prepare the girls for what they might see or experience later in life. 
There was never any rhyme or reason why some girls should suffer more 
than others, and to illustrate that fact, Miss J would spring Creativity 
Days when least expected, and upon girls who were as sweet and well 
liked as any other. It was rather like an anti-lottery, where her rare 
winners became the biggest losers.

"You've chosen to let Samantha and Tiffany last until school closes 
today," Miss J continued, "That's about six more hours. It's almost 
10:30 now and by 11:30, based on your ideas, we should have them in an 
almost unbearable predicament."

"Our immediate activities will require a bit of slack in their composure 
so I will let them down a bit from their nooses." Miss J said, tapping 
her electronic control several times. The steel platform in the floor 
rose up a couple of inches, allowing the girls' highly arched feet to 
rest securely on the floor once again. The spasms in their calves and 
ankles, and the painful grip of the nooses, which had tormented them for 
the past forty-five minutes, was now relieved, and they sucked in great 
gasps of air. Their shoulders relaxed from the ramrod stiffness every 
slow-hanging victim must maintain. They blinked away tears and sobbed 
out their thanks for a chance to rest and breathe freely again.

"Don't thank us yet, girls, "Miss J warned, "We'll be lifting you up 
onto your tiptoes again soon enough. But by all means enjoy your free 
breathing for the moment. Henry, Tina I want you to undo the buckles at 
the toes of their platform heels and place six or seven thumbtacks 
inside each of their shoes. Here's a tube of superglue you can use to 
make sure the tacks stay anchored in their shoes under the balls of 
their feet. Hold each tack for about two minutes while the glue sets. 
When you are done with the tacks you may press their feet down onto the 
tacks. Be firm about it and don't hesitate. When you're all done 
rebuckle their toe straps very tightly." Henry and Tina eagerly began 
their task.

"Please," Samantha begged, her small voice quaking with tears, "Miss 
Juniper, we know we volunteered. We want to hang. We've always wanted to 
hang, and slowly... but...not like this.... Not with every cruel thing 
you and our friends can imagine. And you're bribing them to do it with 
grades..." 

"Can we just forget about the slow part?" Tiffany echoed, "I thought 
slow-hang would mean an hour or so, not all day , and not with these 
murderous heels on.  Oh, please just do us quickly, ma'am." Tiffany 
pleaded, "And why do all those other awful things to us? We're 
completely consentual. We promise to be good and play to the 
cameras....we'll do anything you say..."

"Of course you'll play to the cameras, my dear," Miss Juniper 
cood,"You'll have to. And you've always been model students, too. But 
that doesn't change anything. You signed the papers and stood beneath 
the noose, didn't you? So now it's completely out of your hands. You're 
in for the full experience,  no matter what form it takes. Besides, 
you're not supposed to worry about anything....Teacher knows best. Be 
quiet now, or I'll strap my special ringgags on you. Remember the huge 
rings we read about last month that extrude razorsharp spikes all around 
into your cheeks and tongue? That anchors the gag in here very nicely. 
(tracing her fingernail around Tiffany's sensuously painted lips) Just 
imagine, the largest cocks in school sliding into your throat without 
the slightest difficulty or resistance. And without ANY complaining... I 
special ordered them just for this class.... And I've been waiting for 
the right occasion to try them out. Am I making myself clear?" The 
terrified girls were suddenly silent following Miss J's ominous words.

"Marcia, you and Barbara go to the supply closet. You'll find spools of 
barbed wire in there, some plain wire, some wire pliers and wire 
cutters. Careful with those barbs, so you don't get cut. They are nearly 
one half inch long, with dagger points, and there are lots of them. 
Start wrapping the wire around our victims' breasts. I know you've been 
close friends with our victims for most of your lives. That's why I've 
chosen you. Friendships must never stand in the way of a proper, 
consentual snuffing. I want you to create tight wire brassieres, with 
the barbs pressed all the way in. Once around the back...a couple of 
times around each breast...and up over the shoulders. Connect everything 
together nice and neat with the regular wire and tighten it up good with 
the pliers. Show me your stuff girls. I don't want to see any slack at 
all in these bras; I want to see their boobs sticking out as far as 
possible. Meanwhile, Blake and Chad, begin constructing the manacle 
chains we discussed that will connect the victims feet to their barb 
wired breasts. You'll find all the chains and tools necessary in the two 
top drawers next to the state flag. Miss J took her position sitting on 
the corner of her desk about 15 feet from her victims. She crossed her 
long legs casually and relaxed, watching her excited students go into 
action.

This was the place Miss J. liked to sit when she gave her lectures. From 
this position she could give all her students a good look at her legs. 
Twenty nine year old Dana Juniper was a great looking lady and she knew 
it. A shapely 128 pound auburn-haired beauty, she stood about 5 foot 5, 
but no one had ever seen her at that height. She was never without her 
high heels. She even slept in them, and bathed in high-heeled rubber 
boots. She'd had a lifelong fetish for legs, heels and feet. She 
especially delighted in making the boys get horny watching her rock her 
crossed legs and wiggle her heels all around. Once their cocks were 
fully erect she would ask them to bring her one of the reference books 
from the back shelf, or adjust the thermostat. She loved picking out the 
foot fetishists in her class and tormenting them in various ways. As far 
as she was concerned, every class she taught was Foot Fetish 101.

A good number of her fetish students were girls, too. The two darlings 
standing on her slow-hang platform were two such examples. She'd been 
watching them get excited by her foot tricks for the last couple of 
years. They went into absolute erotic trances sometimes when she fussed 
with her nylons or readjusted her shoe buckles several times in a row. 
That was the exact reason she concocted the high heel aspects of their 
hanging torture, and surprised them with it. In the extensive 
pre-candidacy interviews she conducted with them they admitted to having 
been so turned on by watching her in heels that they sometimes went 
straight home, put on their mother's tallest heels, and masturbated. 
That was the moment she decided to make their snuff something very 
different from what they expected. A snuff that compressed a lifetime of 
foot fetish torment into a single day, and illustrated the sublime 
powers of the high heeled shoe.

"Remember, class, our girls are feeling lots of remorse right about now. 
They are terribly frightened and would no doubt like to withdraw their 
choice of being our snuff volunteers. That is of no concern to us. They 
freely chose this day to be snuffed. Undoing that decision is no longer 
an option for them. Likewise you have chosen to make their death a slow 
and agonizing one, as is your right. Just as it would be if any one of 
you were delivered into the hands of an experienced professional 
hangman, there is no turning back. So do not hesitate or be drawn into 
false pity for them. That will only delay our timetable and adversely 
effect your grade." Far from hesitating, Miss J's students dove 
cheerfully into their assignments. They were as charged with fascination 
as their former classmates-turned-victims were struck with fear.

"Shhh. I'm sorry Tiff..." Marcia whispered to a softly sobbing Tiffany, 
as she tightened the wires around the poor girls breasts. "Try to be 
still now....I know we've been lovers, but I've got to get a good grade 
in this class to make up for my lousy midterms. She wants these big tits 
of yours sticking out hard and straight....and truthfully.....so do I! 
Sorry, hon, this whole thing has got me so excited I can barely stand 
it. You'd feel the same way about it if you were me. You know you would. 
I'm gonna miss you, Baby. Remember all the fun we had torturing Sara, 
and watching all the other girls get snuffed?  Remember how we'd go 
straight home, put on your mom's heels and make love for hours? I often 
thought it would be me volunteering first, or we'd both go out together, 
but I was always too damn scared Miss J would pull a C. D. on my ass. 
Then you went and did it...went and signed the papers. One chance out of 
forty or fifty, and you pulled the duty. That's the breaks, girlfriend. 
Oh well, this won't last forever. Maybe Miss J has some kind of big 
pleasure planned for you later? She often does that, and you might 
really get into it then. But even if she doesn't, it won't matter. By 
sundown you'll be long gone. Hang in there, sugar. Here we go...." 

Marcia leaned in close and kissed Tiffany softly on the lips while she 
kept twisting on the breast wires. Soon the room filled with anguished 
screams as dozens of vicious wire barbs pierced the smooth flesh of her 
breasts, sides, shoulders and back. Moments later Samantha made the same 
baleful noises at the hands of her lifelong friend Barbara. Soon 
afterward both girls cried out desperately as their feet were driven 
down onto sharp thumbtacks, then wept pitifully as Henry and Tina 
rebuckled their cruelly arched shoes. A short time later Blake and Chad 
finished adjusting their ankle chains and manacles, so that only one 
high heeled shoe could be perched on the floor at any one time. It was 
done! All the tortures the class envisioned  had been put into place in 
less than an hour. The students quickly put their tools and supplies up, 
then hurried back to their seats to watch the show.

"Observe closely, class," said Miss J, "Soon their lovely dance will 
begin." Each student studied the girls in silent fascination. Both 
Tiffany and Samantha were trembling and sweating profusely. As each 
punctured foot grew tired and shaky, the girls had to hop onto the other 
foot drawing the weary foot up behind them. Their hops exacted a painful 
toll on their feet, driving the tacks in deeper with each jump. The 
ankle chains slid thru loops clipped tightly to the opposite girls 
breast wires, so fresh torment was delivered to the other girl's breasts 
with each hop. Blood was trickling freely from the wire punctures around 
their breasts, shoulders and backs. Bloody spots were also showing up on 
the white socks that Miss J instructed them to wear under the platform 
sandals.

The class stared spellbound as the hopping continued. The girls kept 
trying to prepare for the pain of jumping onto the other foot. They 
tried to anticipate rebalancing themselves. But each time they were 
unsuccessful. Each time they stumbled awkwardly in their heels, tugging 
horribly against the wires and ropes. The agony in their feet was 
unbearable each time the next foot slammed down, but the cruel barbs 
digging into their tender breasts were far worse. The girls cried out, 
gagging on their nooses. They cursed, bargained and begged for 
deliverance, all the time postponing that dreadful next hop. The pain 
and hopelessness of their situation was clearly driving them mad. Nearly 
twenty minutes of this torture tableau went by without a word being 
spoken by their teacher or fellow students.

At length, Miss J whispered to her students. "Beautiful, isn't it, 
class? There's nothing they can do but participate in their own 
torture...for as long as we want them to. Listen, class, I know you are 
excited beyond description by the exceptional torture we are witnessing 
here. I certainly am. I can see it in every one of your eyes. I 
understand completely. Those of you who need to.... may....well....they 
may relieve themselves if they choose to. You won't be chastised for 
bringing yourself off at the sight of this unique and lovely 
demonstration."

The students needed no further encouragement. Girls and boys alike put 
their hands into their pants and rubbed themselves furiously. They 
didn't care about sticky underwear. They didn't care about an 
embarrassing smell. They were overwhelmed with sadistic lust. They were 
at the bursting point already, and almost immediately, students' cries 
of pleasure joined the victims' cries of pain. Every single one of them 
was climaxing deliriously, including Miss J. In mid-climax Miss J 
suddenly realized that the video recording this historic moment would 
certainly lead to thousands, if not millions, of additional orgasms 
throughout the world. And the day was still so young.... 

Echoes of this wicked thought sent her into orbit again. She experienced 
a long series of multiple orgasms, possibly the most she'd ever known. 
Miss J.'s cries of pleasure were among the loudest in the room. She 
might have been embarrassed had it not been for the fact that everyone 
else seemed to be coming with the same intensity. At long last everyone 
had finished masturbating, and the room was again filled with only the 
regular sounds of two ordinary girls being tortured on their high heels. 
The almost rhythmic cadence of them slowly groaning, then jumping and 
clicking, then suddenly screaming, shuffling and sobbing. Over and over 
again. For several more minutes, everyone basked in a rich sexual 
afterglow, enchanted anew by the sights and sounds of Tiffany's and 
Samantha's ordeal.

Finally, Miss J. broke their awed silence. "Congratulations, class." she 
said softly, still trying to catch her breath, "I have to say this is 
one of the most imaginative situations ever proposed at any of my 
Creativity Days. Nice breast wiring, too, girls. I didn't see a bit of 
hesitation out of any of you. Each and every one of you will receive top 
grades for this. I will even propose a special bonus for the victims' 
families for the terrific job these girls are doing, trying to cope with 
this brilliant torture. Now give yourselves a big round of applause." 
All the students clapped enthusiastically. Except for the two pitiful 
victims of course, who remained trapped, intermittently hopping inside 
their high-heeled hell.

As the clapping subsided, Miss J looked at her watch. "It's time for 
lunch," she said cheerfully, "We ran out of time before I was able to 
demonstrate some of the sexual possibilities here. That will have to 
wait until later. Most of you have other classes during the afternoon, 
but all of you are invited to come back here after your last class. That 
will be at 3:30, and I promise to keep both girls alive till then. You 
can witness their last hour and a half here on earth, and participate in 
their grand finale. I have some surprises planned, too. In the meantime, 
class is dismissed. Great work, everyone!"

The bell went off and the students hurried out noisily into the hallway. 
Miss J walked up to the girls and asked tenderly if there was anything 
she could do for them. "K-Kill us, please," Samantha said through her 
tears, "I can't take anymore of this hell. It's never going to end...Oh, 
please...please..."

"Oh...no no no," Miss Juniper replied, "Not a chance. You have the lunch 
hour, and three more classes to go. And of course the after school 
period...until 5 o'clock. That's when it will end. In the meantime you 
can take lots more. You'll see. This is the way your classmates voted to 
conduct your snuff. The pain you are experiencing is only the artful 
result of your friends' careful consideration. You have no idea the 
amount of delicious pleasure you're going to bring everyone. They 
mustn't be cheated now, and neither must you."

"You fucking bastards," Tiffany groaned in hopeless anguish, 
"Masturbating to our pain like that....Marcia was my friend....and she 
stuck these wires into my tits. She didn't have a problem twisting them 
in as hard as she could....She was loving it. Telling me all about 
it.... That bitch was always jealous of my tits...wanted hers to be as 
big as mine... All we wanted was a nice slow-hang, like a million others 
have had, and you cheated us....gave us this......oh, it's horrible!

"Now Tiffany," Miss J replied sweetly, "Don't say such things. Of course 
she was your friend. And she still is. We all are, and we love you 
dearly. We still have our jobs to do, though. And so do you. You chose 
this assignment, remember? You picked the slow-hang snuff, an A plus, 
and a rich subsidy for your family. We've just added a little bit more 
to your fantasy. A little bit more of your favorite fetish....Is it too 
much for you dear? Have we taken it too far? Well, don't blame me or 
your classmates. You knew my rules. You knew there was always the chance 
of a surprise. The possibility of Creativity Day. And still you signed 
up...even got on my waiting list to do it.... Remember Sara? Remember 
Annette and Jackie? You participated in all of them, and they were 
delightful surprises. Well, sweetheart, you and Samantha are fast 
becoming the best surprise of all. And I promise you that snuff fans 
will adore you, and climax at the sight of you a hundred years from this 
day. You need to be strong now... It's a long way until 5 o'clock."

"I can see that I'll have to use those awful ringgags on you after all. 
It's for your own good, really. They don't allow any obscenities on 
classroom videos. Oh! We mustn't forget ....this is supposed to be a 
slow hanging demonstration, so I better snug up those neck ropes for 
you."

The casually sadistic teacher then took her control box out and smoothly 
lowered the platform a couple of inches. The ropes at their necks grew 
taut once more and lifted them each onto a single agonized tiptoe. 
Immediately they were plunged back into the familiar agony of slow 
strangulation. Only now it was made far made more painful by the cruel 
disturbances their toe-hops induced.

"Here, let me fix up your lips again," she said sweetly to the girls, as 
if they had anything to say about that decision, "All that crying and 
pleading has worn your lipstick down a bit." When she was satisfied that 
their lip color looked fresh and perfect enough for the cameras, she 
applied another coat of the bright red creme to her own lips, closed up 
the tube and popped it back into her purse. "There, all pretty again," 
Miss J chirped, as she walked to the door. "See you after lunch, ladies, 
I'll be sure to have your ringgags ready for you then. You'll be needing 
them, I'm sure. Fourth period is loaded with hot sweaty jocks right 
after their workouts. When they get a look at you two, dangling there in 
your red lipstick and your slutty shoes, I promise they'll be more than 
eager to take your minds off of present problems."

Their faces slick with tears, the tormented girls could only gurgle and 
groan helplessly in response. They knew heir fate was sealed, but it 
would be a long, long time before they would be allowed any rest... of 
that they were certain.


End of part II
© 1999, Aiken

"High-heeled hell" Part III
   By Aiken 1999

The bell rang signifying the end of the lunch hour as Miss Juniper's 4th 
period students stood crowded around the door to her classroom. "I trust 
everyone enjoyed their lunch," Miss Juniper said cheerfully as she 
approached the doorway, her high heels clicking sharply against the tile 
floors of the hallway, "Sorry I had to lock the door. I couldn't allow 
anyone to tamper with our class project."

Miss Juniper turned the door key and allowed the throng to rush noisily 
inside. "Students, get to your seats quickly" she called out. "We have 
much more to accomplish with our volunteers."

"Ooooh, look at that," Karin whispered to her friend Shara, "Tiff and 
Sam are in a brutal slow-hang, just like Marcia and Chad were telling 
us."

"Yeah, but it looks like their hanging is the easiest part of it," said 
Shara, "Their breasts are in terrible shape with those wire harnesses. 
And look how they're trembling all over in pain. They've been bleeding 
too. Omigosh, Karin, look at those heels they're trying to balance in... 
Mmmm, that's got to hurt. Shara felt a shiver run up her spine and a 
tingle of arousal in her loins. She'd always fantasized about being a 
slow hanging victim. And she dreamed constantly of wearing high heels 
like that. She could barely believe her two friends had chosen to hang. 
But they were having to endure their hanging, while endlessly skittering 
on high-heeled tiptoes. This was the kind of cruelty that only Miss 
Juniper's Creativity Days could dish out. Shara and Karin had a ringside 
seat to this erotic torture and snuff, and a chance to get a good finals 
grade to boot. It was a lousy deal for Tiffany and Samantha, but a 
pretty good deal for Shara and the others.

"Hey Shar, you know what I heard?"  Karin whispered excitedly, " Miss J. 
is planning to let the jocks work them over later. You know...snuff sex!"

"Oh God," Shara replied, "I can't wait to see that!"

"Be quiet for a moment, students," said Miss J., shooting a sharp look 
at the two whispering girls, " unless you'd like to join these two up 
here on the platform. "I need to assess the condition of our two lovely 
volunteers...."

"Let's see.." said Miss Juniper, looking closely into Tiffany and 
Samantha's faces. Their eyes were opened wide in terror, blinking away 
tears and sweat. "Still quite conscious, I see. From the redness of the 
faces and their ragged breathing they appear to be in the second stages 
of asphyxia. These nooses are quite snug. They can still gulp small bits 
of air but only with great effort...and pain. We could conceivably keep 
them at this stage almost indefinitely. Or until complete exhaustion 
claims them, perhaps in a day or two."

Tiffany was desperately working her lips, trying to whisper something to 
Miss J. "Shhhh. Shhhh. Calm down, Tiff. You're in good hands...." Miss J 
said soothingly. The teacher stroked her cheek, giving her a sympathetic 
smile. She slowly began to kiss the girl. The teacher went gently at 
first, just pecking at the girl's trembling lips, which had been painted 
a rich glossy red. She continued, kissing her more deeply and earnestly. 
Miss J. started squeezing the girl's breasts as she continued the kiss, 
mauling them inside their wire prisons, and causing her victim to arch 
her back in terrible agony. Finally Miss J. broke it off, and Tiffany 
fell back into her slow-hanging dilemma, her eyes bulging silently with 
unfathomable pain.

"Mmmmm, that was delicious, Tiff...." she said. She took out her 
lipstick and mirror and carefully retouched her lips. Then she reached 
over to the pitiful girl and repainted her lips too, buttering them 
thoroughly with the dark red lipstain. "Remember, class, she's at a 
place now where every tiny breath is vital to maintaining her life. If I 
had continued kissing her like that she would have died rather quickly. 
I was very tempted, too.....no kiss tastes as sweet as when sipped from 
a strangling girls lips." 

Miss Juniper put her lipstick away and turned back to her class. "Girls, 
when the day comes for each of you to give that special kiss, please 
remember how much pleasure you are affording your hangman. That, in 
turn, will give you supreme pleasure. Now, our two volunteers have been 
gently hanging here like this, perched on their high heeled tiptoes for 
the last couple of hours. These platform heels they are wearing cause 
terrible cramping in their toes and calves. It must be excruciating, 
right girls? But as you must know by now we are conducting Creativity 
Day exercises here. And mere excruciating is not enough."

"My last class devised some extra distractions for these girls." Miss J. 
continued, tapping different spots with her long pointer stick as she 
spoke. "They glued thumbtacks inside these pretty shoes here. They can 
only hold one foot down at a time. This explains why our girls dread so 
much having to switch feet when one little foot grows too tired to bear 
their weight, which is fairly often." Her pointer stick gently traced 
its way up Samantha's ankle chain to where it slipped thru the large 
loop at the end of another chain that continued up between Tiffany's 
legs, connecting finally to the wires wrapped at the base of Tiffany's 
enormous breasts. Breasts that were impaled in dozens of places by sharp 
barbs, and were looking fairly gruesome and blue. "Elegant, isn't it? 
You can see that any movement they make tugs rudely against the opposite 
girl's breastwork. These barb wire brassieres that my enthusiastic third 
period students constructed are digging in very nicely. Their breasts 
are bleeding a fair amount now, and must be in enormous pain. In fact, 
I'll bet these two have never felt any pain quite like it. Have you 
girls?"

Tiffany and Samantha opened their jaws and tried to answer her, but 
could only get out a few anguished gurgles. 

"Would you like to be let down for a while now, girls?" Miss J 
continued, "I'll bet you could use a little rest, couldn't you...? Both 
girls tried their best to nod their heads in agreement. "Don't you 
realize that it will be even harder to resume hanging later? It will be 
more difficult for you in the long run, but Ok. We have to keep you both 
going for nearly four more hours, til 5 PM, so we can take a little 
sidetrip in today's demonstrations."

Miss Juniper tapped her electric control a few times raising the steel 
platform the girls were barely standing on, allowing them to bring their 
shoes (one each) back into full contact with the floor. Their teacher 
continued raising the platform until the ropes slackened at their necks 
somewhat, and they could breathe almost freely again.

"That's enough for now." said Miss J, "We have to keep a little tension 
on those throats. This isn't a reprieve after all, just a delay."

Shara Simmonds, I would like you to open that box that is sitting on my 
desk. Withdraw the two items that are inside it and hold them up to the 
class.

Shara was a little shocked when Miss Juniper called out her name, but 
recovered quickly. She went to the teacher's desk, opened the box and 
let out a sigh. Inside it was a pair of extremely tall white patent 
leather platform heels, identical to the shoes Tiffany and Samantha were 
wearing. With a strange tingle, she drew out the shoes and held them up 
to the class. The classroom oohed and aahhed. Shara had always been 
excited by heels like this. She had never worn any, just seen them in 
movies and magazines. She didn't know what to do next and gave her 
teacher a questioning look.

"Shara, I want you to assist me in the next stages of our demonstration. 
I've recently decided that my girls should always wear proper attire 
when they help me. Those sexy shoes are part of the attire I have 
selected. Do you like those shoes, Shara?"

"Yes Ma'am, I do." answered Shara, dreamily, "Very much."

"Do you want to be my assistant today, and wear them for me?"

Shara was filled with both excitement and fear. Her heart was drumming: 
her mind reeling with questions and concerns. But all she could manage 
to say was, "Uh...sure, Miss Juniper! I'd love to be your helper. 
But....I just.... well, I mean....I won't end up like them, will I?

"Of course not, dear," Miss Juniper laughed, "I promise you won't end up 
like them. In fact, they haven't even ended up like them...yet. They are 
living out a consentual fantasy that took months of preparation. I just 
need you to help me take these girls' torture to the next level. In 
addition to your performing rather simple tasks for me, I want you to 
describe certain things to your classmates. Things that our victims 
would be unable to tell us, that you would see from up close. And also 
with your.... personal perspectives, since I know that a slow-hang snuff 
is your favorite fantasy as well."  Shara blushed and nodded. She forgot 
that Miss J. had ordered extensive personality profiles on all her 
students at the beginning of the year. 

"I need you to sign this short consent form. We'll be handling some 
dangerous items up here, and this will protect the school in case you 
have an accident and hurt yourself."

Shara was quivering a little bit as she signed the form. This whole 
thing was so weird. But she was so completely turned on she could hardly 
stand it. She handed it back to her teacher and looked to her for 
further instructions.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Miss J. smiled, as she tucked the form into a 
file folder on her desk. "Now I want you to put on the shoes. However, 
you must remove all of your clothing first. I want my assistant to dress 
exactly as our victims are dressed."

"Oh, gosh....Ok..," Shara stuttered, "Uh, do I keep my socks on, 
teacher, just like them?"

"That's correct," replied her teacher, "Keep your socks on just like 
them. And be sure to buckle your heels on very firmly."

Shara was a bundle of nerves but she knew she had a great body, and 
proudly took off her blouse and bra. As her smooth perfect breasts came 
into view, everyone could see her nipples were fully erect with 
excitement and arousal. A murmur of appreciation went through the 
classroom. Smiling impishly back at her classmates, she slipped her 
skirt and panties off and kicked off her oxfords. Then, squatting down, 
she carefully slipped the platform shoes on over her white ankle socks. 
She smoothed the straps lovingly around her ankles and toes, and buckled 
them as snugly as her teacher had instructed. They were obviously a 
perfect fit.

"OK, um....I guess I'm all set," Shara said. She stood and started to 
walk around a little bit, but wobbled awkwardly and nearly fell. "Oohh, 
these things are really tall."

"They'll take some getting used to..." Miss Juniper answered, a bit 
distantly. She was opening a couple of drawers on the opposite side of 
her desk. "Shara, I think everyone has noticed how erect those nipples 
of yours are. "Would you please tell the class how you are feeling at 
this moment? I want you to be very explicit. Take as long as you need to 
describe your feelings thoroughly."

"Um? Yeah, I uh...I guess I'm really feeling pretty turned on right now. 
My nipples are hard enough to pop, but it's not because I am cold. I am 
feeling hot all over my body. My....uh, my vagina, is feeling real wet 
and tingly too. I guess I've always had a submissive streak. And I 
fantasize constantly about wearing shoes like these. Miss Juniper's high 
heels have fascinated me ever since I transferred here last year. Now 
that I'm finally getting to wear some tall platforms, it's feels really 
great. They are very hard to stand in, but they make me feel so sexy and 
womanly. It's funny.....wearing them with socks and nothing else is like 
being more naked than naked. I've never been nude in front of so many 
people before. Everyone seems to be enjoying me like this....You're all 
smiling.....I just hope I am making you happy right now?"

Several students let out hearty "Yeah's" and "Mmm-hmm's" followed by a 
small commotion of whistles and giggles. They were definitely enjoying 
Shara's high-heeled nakedness. But many of them were more absorbed by 
her narrative. They all quieted down after a moment. Shara resumed her 
speech, absentmindedly rubbing her breasts and inner thighs every so 
often, while Miss J. continued to tinker around inside her desk. 

"I am shaking a little bit up here. I guess because I'm scared or 
something. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because I don't know exactly 
what is going to happen, or how I am supposed to help with this 
demonstration. That's making me pretty nervous. Or maybe It's because 
two of my friends are being slowly tortured to death just a few feet 
away from me. They're in an awful fix, but they still have hours to go 
before they'll be allowed to die. I really doubt they had this much 
suffering in mind when they volunteered to slow-hang. They must be 
terribly frightened right now. It's funny..... I feel kind of sad for 
them, but my excitement about what is happening to them is many times 
stronger than my sympathy for them. I really don't know if that is 
normal or not, or even if it's right or not. Still, that's the way I 
feel...."

"Thank you for picking me to help, Miss Juniper, and letting me wear 
these lovely shoes. I guess that's about it for now, Ma'am." Shara 
concluded. 

"Well done, Shara," Miss Juniper said walking around from behind her 
desk. She held a small box in her hands and a couple of lengths of rope. 
"That was a lovely and honest description given of your feelings at this 
moment. And yes, the feelings you told us about are absolutely normal, 
and absolutely right. Turn around, darling."

"Miss Juniper?" Shara asked.

"Yes, Dear." Her teacher responded.

"Uh.... are you.... are you going to......to put me in bondage?" the 
girl asked.

"Yes, Dear, I am." Miss Juniper replied, taking one of the ropes and 
slowly winding it around Shara's wrists behind her back



End of part III
© 1999, Aiken

"High-heeled hell" Part IV
   By Aiken © 1999

Miss Juniper took one length of rope and tied it around Shara's wrists, 
snugging them together in the small of her back. Shara looked surprised, 
but said nothing. Her prime concern was trying not to fall on her face 
while her teacher tied off the rope. The 7-inch platform heels Miss 
Juniper had given Shara to wear were proving quite difficult for her to 
balance in.

"I know what you are thinking my dear", said Miss J as she drew another 
longer length of rope from her box and approached the trembling Shara. 
"How am I supposed to be an assistant if Teacher has my hands all tied 
up? Well, dear, I have that figured out too. Not to worry."

"You see, I want you to demonstrate some very different things to the 
class as we proceed with Tiffany and Samantha's snuff. This longer rope 
will be a garotte for your throat, dear. Does anyone remember what a 
garotte is, class?"

"Yes," said Jimmy, "A garotte is a neck binding that restricts a woman's 
breathing. More for torture and rape than for snuff."

"Very good answer, Jimmy," said Miss J, "In a few moments, you'll be the 
first to enjoy the splendid effects of Shara's garotte. A garotte gives 
an endlessly variable means of strangulation. Using a garotte, simple 
hand pressure provides a hangman with complete breath control over his 
victim. And once she has been tortured sufficiently the garotte becomes 
an extremely convenient, almost relaxing, means of snuffing her as well."

Shara's eyes were filling with tears. She had never felt so helpless. 
Those casual remarks were not about the consensual snuff volunteers 
Tiffany and Samantha, who stood suffering on their nooses a couple of 
yards away, they were about her! Shara saw nothing convenient or 
relaxing about breath torture or death being inflicted upon her. 
Suddenly she was terrified, afraid she had unwittingly become a snufftoy 
for the amusement of her class.

"Miss J?" she asked softly, trying to control her tears, "I'm just to be 
your assistant, right? I didn't accidently sign up for torture and snuff 
did I?"

"Well, Shara," said Miss J, her hands stroking the girl's neck, "Let's 
see...I have a quick-release there on my desk with your signature on it. 
Your classmates and the video cameras all witnessed your signing it, 
quite voluntarily. Then you put these delightful bondage shoes on for me 
and let me tie your hands behind your back, without any complaint or 
resistance on your part. Hmmm. According to our manuals I think that 
means we can, for the edification of our class, do just about anything 
we want with you. Within reason, of course.

Miss Juniper's treacherous remarks struck Shara like a sharp icicle, 
confirming her worst fears. She saw herself falling through a deep black 
abyss, into her worst nightmare. She hadn't been able to plan any of 
this. It felt so wrong, so unfair.

"But none of this is reasonable," Shara responded, in a louder whisper, 
"You promised me I wouldn't end up like them. At least not now. Maybe 
another day, but not today. Please, Miss J. Tell me you won't let them 
hurt me, torture me, kill me...." Her voice trailed off, choking up with 
tears.

Miss J. looked into Shara's desperate eyes, realizing again just how 
much she loved her job.  A girl's feelings of ultimate fear and dread 
were like a delicious meal for her. Especially when the truth of what 
was happening first sank in for the victim. The inevitable begging, and 
the pitiful bargaining were always so sweet. So real, so helpless, so 
irresistibly erotic.

"I understand, dear." replied Miss J, smiling, "I really do. And you're 
right. I promised you wouldn't end up exactly like them. But I never 
promised you wouldn't be tortured, or turned into our high-heeled 
fucktoy, or maybe even snuffed out in some special way. I haven't quite 
decided about that last part. That possibility can linger for awhile 
yet. This is creativity day, after all." Shara lowered her head and 
began to weep.

"There, now...." said Miss J., gently lifting Shara's chin up to look 
into her tear stained face, "You just woke up from a dream, didn't you? 
A pleasant, sexy dream that you thought could last forever. And you're 
feeling tricked now. But that's just an illusion, Shara. You betrayed 
yourself, thinking you could control something like this, that you could 
drift into it gently. You thought this was a safe demonstration, didn't 
you? But everything here is real, Shara. Look at Tiff and Sam over 
there. Hopping, strangling, bleeding, taking all day to die. Do you 
think it's real enough for them? Of course it is. And it's real enough 
for you.

You betrayed yourself by trusting us not to do something like this. Once 
release papers are signed, even the simplest kind, and consensual 
bondage occurs, it's not just our right to torture, or even snuff you. 
It's an obligation. Don't be afraid. Try to remember everything you have 
studied about volunteerism and invokement, and see the higher purpose 
here. There is such pleasure ahead for all of us. You have many 
experiences to taste. Some of them will be strong, and sharp. Some very, 
very bitter. And some will be very sweet. But all of them are inevitable 
for you now."

Her teacher's remarks left Shara stunned and speechless, the tears 
flowing steadily down her cheeks. "Tears of awakening." thought Miss J, 
knowingly, "Very soon, there will be tears of choking. Tears of pleasure 
and tears of pain."

"Observe closely," said Miss Juniper, resuming her classroom lecture 
voice, "I am tying two simple overhand knots in the middle of this 
12-foot rope, one on top of the other. Next I will place this 
ball-shaped knot directly over the hollow of Shara's throat. Then I take 
the two ends and wrap them smoothly around her neck, pulling them just 
enough to remove all slack." The teacher wound the rope around the 
girl's neck several times in such a way that each winding laid directly 
against her neck and not on top of a previous loop. Shara was trying to 
clear her throat a little bit, partly from the crying, and partly from 
the knot pressing into her trachea. "Can you feel that, Shara?" Miss J. 
asked her.

"Yes Ma'am," Shara  said, hoping her politeness and bravery would win 
her some points.

"Very good, dear," said Miss J. "The knot should feel like a large lump 
in your throat. No pain or choking should be felt at this time. Only 
anxiety and discomfort. As you can see, class, these ropes-ends are 
winding in two different directions, but always flat against her neck. 
If we've done it right this will result in a 2 to 3 inch wide rope-band 
around her neck, with several inches left over at the ends. Loop your 
two loose ends twice under all the other winds at the nape of her neck 
and tie them off with a good square knot"

Miss J made a tight square knot at the back of the neck windings, 
causing Shara to cough slightly. "That back knot tightens everything 
down quite a bit, including our front knot, which should now feel like 
it has invaded the victim's windpipe. Our victim should be in some pain 
now, but still able to breathe and talk somewhat normally. Am I 
correctly describing your situation, Shara?" The poor girl nodded 
slowly, her eyes registering pain and hopelessness.

"Excellent!" said Miss J., "Our garotte is properly in place. Now all we 
need is a good handle." Miss J. reached back into her box of goodies and 
drew out a steel ring, almost 4 inches in circumference. She placed the 
ring against the outside of Shara's back knot. Taking the remaining 
endpieces of the rope she tied them around the ring with two more very 
tight square knots. Shara gagged and struggled a bit while these knots 
were tied, but only from the jerking movements involved, not because it 
made the garotte any tighter.

"There it is," the sadistic teacher said proudly, "The perfect handle. 
This is what makes the device complete. By pulling or twisting on this 
handle, even gently, Shara can be choked by infinite degrees. With 
careful use a garotte strangulation can be made to last for days, or 
even weeks. Truly an exquisite means of torture. Questions, class?"

"I was wondering," Said Pascha, her eyes bright with excitement, "Does 
the victim get any pleasure from the garotte?"

"Oh, yes, "responded Miss J., "Even without sexual contact, intense 
orgasms have been recorded for the victims, along with amazing erotic 
dreams and hallucinations. The garotte victim usually passes in and out 
of consciousness so many times she hardly knows what is real and what 
isn't. But if she is being used sexually in any way, it's like icing on 
the cake. Whether it's tender lovemaking or brutal rape, her sexual 
responses will be heightened many times over, whether she wants them to 
be or not."

"What about blowjobs?" asked Perry, "Are those improved too?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" winked Miss Juniper, triggering a round of 
laughter from the entire class. "Yes, I've been told that garotte 
blowjobs are the very best imaginable. Their ease of use is really the 
key. With the slightest touch you can regulate her gagging and 
discomfort, rewarding her, as it were, with the next breath of life. 
Garotte torture demands the very best fellatio she can give. Thus a man 
is afforded effortless pleasure, the way he is supposed to have it, with 
his victim struggling desperately to suck his cock, blacking out and 
being revived to his hearts content. By the way, It's a good idea to 
keep plenty of ammonia capsules handy."

The class was electrified by Miss Juniper's descriptions of Shara's 
impending erotic torture. They were all staring at Shara wondering how 
well she would hold up to the torments that lay ahead. The boys were all 
dreaming of how it would feel to have her gagging lips softly servicing 
their pricks. The girls fantasized about what it must feel like to be 
her. Some were wondering just how they would react if Miss J. had chosen 
them for such diabolical torture.

"Who would like to experience some of that?" Miss Juniper asked the 
class. Every hand rose quickly, then more laughter ensued, especially 
when it was noticed that the girls were just as enthusiastic as the 
boys. "Were you thinking of using strap-ons, girls?" their teacher 
teased, spurring more giggles and embarrassed looks. "Don't blush so. 
It's perfectly all right. Dildo blowjobs provide quite an emotional 
high, and I assure you they are just as pleasant in their own way, 
especially if you have an appliance that stimulates you at the same 
time. Your victim's pain and degradation, the things that really count, 
are actually heightened. Remember, it's harder to swallow a long rubber 
cock than a flesh one any day." She certainly seemed to know these 
things from experience. "All you girls who want to indulge yourselves 
with Shara, go to the supply closet, and choose your tool. You'll find a 
wide variety of dildos in the top drawer, some realistic, and some not. 
Just be sure to get a harness that matches your sex toy. A good sturdy 
harness makes all the difference." Every girl in the class rushed 
noisily to the back of the room to make their choice. All except for the 
three students standing at the front of the room, whose fates were 
sealed.

"Let's get you ready, sweetheart." Miss J. whispered to Shara, while the 
girls busied themselves happily with the toys. Miss J. got out her 
trusty makeup bag and started hunting a nice shade of lipstick for the 
girl to wear. Besides her love of torturing and snuffing her students, 
and a deep fetish for high heels, the teacher had an intense love for 
makeup, especially lipstick. Her idea of a perfect world would include 
laws requiring girls to keep their lipstick fresh and perfect, day or 
night, perhaps under penalty of death. She finally decided on a dark 
blood-red shade, bordering on black. "Yes. This should make a nice color 
to go with your big eyes and pale features. The darker the color, the 
better those cameras will see your pretty lips doing their work. Have 
you ever sucked a cock, dear?" 

"Uhh....yes, a little bit Ma'am," Shara said meekly, "I did OK with a 
couple of boys who weren't too big. But it really hurt when I tried it 
with Brad. He's got such a big one."

"I know, hon." her teacher replied, holding her chin with one hand and 
stroking lipstick on the girl's lips with the other. "Brad's got almost 
eight inches, I think. Most of the boys in this class have very large 
penises I'm afraid. I have their stats in my notebook. Cream of the crop 
really. If I'm not mistaken there are only two of them who are smaller 
than seven inches. Several are well over nine. And there's no telling 
what the girls are selecting back there. Sucking a cock is like anything 
else, though. The more you do of it, the better you will get. You'll get 
lots of practice today, sweetie. Just remember to worship them, and open 
up your throat. Whatever cock is inside you, you must give yourself to 
it completely. It's owner will sense that, boy or girl, and be ready to 
come much more quickly. You move on to satisfy the next phallus, and 
everyone has a more pleasant time.

"How many of them am I supposed to suck off, Miss J?" Shara asked 
dubiously.

"Why... all of them dear," answered her teacher, who was busy applying a 
lipsealing gloss to the girl's richly stained lips. A sealer that would 
help her lipcolor weather the intrusions her lips were soon scheduled to 
suffer. "You must make all of them come too. Even the girls. Of course 
nobody will come inside of you. I have other plans for their nasty 
discharges. Now don't worry about anything. I know you can do it. Mmm, 
and you'll look beautiful doing it, too. That lipstick is really a great 
color for you. Are you ready to get started now?"

"I'll try my best, ma'am," Shara replied, her voice quivering from 
beneath the rope harness at her throat.

"Wonderful!" Miss J. beamed. "I've been planning this for a very long 
time. You're perfect for this assignment. You'll see."

"Ma'am?" the girl asked softly.

"Yes." said Miss J.

"Is there anything at all I can do," the girl asked, "You, know, to get 
out of this? I'm just so scared....I really wasn't ready to die today." 
Her eyes were tearing up again.

"Afraid not, hon." Miss J said sweetly, "You will experience the garotte 
just as I've described it, in all of it's glory. But, truth be told, I 
haven't really decided if you should be snuffed out today or not. I 
know! How about we torture you right up until 5 o'clock. We see how well 
you've done servicing all the cocks, or cocklike objects, that come near 
you. We could make a determination at that time whether to snuff you 
with the other two, or let you live. If you live you could recuperate 
until arrangements can be made for follow-up tortures. Naturally you 
would be snuffed eventually, but this would allow you to live beyond 
today. Maybe we could even put it to a classroom vote.... Would you like 
an opportunity like that, dear? 

"Oh, yes," Said Shara, "Please. I really want a chance to live."

"OK, it's settled then, "said Miss J, "You must give it all you've got 
now. Only an outstanding performance will buy you some more life. And 
remember, I promise you nothing. Only a chance. And if I don't think you 
are doing as good a job as you are capable of, I will instruct the boys 
to piss down your throat, drowning you in their waste if necessary"

"Class, listen closely for a minute" Miss J said loudly, "Girls, you've 
had plenty of time to choose your equipment. Get back to your desks now 
and quietly put on your harnesses. You may remove whatever clothing you 
feel necessary to be comfortable. We will do this in a very quiet and 
orderly fashion. We will start with Jimmy, then Pascha, and then Perry, 
as a reward for their excellent questions. I will call out each boy or 
girl's name who is on deck for the next round with Shara. No one is 
required to do this for their grade. Participation in today's garotte 
rape is completely voluntary. Anyone who wants to abstain from the fun 
please raise your hand." No one raised their hand. Miss J marked 
something down in her journal. "It's so gratifying to see full classroom 
voluntary participation....bonus points for the entire class."

"Now before we get started I want you to know a few more rules. First of 
all no one comes inside Shara's mouth, or on Shara, or anywhere else 
except where I tell you to. Your come goes inside of Tiffany's and 
Samantha's mouths. All of it. When Shara has you about ready to come, 
you must give her up to the next student. You boys will then step up on 
this ladder and aim your seed into our hanging victim's mouths. We will 
alternate. First one, then the other. Some of you girls who climax 
without a lot of liquid may disregard my rules for collecting your 
girl-come. But I know from your records that many of the ladies here are 
squirters. Those who are able to squirt their come must catch their 
liquid in this cup. When you are done collecting your fluids, climb up 
the ladder and pour it into whichever victim's mouth whose turn it is. 
They haven't had a drink in over three hours, and they desperately need 
one. To maximize this experience for them, though, we are going to 
install these new ringgags into our two victims' mouths. Do you remember 
these gags, class?"

"I do," said Bridget, excitedly, "Last month you described a ring gag 
with spikes that move out, stabbing into a girl's cheeks and tongue. 
Sounded so wicked, It gave me chills when I first heard it. I've been 
imagining how that must feel ever since."

That's right, Bridget, said the teacher, "It gives a whole new meaning 
to tongue and facial piercing doesn't it? Well, I've got one for each of 
our hanging victims. These models have 12 very slender serrated spears 
that extrude about an inch from the gag, for a minimum of blood loss and 
choking. Three go into each cheek. Three into the palette, and three 
into the tongue. I've been told these gags are astonishingly painful. 
The spears are barbed so withdrawing them is many times more painful, 
assuming the subject is still alive at that time. Bridget, if you would 
do the honors, I'm sure our volunteers will have their own way of 
telling us how these feel."

"Wow, thanks, Miss J." Said Bridget, jumping up from her desk. She was 
wearing her new dildo harness, and wagging a narrow black vein-covered 
lookalike of about eight inches. Several students chuckled at her 
bizarre appearance, wearing nothing but the harness, white socks, and 
her tight white sports bra. She looked down and laughed at herself too, 
but wasted no time getting up the aisle to obtain the two torture gags 
from Miss J.

"Put the rings well into their mouths," said Miss J, "So their tongues 
will be caught later by the barbs, and buckle the straps tightly at the 
back of their necks, just above their neck ropes. If they resist you, 
squeeze their breasts. That will make them do anything. These are in 
regular position right now. Rings only. The spears don't come out until 
the right time, after you've strapped them in good and tight. This 
little button on the bottom front of the ring pushes in and slides over 
about an inch, see? Strong springs inside the ring do all of the work, 
really. Be sure the button side faces out and down or you won't be able 
to release the spears. Got all that?"

"Got it!" said Bridget, with a giggle, "I'm on the job!"

"I've got several more of those gags, Bridget," added Miss J, "In case 
you want to try one on yourself..."

"Uuhhh, no thanks, Miss J." said Bridget smiling sweetly, "I'd better 
pass on that. I'd much rather see our snuff volunteers wearing them. I 
mean, you know, their goose is cooked anyway. What about Shara though?"

"Not Shara," answered the teacher, "I don't want anything to dilute the 
delicious garotte experience for her, or for the class. Now I want you 
to stay with Tiff and Sam during all of this, Bridget, and sort of keep 
an eye on them. You know, help the guys up and down the ladder, tip the 
girls' chins up at the appropriate times, that sort of thing. You might 
get to inflict a few other tortures on them if you agree to assist me. 
Sound good?"

"Sure," Bridget chirped.

"Great." said Miss J, "First go sign your name on that accident release 
sheet sitting on my desk. Then slip on a pair of the white platform 
shoes you'll find in that large box under my desk.

"OK, Miss J," said the excited girl, "This is gonna be fun!" 

A few moments later Bridget, smiling broadly and perched on her new 
7-inch heels, had the ringgags wedged tightly behind Tiffany's and 
Samantha's teeth, locking their drooling mouths open as wide as they 
could go. The straps were buckled up as tight as they could be. The two 
girls eyes looked exhausted and pain-wracked. As if the humiliating gags 
couldn't matter any more than the rest of their torment. But very soon 
those gags would matter....much more..... Bridget looked eagerly to Miss 
J. for permission to engage the buttons. 

"Wait for my sign before releasing the spears," Miss J. whispered, 
holding up her finger, "And unhook the two girls foot chains. I'll bet 
they can use the rest, and Shara's about to go center stage. Tell them I 
want peace and quiet." Bridget nodded OK, and unclipped the chains that 
connected each girls feet together. They were no longer forced to keep 
one foot in the air and one on the ground. For the time being they were 
given some respite from the torture that had consumed their energies for 
the last two hours.

"Shara I want you to look up at the large video monitor," Miss J said, 
"We have a surprise for you before your ordeal begins. This is a two-way 
connection."

The girl looked up and an image soon appeared. It was her mother and 
father. Also in the picture were her younger brother and her 2 little 
sisters. All of them were smiling.

"Shar," her father said, "Your mother and I have been told about your 
volunteering for torture class. They're using something called a 
garotte....".

"That's right, dear, we'll be watching you on the live feed" her mother 
said. Her mouth was smiling also, but her eyes held a trace of fear. 
"We've never...umm...seen one demonstrated before. It sounds awfully 
exciting. Your father says if it works as good on you as it's been 
described to us, he'll use one on me tonight. How are you doing, dear?"

Uuhh, pretty good I guess," Shara replied, glancing over to Miss 
Juniper. Remembering her deal, she thought it wise to summon as much 
enthusiasm as possible. "Miss Juniper has explained the torture in great 
detail. It looks like the entire class is going to try it out. They are 
going to take turns, umm...you know, raping me, and choking me with this 
thing."

"I know, we can hardly wait," her mother answered, "Sounds like they'll 
have a wonderful time using you, and I'm sure you'll service the boys 
well.  By the way, that lipstick you're wearing looks adorable. It's 
such a good color on this video monitor. I didn't know you liked wearing 
those dark red shades."

"It was my teacher's idea," said Shara, "She put a sealer on it too. 
It's supposed to make the color last a long time, even after lots of 
blowjobs."

"It does look great." Shara's dad whispered to her mother, "Let's get 
some for tonight, Linda."

"Yes dear, I'll just ask Miss Juniper..."

"Passionberry Wine" interjected Miss J, "And Everlast gloss sealer. 
You'll find them both at Dolco stores."

"Thank you." Shara's mother replied softly, looking a bit flushed. And 
afraid.

"Shara," her father said, "The school liaison told us that your class 
has nearly 20 million live feed viewers, and more are tuning in every 
minute, at $150 a pop. It's just amazing. Advance vid-royalty offers 
have been pouring in ever since you hit 4 million. You are making us so 
rich, sweetheart.

"That's great, dad," said Shara, "I never dreamed folks would be so 
interested in me."

"Well, you and the other volunteers of course," her dad replied, "So far 
it's a three-family split, with the school getting half. Any way you 
figure it, we're set for life. I never knew you had it in you to 
volunteer. We are so proud of you..." His voice choked up a little bit 
and Shara's mother took over.

"Yes, it's such a gift you're giving us. And we'll have this experience 
of you to treasure forever" said her mother, "Try and enjoy yourself 
dear. We love you very, very much....goodbye now." Shara started to say 
something to her mother, but the monitor went blank. She turned to Miss 
Juniper and asked how she did.

"I'd say you did very well, dear," Miss J. said, "Your eyes stayed 
fairly dry the whole time. And judging by the gleam I saw in your 
father's eyes, I'm betting your beautiful mother will be wearing 
Passionberry Wine, and strangling on his cock long into the night."


End of part IV
© 1999, Aiken

"High-heeled hell" Part V
   By Aiken © 1999

"Bridget, I want you to fetch something." said Miss Juniper, "In our 
supply room there is a device with a satin sheet draped over it. It has 
four casters underneath and it will roll very easily. Push it in here 
for me and place it at the front of the class where Shara and I are 
standing. But leave the cover on it for now. No peeking, It's a 
surprise."

"Yes Ma'am." Bridget replied, shuffling off to the supply room as 
quickly as her 7-inch platform heels would allow her to. She was really 
enjoying her role of Teacher's Assistant. She entered the supply room 
adjacent to their classroom and turned on the light. She saw three 
similar looking objects, each roughly three foot square by three foot 
tall. All had blue satin coverlets draped over them. She selected the 
one closest to the doorway and pushed it out to the spot that her 
teacher had designated.

"Thank you, dear. Now....students," Miss J began, "This is a remarkable 
invention that we've never studied yet. No one has, because it didn't 
exist until about three weeks ago. It was designed by a brilliant 
engineer from Kilo Industrials, one of our biggest equipment suppliers. 
He's a very dear friend of mine. By a special arrangement, he is letting 
me test prototypes of his new creation." She pulled the cover off to 
reveal a low rectangular steel platform covered with thin black vinyl 
cushions. It resembled a piece of heavy duty exercise equipment, but 
clearly served a much darker purpose.

"This is called the MTP-5000." announced Miss J. "It's an extremely 
sturdy appliance made with a steel frame and aluminum panels. It can be 
customized in endless ways to restrain our subject and better facilitate 
her torture. As you can see it is equipped with wheels so that once the 
victim is locked in according to our pleasure, she may be moved about 
very conveniently.  That feature will be quite handy for us today, 
because we will be taking Shara from desk to desk as each of you, in 
turn, rapes her mouth, and strangles her with the garotte. There are 
mounting slots on each side of our base unit whereby a variety of 
ingenious components may be snapped in and out. The arrangement we are 
using today employs a single vertical unit called a breast-connect. We 
also have two side components called secondary knee rails." 

The breast-connect is an aluminum assembly, about two feet wide by three 
feet tall and an inch or so thick, covered in the same black vinyl 
padding as the base. There is another short roll of vinyl padding at the 
top of it, and two eight-inch diameter openings placed a half foot below 
that. 

"The victim is supposed to kneel on the platform here," Miss J. 
continued, motioning Shara forward, "Facing the breast-connect so that 
her boobs can pass through these openings, with her chin placed over 
this padded rail." She eased the frightened girl down onto her knees.

"As you can see, the base and breast-connect are both padded for 
comfort." said Miss J, "But even that is an option. There are nine 
different surface selections, called faces, for the MTP-5000, including 
an abrasive carbide material, a pebble face, and short steel spikes, 
called snags. We ordered them all. There's even one surface that 
resembles a huge carrot grater. Imagine kneeling on something like that, 
Shara, and resting your chin on steel snags instead of this padded 
vinyl....mmmm?" The poor girl glanced back at the smiling woman, 
obviously terrified by the same thoughts that enchanted her teacher.

Miss Juniper gently lifted Shara's 37" C-cup breasts, passing them thru 
the openings. "These are nice full breasts, darling, and I see your 
nipples are still hard as rocks......Now scoot forward, dear. All the 
way." the teacher said, pinching each breast firmly just beneath her 
nipples. Shara winced as she pressed against the breast openings as far 
as she could go. "Bridget, while I pull and maintain steady pressure on 
Shara's breasts, go to the left side of the breast-connect and hunt for 
a steel lever facing downward. See it?"

"Yes, Ma'am", Bridget said dutifully.

"Good," her teacher said, "Lift it up a few inches, until you feel a 
couple of clicks."  Bridget did as she was told. A couple of sharp 
clicks could be clearly heard. "Now do it again. You are activating a 
ratchet that tightens a steel band assembly around each of Shara's 
breasts. I want you to keep tightening it up very slowly, until I tell 
you to stop."

"Cool, Miss J!" Bridget agreed, and continued to rock the lever up and 
down every few seconds. It was soon clear from the sounds Shara was 
making that the bands were gripping her breasts most painfully. She was 
saying "Oooh...oh...oww!" and tipping her head mournfully from side to 
side.

"Two more clicks ought to do it, Bridget" said Miss J. "Then stop and go 
around to the other side of the breast unit." Miss J. slowly released 
her grip on Shara's breasts, and smiled as she observed that they didn't 
drop back at all. They were ballooning forward grotesquely, and had 
turned a bright pink.

"The pressure of those hidden bands is holding our victim's breasts in 
place very securely," Said the cruel teacher, "They are undamaged as 
yet, but are already beginning to swell. This will soon cause a riot of 
painful sensations for our victim. The pressure and swelling also 
combine to make freeing her breasts impossible without assistance." What 
we have managed to do is restrain her beautiful body without using ropes 
or straps of any kind. She's been hopelessly trapped simply by ensnaring 
these pretty tits. Isn't this lovely, Shara?" The poor student moaned 
pitifully, dropping her chin onto the padding. "Naturally, there is a 
release button above the ratchet handle," the teacher added, "But it 
can't be activated without first inserting a security key. This sensible 
feature prevents any tampering or accidental release of a victim. I hold 
the key..."

"It's really not so bad, honey," the teacher smiled down to Shara, 
stroking her tear-stained cheeks, "On that side of the breast-connect, 
where Bridget is kneeling, there is a second lever with an entirely 
different, and delicious purpose.....  Oh, class, did I remember to 
mention... The same company that makes the MTP-5000 also makes the 
RG-61. You see, Tiffany and Samantha are wearing RG-61's in their mouths 
right now. " Eyes wide, Shara looked back and forth frantically between 
the two hanging volunteers and her teacher, her mouth caught in a mute 
"O-shaped" expression of terror. "Funny thing," Miss J. continued, "The 
designers over at Kilo Inc. are very fond of using spring-loaded spears 
in their torture appliances. They produce about 50 items based on that 
theme. Apparently their customers are pretty keen on this idea too, 
because sales of those innovative devices are going thru the roof."

"Oooh, Miss J....Ooh, Miss J." Shara kept babbling, "Oh, please 
don't....please...please...."

"Shhh..shhh.." Miss Juniper warned her sternly, "Don't interrupt me, 
child, unless you want the worst of it. Yes, class, each device clasping 
one of Shara's beautiful breasts contains 12 slender one-inch spears 
identical to the ones those wicked ringgags employ. The only difference 
is that these pierce inward rather than outward. They deploy 
simultaneously with very powerful springs when the lever next to Bridget 
is snapped up all the way. Once that lever is thrown up and all 24 
daggers are deep inside her breasts, it too requires my key to be 
lowered again, and for those barbed delights to be withdrawn."

"Bridget," Miss J. said "I think It's time to engage the button on one 
of those ringgags. We need to witness the special persuasive effect 
these spears can have on torture victims. Do Tiffany's, please."

"With pleasure, Ma'am!" chimed Bridget, as she jumped up, nearly 
stumbling. She went to the hanging girls, her virgin ankles wobbling in 
her tall heels. Tiffany's eyes were fluttering in terror. She was saying 
"Aa...aa...gaa", making the only sad utterances a ringgag will permit. 
She was shuffling about slightly on her thumbtacked feet, as far as 
their neck rope would allow, as if she could avoid the disastrous pain 
that loomed before her. "Here goes Tiffany's ringgag..." Bridget called 
out, smiling broadly.

She depressed the button gently with her middle finger. The springs 
inside the gag took over, pulling it across a narrow channel to the 
left. A strange squishing sound could be heard. Tiffany's eyes flew open 
in blinding agony, and a long baleful shriek trumpeted across the room. 
Halfway through her wail, streams of bloody saliva spilled from her lips 
and three shiny points of metal sprouted thru each cheek, dripping bits 
of gore and riverlets of crimson along her jaw. Puffing and blowing, 
Tiffany threw her head from side to side as if to shake away the 
dreadful pain, but to no avail. Her pain was only increasing. She turned 
and twisted in desperation, then tipped her head back, screaming as loud 
as her lungs would go. She finally ran out of breath, and started 
gagging on her blood. At this point Tiff slumped forward, threw up, and 
passed out briefly, falling against her neck rope. A moment of stillness 
was followed by seizures as she awakened in a dead panic, only to be 
immersed in hell once more. She struggled to regain her bruised feet, 
then screamed again and again, until all she could make were rasping 
animalistic squeaks. Finally, even these sounds subsided as she stood 
feeling her salty tears mix with her blood and saliva. She shivered 
slightly, panting and moaning in pitiful torment.

"My goodness, Tiffany, what a struggle," Miss J. called out, "That 
was....wonderful, dear... Absolutely wonderful! What did you think about 
it class?" Applause erupted immediately from the students, complete with 
shouts and whistles of approval. "I thought so." thought Miss J. to 
herself during the joyous racket, "And i'll bet the live-feed audience 
agrees with you."

"Almost creamed my jeans, Teach." called Roger, spurring laughter among 
many of the students.

"I quite agree, Roger, I quite agree." answered the teacher. "Well, 
Shara, do you have any doubts as to the effectiveness of those barbed 
little devils?"

"N-no Ma'am," Shara grunted turning her head, trying not to pull against 
her imprisoned breasts. "I never doubted that. Not for a second. It just 
looks so terrible for her.....so painful......and you've destroyed her 
beautiful face!"

"Yes, Shara, her face has been damaged beyond repair,"  Miss Juniper 
replied firmly,  "Along with her tongue, and her palette. But she and 
her friend will be far worse than that before we're done. And they'll be 
quite dead at the end of it. Still, you must remember...they selected 
this. And so did you. Well, of course they didn't choose all these 
gruesome particulars. No one could do that. Not even the most ardent 
masochist. But she did volunteer. And, just like you, she must accept 
all that goes with it...."

"Yes, Ma'am." Shara answered obediently.

"Shall I do Samantha now?" asked Bridget cheerfully, "I can pop her 
gag-button too, Miss J... or, how about I throw the switch on Shara's 
breasts? I don't mind, really...."

"No thank you, Bridget," her teacher said thoughtfully, "I think the 
demonstration has served it's purpose for the moment. We will trigger 
Samantha's gag later, and perhaps even Shara's breast harness too. But 
for the time being Sam can look over at her hanging partner and savor 
her own future. Anticipation is, after all, the mother of all pleasure. 
And as for Shara, I think it's about time she started on her cocksucking 
assignment. I think there's some very hard penises in this room that 
need her attention.....Got your woody ready, Jimmy?"

"Yes Ma'am, almost bursting, I think..." Jim answered.

"Bridget," said Miss J., reaching into her infamous little box  "Let's 
wheel our little package over to Jimmy's desk and have him try Shara 
out! Why not use this as a tether." She handed her assistant a pair of 
strong nipple clamps connected by a few feet of chain with a heavy metal 
ring at the center, almost as large as the ring on Shara's garotte. 

Bridget smiled impishly, took the chain from her teacher, and carefully 
placed the clamps over Shara's nipples, releasing them at the same time. 
Shara winced and cried out softly as the vicious teeth bit into her 
swollen teats. Bridget then matter of factly took the ring and, using it 
as a handle, towed Shara smoothly up the aisle to Jimmy's desk, and to 
her first torture destination.

"Hi, Shar, ready to swallow some dick?" Jimmy said, as he stroked his 
rock-hard penis a few inches from her lips. He was sitting naked on the 
corner of his desk, which put him at the perfect angle to begin 
mouth-raping her. His dick was drooling precome and looked to be every 
bit of 9 inches in length. "Gonna suck it real good, girl?"

"Yes sir," Shara said bravely, "I want your cock real bad, Jimmy. Put it 
in my mouth please...."

"Mmmmm," he moaned, "Your wish is my command," He slipped his cockhead 
into her mouth and worked it around roughly while she swirled her soft 
tongue underneath him, tickling his nerve. He was so large, she couldn't 
believe it. Much larger than Brad had been. Soon he was pressing 
urgently against the back of her throat. He bumped her there a couple of 
times, really hard, gagging her, bringing tears into her eyes. Then she 
felt him twist viciously on the handle on her garotte.

She couldn't breath at all! She strained to open her mouth even wider, 
hoping to get some air, but there was none to be had. Jimmy had cut off 
her supply. The garotte knot was closing down her windpipe entirely. 
Just then he slammed his meat all the way into her throat. Shara 
couldn't believe how much it hurt..... She felt herself reeling, 
blacking out. As she slipped away, she could still feel Jimmy's huge 
dick sawing back and forth, invading her throat more deeply with each 
thrust. Still no air.......just his cock. His huge cock......And the 
pain. So much pain......

Shara felt herself coming back around, feeling very strange. There was a 
pulsing in her neck and a buzzing sound in her ears and inside her 
mouth. She was getting a little bit of air now, but she wasn't sure how 
much. She was terribly nauseous and had a splitting headache, but she 
was definitely still alive. Her mouth was also still packed full of 
cock, but it felt very different, tasted strange....she looked up and 
saw Pascha smiling down at her, riding her face with a long black rubber 
dildo. It was not as big around as Jimmy's flesh had been, but was quite 
a bit longer, about 11 inches. Pascha kept the garotte knot pressed 
steadily into her throat...still not enough air.....but not cutting the 
supply off as Jimmy had done. Like an expert, Pascha was keeping Shara 
quite desperate, and in a steady panic for her next breath....

The dildo had a powerful vibrator at it's base, pleasuring Pascha as she 
thrust it in and out of Shara's mouth. That's where the buzzing noise 
had been coming from....Pascha was alternately pulling and turning the 
garotte handle with every other thrust, but doing it ever so gently, 
making Shara grunt and gasp with each push, allowing just the smallest 
puffs of air in and out of her lungs. Almost Insignificant bits of air. 
But barely enough.... Pascha really had her rhythm down. But if she was 
more gentle with the garotte than Jimmy had been, she was much rougher 
when it came to her hip thrusts. Pascha was certainly enjoying herself!

"Glad to see your......mmmmhh.......coming back around, honey," Pascha 
said, panting and talking within the rhythm of her hip movements. "We 
were afraid.......Jimmy had finished you off......on the very first 
go-round.......Mmmmnn.......Did you know you came just then?.......Yeah, 
you sure did!......... the video cameras caught it all.......just as you 
were choking on Jimmy's penis.........and passing out......and it was 
so-oo hot.........Oohhh, suck.......yes, that's the way to do 
it......uuuhhhhnn, yeah, baby.......I think this has.......got to be 
the...... mmmmmmnnn........the best sex I've ever had!

Shara tried to suck enthusiastically on Pascha's rubber cock but it was 
difficult. It rubbed against her mouth differently from a live dick, was 
much less yielding and forgiving. She could feel It bruising her on the 
inside, but she was giving it her best.....puffing her cheeks up with 
Pascha's instrokes, and sucking hard on her outstrokes. Trying hard to 
stay in rhythm, so Pascha would know she really cared....

"Keep trying, baby........uhnnn........ohhh, I know........It's not 
easy....... is it, honey?......." Pascha continued, thrusting away in 
her nasty-talking erotic trance, "Mmmmn.......It's hard I know, baby, 
but .........but Pascha wants you to.......mmmnnnn.........open up wide 
now......oooh, yes sweetheart .......Pascha's going to go.......... all 
the way in......!!"

Just then she pushed the rubber dick all the way down Shara's throat. 
All 11 inches of it! While one hand held Shara's garotte snug, Pascha's 
other hand was massaging Shara's neck, feeling the strange erotic bulge 
the rubber intruder was creating, running her fingers lightly over the 
lump where the rubber cockhead was lodged...... Shara's panic started 
building again....no air at all........but Pascha just held her there 
with a throat full of rubber, tightening the garotte even more. Little 
by little Shara was drifting away......."Swallow my sword, 
baby......swallow my sword....." she heard Pasha say over and over 
again, "Ooooh, yes, baby......so sexy........so sexy.......so sexy......"

Shara felt her cunt explode again, she thought she saw fireworks 
everywhere just before she blacked out. 

Shara was floating again. For a brief moment she wasn't filled with 
panic. She had a throat full of rubber dick but she was totally 
unafraid. Her world was one of peace, a strangely pleasant erotic 
peace......slowly that world dissolved back into reality. A hard-edged, 
painful place where metal bands gripped her ruthlessly by the breasts 
and steel jaws bit into her nipples. And where it felt like a basketball 
was lodged in her throat, and might never be removed....

Another cock was at her lips now. A real one again. This one was a bit 
shorter than the others, very wide, and very slippery. It was pistoning 
smoothly from the back of her throat to her lips, and back again. For 
some reason, breathing didn't seem to be a problem now. The garotte was 
still there, tight and painful as ever, but it wasn't cutting off all 
the air.....and she was getting useful gulps of oxygen in between the 
meaty strokes.

Shara glanced up and saw Perry looking down at her, beaming at her with 
pure pleasure. "Teacher was right, Shara! This is the best damn blowjob 
I've ever had....the best I ever dreamed of!"

Shara couldn't believe it. She wasn't in gut-wrenching pain. Sure, her 
throat hurt like hell from the two previous mouth rapes, and her breasts 
felt like they were on fire, but this cock actually felt good sliding in 
and out of her mouth. Perry had on some cologne that smelled sexy. He 
was also using some kind of lube gel that was soothing, and tasted 
pretty good. She figured it was time to start playing up to the cameras, 
and to try and improve her chances of living, as per her agreement. She 
backed up on Perry's dick just enough to say things to him. Nasty 
things. Things that go to a boy's head and put him into an erotic 
frenzy. Things like: "Yeah, I love it, baby.......Uh-huuhn, baby.......I 
want your cock so bad........fuck my face, baby.........yeah stick it in 
there.......harder!......mmmmm.......make me come with your 
dick........" 

Perry was eating it up...and so were his classmates. Shara heard several 
other students whooping and groaning with pleasure once she got the 
dirty talk going. She could feel electricity all over the room. She kept 
at it, too, sucking as hard as she could, and talking even harder. She 
made loud popping noises and nasty slurps whenever possible. The funny 
thing was.....it was true. She was enjoying this. She was absolutely 
burning up with lust. She could feel her love juices rolling down her 
legs.....This blowjob was about the best sensation she could ever 
remember feeling. She had Perry close to coming too, she could tell. But 
he wasn't quite there yet..... and then it hit her. He wasn't really 
choking her. Sure, he was holding onto the garotte handle, and sort of 
guiding her up and down his dick with it. But he wasn't using it to deny 
her of breath. That was the ticket!

"It's ok, baby......." Shara started to say, "  You can choke me a 
little more.......pull up on that handle a little harder........go for 
it, baby......I really want it....... I'll only suck you harder if you 
strangle me..........Harder, baby.............Squeeze me baby......I'll 
only squeeze you back......." Perry was getting delirious, and so were 
all the other students. Pretty soon he was accommodating her requests 
and Shara was finding it hard to say anything at all, sexy or not....he 
really was choking her! But she did manage to say a couple more choice 
things, like: "Come on now...!   Jam it in my throat, 
baby.......uhmm-hmmm!.............Plug me like a cork on a 
bottle.......cut off my air, baby..........I want some of that....." He 
finally obliged her. He planted his fat cock right into her throat, and 
at the same time clamped down tight with the garotte handle. She 
struggled desperately, flailing and choking. She was thrown back into 
hell itself, where  her lungs burned as badly for air as her breasts did 
from their steel prisons. She passed out again with a shower of sexual 
sparks like she had never imagined. She felt her sex melting away as an 
ecstacy of feeling washed over her.....

That's when Perry howled and shoved her away, rolling her apparatus into 
the arms of a petite oriental girl named Osana, whose huge inflatable 
faux-penis stood ready to demand even more strangling pleasure from her. 
Perry's come was ready to boil out of him. He ran to the stepladder, and 
up to the ringgagged mouth of poor Tiffany. Her tongue had recently 
caught a thick layer of sperm from Jimmy's cock, but when Perry arrived, 
his cock literally poured semen across her lips and down her gullet. His 
balls were on fire from Shara's hot talk. He kept pumping, spurt after 
spurt, while the other students whistled and urged him on. Most of it 
went into her mouth but when he was done, she was a mess. Her eyes were 
filled with come. It was splattered all over her face, and the sticky 
stuff even coated her brutally barb-wired tits. She was totally trashed. 
Bridget mewed and cood all the while, massaging his balls with one hand, 
and stroking Tiffany's neck with the other, urging her to swallow all of 
the young man's come, reminding her this was the only liquid she was 
likely to receive before dying.

"Fabulous!" cried Miss Juniper, "Amazing! That took everyone's breath 
away, didn't it?. Now when Shara regains consciousness, I want to 
congratulate her properly. What a performance.... Let's don't use the 
ammonia capsules on her, Osana, let her revive naturally, she can 
probably use a bit of sleep after exploding like that. Class, it's 
nearly 3 o'clock. We all need to take a short restroom break, say 15 
minutes, and reconvene quickly for the next leg of our victims' 
journeys. And, yes, just in case you were wondering, I do have some more 
surprises. Hanging behind my supply room door, there are plenty of robes 
for you to put on. That way you won't have to redress and undress. And 
those appliances you girls are wearing won't cause too much distraction 
in the hallways. Hurry along now...."

The doors burst open and her excited students rushed into the hallway, 
wearing their white terrycloth robes. Miss J. made her way back over to 
the unconscious Shara to check her lipstick. Amazingly enough it was 
still perfect. The sealer and color were doing their job, holding firm 
after three very spirited blowjobs. She would remember to give that 
company a strong endorsement later. The teacher then picked up the blue 
satin coverlet and tenderly draped it over the sleeping girl. That would 
prevent her from being chilled under the air conditioning vents until 
they returned to resume the fun. As she turned to leave the room, the 
telephone rang. She picked it up. 

"Juniper here." she answered. "Yes. Oh yes....I see. Well I wouldn't 
have any objection to that at all. No, it would tie in very nicely with 
my presentation. Have two porters sent to my room immediately and I'll 
see to it they get everything that's needed. We're on a short break now 
and on a very tight schedule, so it must be handled quickly. That's 
exactly right. Could you notify me when the time comes? Yes, certainly. 
I look forward to that. Thank you....Goodbye." Miss Juniper hung the 
phone up, tapped her fingers on the counter a few times, then turned on 
her heels and walked briskly out of the classroom. "I just love it when 
a plan comes together," she said to herself, smiling.


End of part V
© 1999, Aiken

"High-heeled hell" Part VI
 By Aiken © 1999

Miss Juniper's students wasted no time on their break, and were back at 
their desks removing their bathrobes before she returned from the 
bathroom. Miss J. entered the classroom to find Osana peeking under the 
blue silk sheet that covered Shara. Osana peered lovingly at Shara's 
ass, which was lifted up nicely from the way she was crouching in her 
bondage predicament. The MTP-5000 held Shara's breasts in a merciless 
grip with its tight steel bands, and her wrists were lashed together 
with strong rope in the small of her back. Shara had been asleep for 
several minutes following the mouth rape and garotte strangulation that 
Perry had treated her to earlier. He had released her at the very last 
minute before erupting his sperm. Another minute of his fun and Shara 
would have died, rather than merely climaxing violently and passing out. 

"Isn't it remarkable, Students?" Miss J. said to her class, "How Shara 
comes so powerfully each time she is strangled by the garotte? This is a 
textbook example of how cunning garotte strangulation can be. The 
garotte seduces a woman with her own sexual energies, even as it saps 
her of air, and keeps her hovering at the brink of death. It is a 
beautiful trap indeed. As we mentioned earlier, she can be maintained 
this way almost indefinitely, rising from, and succumbing to 
unconsciousness, punctuating each trip with the most powerful orgasm of 
her life. Studies have shown that this experience becomes highly 
addictive for a girl. The pain and difficulty of strangulation is more 
intense and terrifying each time she cycles through it, but amazingly, 
so is the sexual release. If the girl is set free after only a couple of 
sessions, she often comes back again and again, demanding more of this 
deadly pleasure. Victims of the garotte have been known to die of heart 
failure, but not from the fear, or stress of strangulation. They are 
overloaded by the sheer power and abundance of sexual delirium. Can you 
imagine what that must be like, Bridget?"

Miss J's pigtailed accomplice had a faraway look in her eyes. "Yes 
Ma'am," she said after a brief pause, "It must be so difficult for 
them....but, I've never seen a girl come like Shara did just then..."

"Miss Juniper?" Osana asked, "Would it be OK if I screwed Shara in the 
butt instead? I've always wanted to do that to a girl. And she's got one 
of the cutest asses I've seen." The petite oriental girl with long 
straight hair and a large strap-on dildo smiled shyly at her teacher.

"Certainly dear," Miss J. replied, "Everyone should experience the 
feeling of pushing an outsized cock up a girl's ass. Those secondary 
knee-rails on the side of the MTP-5000 are designed specifically for ass 
fucking a victim. They are cushioned for your comfort and adjustable to 
give you the right angle. Oh, I see you've chosen one of my favorite 
designs. Have you lubed up this dildo yet?"

"No ma'am, not yet," said Osana, "I was thinking I could lubricate it by 
rubbing it around on her pussy. She's been dripping her juice 
everywhere."

"A bit of saliva will do that job better," said Miss J., "Besides, I'd 
rather she didn't wake up until you began sodomizing her. It's much 
better if the first thing she feels is a hard rubber cock attacking her 
rectum. Bridget, come over here please, and use your mouth on Osana's 
dildo. Get it good and wet with your saliva, so it will slide smoothly 
into Shara's ass."

"Yes Ma'am!" Bridget answered eagerly. Flushed with submissive feelings, 
Bridget got on her knees to service the large dildo strapped to Osana's 
tiny waist. A 10-inch-long flesh colored prong, it was well over 2 
inches wide at the base, but much narrower at the head. It's soft crown 
was realistically shaped. Barely over one inch wide, its tiny tip made 
an extremely effective penetration tool. Bridget kissed and licked the 
entire dildo several times, getting it very wet, then slowly began 
pushing it into her mouth. It felt safe moving across her tongue, and 
sliding effortlessly into her throat.

Bridget liked the smooth pleasant shape of this dildo, and she was 
accepting it's girth nicely at first. But her security quickly vanished 
as Osana continued to push forward, and the dildo's wider portions began 
to follow, overfilling her mouth. Bridget's eyes bulged in amazement, as 
her mouth was packed to cheek-splitting fullness. The entrance of her 
throat was now being reamed by the thicker section of rubber that lay at 
mid-cock. Bridget stiffened in fear from the choking sensation this 
caused. The thing was hurting her, and it was still going in, spreading 
her mouth and throat even wider. She tried to retreat, but Miss J.'s 
hands disallowed that, holding her head in place. 

"Go slowly now. This is a very special dildo, Osana," Miss J. remarked, 
"See the reaction she's having? ....and you're not even all the way in 
yet! This cock is quite wicked, because it starts out small and 
manageable, but gets so large.... Soon a girl is in over her head, and 
she knows it. Then the pain and panic sets in. I've never seen this 
dildo fail. It will terrorize even the most accomplished fellatrix. 
Bobby, would you and Rene come over here? I need you to hold Bridget's 
arms for me. Osana, remember to pull your cock half way out every eight 
to ten seconds. That will allow a bit of air in through her nose. 
Concentrate on sucking, Bridget. Try to remain calm and get your air 
when you can. If you miss your chance, it's a long wait until Osana's 
next withdrawal."

The two students came quickly to assist their teacher. Bridget was 
struggling hard now, and making odd squeaks and muffled groans. "We have 
to stabilize you, Honey. I'm going to tie your hands now, is that OK?" 
Miss J. said sweetly to the frightened girl, as if she actually needed 
permission. Unable to respond, Bridget's saliva bubbled around Osana's 
cock, and tears were streaming from her frantic, wide-open eyes. Her 
teacher took some rope and tied her hands together behind her back while 
Bobby and Rene held her firmly. Without the use of her arms, Bridget 
suddenly became more compliant. She tried to suck dutifully, but 
couldn't accommodate the rubber giant. She was gagging and choking and 
having a terrible time of it. Osana was invading her throat mercilessly 
now. She delighted in holding the tool all the way down Bridget's throat 
for long cruel moments. With her lungs burning for breath, Bridget could 
only wait helplessly for her next chance to come up for air, praying 
each time she would make it.

At one point while Osana's cock was buried to the hilt, she heard Miss J 
tell Osana to "hold very still, and squeeze this bulb." Terrified, 
Bridget heard a hissing sound, and suddenly felt the cock inflating, 
growing larger still! Osana kept squeezing the bulb, increasing the size 
of the cock to the point where her victim thought her throat would 
surely burst. She was just beginning to pass out when Osana withdrew the 
dildo entirely from her mouth. Holding onto her shoulders and breasts, 
the two students kept the nearly-unconscious Bridget steady on her knees.

"Now, the other bulb!" cried Miss J., "Squeeze it hard, over and over!" 
A thick milky substance squirted from the end of the dildo, spraying 
into Bridget's gasping mouth, and splashing across her face. Desperate 
for air, Bridget inhaled some of the liquid as well. While Bridget 
choked on the bland-tasting fluid, Osana, drove her cock straight back 
down Bridget's throat. Just as any sadistic boy might've done while 
coming, she hammered away repeatedly with full strokes, oblivious of the 
pain it was causing the recipient.

"That's right, dear!" Miss J. encouraged her, "A hard dick has no 
conscience. Ram it back in there. Coat her throat with your sticky 
come." Her teacher reached out and pressed the bulb twice more, piling 
more of the liquid into the poor girl's gullet.

Osana held Bridget's hair in one hand as she continued to buck her hips. 
Her other hand was pulling and pinching at her own nipples, pleasuring 
herself with those sensitive organs. She cried out, climaxing hard, then 
withdrew her dildo, slick with the girl's saliva and the messy white 
substance. Bridget coughed and sobbed, heartbroken from her humiliation 
and pain. If not for the students holding her up she would have 
collapsed onto the floor.

"Beautifully done, Osana!" said Miss Juniper "You may begin humping 
Shara's ass now." 

Osana walked right over to the still slumbering Shara and lifted up the 
corner of material covering her buttocks. After positioning herself 
comfortably on the padded knee rails, she took careful aim at Shara's 
cute anus, barely an inch away from the tiny opening. Exhaling deeply, 
Osana pushed half of the slippery dildo into the girl's ass with one 
firm motion. Shara's head stirred under the silk coverlet, as she 
discovered a rubber intruder five or six inches inside her rectum. She 
had indeed awakened to the shock of having her ass violated. But her 
plight was only beginning. As Osana continued to push, the ever-widening 
shaft of rubber took its toll, wracking Shara's butt, just as it had 
Bridget's mouth. Cursing and crying could now be heard from the other 
end, under the fabric. Osana was taking up her rhythm now, with her 
hands gripping the girl's hips, driving the column of rubber deeper into 
Shara's ass. Osana's rough treatment held painful consequences for 
Shara's breasts too, which had continued to swell in their cruel steel 
confinements, even while she slept. 

"And thank you too, Bridget," Miss J. said softly to her helper, while 
the classroom's attention was focused on Shara's distress, "Osana's 
dildo was well lubricated for Shara's ass because of you. Hope that 
wasn't too rough, dear. The fluid contains an analgesic to soothe your 
throat, and a stimulant to help revive you. Are you feeling better yet, 
honey?

"Uhh, I guess so, Miss J." said Bridget, blinking tears from her eyes, 
and moving her jaw from side to side. "Boy, I thought I was done for.... 
can I get up now? I'd really like to get cleaned up."

"Sure," Miss J. agreed, "Students, help her up to her feet, please. You 
may take her to the sink and wash her face off for her." Bobby and Rene 
walked her over to the sink and began cleaning her face and neck with 
soap, water, and a washcloth.

"I don't mind doing it myself, Ma'am," said Bridget, "If you'll just 
untie my hands for me."

"Why should we do that?" Miss Juniper said, as she opened up her trusty 
makeup bag. She got out some base makeup and began smoothing it onto 
Bridget's well scrubbed face, softening the freckles on her nose and 
cheeks. "You're fine just like you are. So far you've participated in 
the fun by being my accomplice, and you've been a very good one. But now 
you get to experience things from an entirely different perspective. 
That of a victim.... I'm sure you'll do that very well too. Now I'm 
going to get you looking your very best. I¹ll give you a smoother 
complexion, and a sexy color for your lips.... " Miss J. pulled out her 
Passionberry lipstick and began stroking the deep red stain onto 
Bridget's mouth.

"B-But Miss J.," stammered the poor girl, "I wasn't.... well, what I 
mean is that I didn't..."

"Oh yes you did, dear," her teacher interrupted her in a casual tone, as 
she shook up the bottle of lipstick-sealing gloss, and began applying it 
on top of the rich color now bejewelling Bridget's lips, "Didn't you 
know? The moment you signed that form on my desk, and put on these 
beautiful bondage shoes for me, you were invoked. That's right. You 
became the property of the school and of this classroom. You were so 
sweet and perky about it, too. Even when I asked you about trying on a 
RG-61 for us, and you thoughtfully declined. How did you put it about 
Tiff and Sam? Oh yes! You said: "their goose was cooked anyway!" Well, 
darling, that pretty well sums it up for you, too. There.... your face 
and lips are all done, and they look just right. Good enough to eat. And 
people wonder why my ratings are some of the best on the Classroom 
Torture Channel!"

"Oh, God. Oh God. No..." Bridget cried, "I didn't understand. I didn't 
know. Please Miss J...."

"Of course you knew, darling," Miss J. replied, "We reviewed the laws of 
invokement and all their details over the last three weeks. Deep down, 
in your own special way, you knew it, and you asked for it. But 
excitement and anticipation wipes out the worries at first. Now you¹re 
just tasting the fear, which we will soon replace with pain.... and 
pleasure. It always works that way. Don't be embarrassed about it. Lots 
of girls react this way. Are you shocked that no one jumped up to warn 
you of your invokement? No lights or buzzers alarmed you to what was 
happening, did they? But it's OK. Sometimes, it just happens this way. 
The way it was meant to be, without planning, or fanfare, or anything 
special. Innocently, almost playfully, but nevertheless, most 
irrevocably...."

"But Ma'am," Bridget sobbed, "I was meeting Jeremy tonight. We were 
going to the movies. And I'm supposed to babysit Mrs. Chandler's kids 
tomorrow night. Oh, what'll I do?"

"Don't you worry about any of that," her teacher assured her. "It's 
really so simple for you now. You won't have any of those problems to 
think about, ever again. All you must do now, dear, is enjoy your snuff."

"But I'm to be tortured, right?" asked Bridget, "How am I supposed to 
enjoy that? I admit it. I love inflicting pain on other girls. Like that 
ring gag we used on Tiffany. I climaxed twice watching the thing go to 
work on her. But I never wanted that for myself....I can't imagine going 
through something as terrible as that....please...."

"Yes, of course you'll be tortured," said Miss J., "It's a vital part of 
your experience. But, don't worry about any of that; your body will tell 
you exactly what to do. As I¹ve said, it's all very simple for you now, 
very natural. Bobby....Rene, hold Bridget steady for me while I apply 
her gag...." 

Miss J. took the 2" steel hoop of an RG-61 ring gag and wedged it into 
the girl's mouth, locking her jaws into an agonizingly wide-open 
position. She then pulled the leather straps around her head and buckled 
them very tightly in back. 

"Now, that looks proper," said the cruel teacher, admiring the girl's 
mouth bondage, "Her lips look so sweet around that gag. I want you two 
to take Bridget into the supply room and place her into another 
MTP-5000, just like the one we have Shara locked into. Cut away her bra 
and confine her breasts exactly like we did Shara's. Don't engage the 
ring gag button, though. Or the breast spears. Just lock her into the 
platform, then wheel her back here, right beside Shara. Do you 
understand?"

"What do we do with the strap-on dildo she's wearing, Miss J?" Bobby 
asked, pointing to the eight inch black rubber appliance hanging between 
Bridget's legs, "Want us to remove it?"

"Hmmm, I guess you could..." said Miss J., "No, on second thought, since 
this one has a reversible buckle, just flip it around and strap it on 
inside of her. The poor thing thought she would get to use it on Shara, 
until her luck changed. You decide which opening it goes into." 

"Yes, Miss Juniper!" Rene answered. Smiling eagerly, Bobby and Rene 
began walking Bridget to the storeroom. She fainted twice along the way, 
but the two students supported her shoulders and arms, and kept her 
moving steadily toward her doom.

"Now, how is our other volunteer victim holding up?" Miss Juniper said, 
turning to Shara, who was still enduring the brutal ass-rape that 
Osana's dildo was dishing out. Miss J. whisked away the blue satin 
coverlet to reveal the tear stained face of a girl in dreadful pain. Her 
head bobbed up and down with each bounce, as Osana's hips drove the 
phallus hard into Shara's bruised bowels. Her breasts were fiery red, 
and badly swollen in their steel traps.

"Shara, dear?" Miss J asked, "How are we doing?"

"Horrible!" Shara blurted through her tears, "She won't stop with this 
thing.... It hurts like hell. Like she's splitting me apart... feels 
like she's killing me....Please make her stop. Please..."

"No reason to do that." Miss Juniper replied, "It appears Osana is still 
enjoying herself enormously back there. She has such stamina with those 
hips... She'll be done with your little pooper eventually... maybe after 
she gets another orgasm or two. Besides, as much as it may hurt, she's 
certainly not killing you with that dildo. There's hardly any blood on 
it yet. There is another model I have. It¹s similar to this one, but 
about three sizes larger. Now that one would kill you, by rupturing your 
cervix, or colon. Would you like her to use that one on you next?"

"Oh, God...no Ma'am....please. Don't let her do that.... this just hurts 
me so bad..."

"I know it does, honey," said her teacher, "And it's supposed to. But 
you haven't seen anything yet. Osana hasn't even touched your garotte. 
You'll be in for some more strangulation fun soon. But, first, I want 
you to look back up at the large monitor. We have something very special 
for you to see. Quiet, everyone, let's just watch."

Shara looked up, trying to clear her eyes of tears. The monitor¹s screen 
slowly came to life, revealing a close-up image of a pair of very tall 
high-heeled shoes. White platforms, just like the ones Shara, Samantha, 
Tiffany, and Bridget had been locked into, prior to their tortures. The 
heels were pointing backward, like they do when a woman is kneeling. The 
camera slowly moved across her legs and part way up her back to show a 
naked, kneeling woman whose wrists were tied together with rope behind 
her back. The camera was very close to the subject, and it was still 
impossible to tell who she was, or where she was. When it reached her 
elbows, the camera began moving sideways around her. An excited murmur 
could be heard from the class when a vertical steel brace was seen. A 
brace with a ratchet handle, just like the one that imprisoned Shara's 
tits. Viewers now knew that, whoever she was, this woman was locked into 
a MTP-5000, equipped with a breast-connect module, just like Shara's.

The students held their breath as the camera slowly moved past the steel 
post. Gradually, the woman's breasts came into view. They were 
magnificently large organs, clamped painfully into the breast-connect. 
Terribly swollen, and red, their owner was trapped in pure anguish. A 
pair of hands were stroking them lightly, adoringly. Every so often the 
fingers pinched at her nipples which were rock-hard and slightly blue. A 
slight whimper could be heard now, with each nipple pinch. The camera 
was in front of the victim, just beneath her face. Finally the chin of a 
half-bowed woman's head came into view. Then her lips. Shining, glossy 
red lips, painted generously with Passionberry Wine. The camera rose a 
bit more revealing the eyes, and the smooth cheeks tracked with mascara, 
and lots of recent tears. This woman was Shara's mother, Linda.

"Hi, Shara," Linda said, clearing her throat, "Your daddy couldn't wait 
to get started with my garotte torture. See?" She raised her head, and 
the rope garotte could be seen pressing its knot into the hollow of her 
throat. "But he was so excited about the breast thing they were using on 
you, he made arrangements to bring one to our house, along with those 
other things miss Juniper likes. You know, the shoes, ring gag, and 
all..." Her voice was pretty scratchy and she was having a hard time 
talking with the rope constriction at her neck.

"Oh, mama," Shara called out, her voice shaking with tears and from 
Osana's thrusts, "Not you too...why did they put you in this awful 
thing?"

"It's what your father wanted, dear," her mother said, "He decided that 
you and I should experience this thing together, over the 
vid-connection. I've been kneeling here like this ever since Bridget 
finished sucking that girl's dildo. Your father just finished strangling 
me, and fucking my throat, and he's already hard again. I've never seen 
him so turned on. Ooooh! God, that hurts....." Linda winced and moaned 
as her husband's hands tugged on her swollen nipples.

"That's right honey," Shara's father could be heard saying, "The school 
agreed to this setup as a way of punching up the vid values. Audiences 
will get to enjoy both you and your mother being tortured, along with 
those other girls. And I¹m having the time of my life. But as an added 
bonus you two will be able to look into each other's faces as we 
strangle you with your garottes. Isn't it great?"

"For you, maybe," Shara said, "But it won't be much fun for mom and me. 
Are you going to use that awful ring gag on her too?"

"Absolutely," her father replied. "We wouldn't dare miss that. I'll be 
using the barbs also, on both the gag and the breast-connect." The 
camera remained close on Linda's face, capturing the fear in her eyes. 

"That must mean you're going to snuff her too..." Shara said, sobbing 
between the dildo blows at her backside. "Ohhh, Daddy, how could you...."

"It's OK, dear," Linda said to her daughter, "If this pleases him, then 
it's exactly what I want him to do. His happiness means everything to 
me. Anyway, as you well know, it's been his right to torture or snuff me 
ever since I gave him my marriage vows. I'm very frightened, I admit. 
And I know you are too. But we're fulfilling our destiny, Shara. And we 
have to be brave for all the other girls watching us. What your teacher 
told us was true. As much as it hurt being strangled a while ago, he 
gave me the biggest climax I've ever felt. And we'll be together sort 
of, so maybe it won't be too bad. Your father's going to assfuck me now, 
and start choking on me again. Hang in there honey. Enjoy your orgasms 
and concentrate on your performance.... maybe they'll let you live 
through this. I love you....."

Linda's eyes grew wide and glassy. Her face turned red, and her mouth 
flew open, straining to get a breath of air. Her face was a study of 
unrelenting pain. The strangulation and ass rape had apparently begun. A 
moment later Shara felt Osana's fingers take the ring at the back of her 
garotte, and begin to twist it. The flow of air to Shara's lungs stopped 
immediately, and through a haze of pain, she realized that her mother 
was seeing her face as clearly as she saw hers....mother and daughter 
were indeed sharing this unique experience. It wasn't very much comfort 
to know they were suffering together, but right now it was about all the 
comfort they had. 


End of part VI
© 1999, Aiken

"High-heeled hell" Part VII
 By Aiken © 2000

Bobby and Rene took Bridget into the supply room, and closed the door 
behind them. There in the center of the room was the last of the three 
MTP-5000's. These were the test models of a brand-new design of mobile 
torture platform loaned to Miss Juniper by Kilo Industrials for her 
classroom snuff demonstrations. This one was still covered with a blue 
satin sheet just like the other two had been. Bridget was still sobbing 
with fear and betrayal, after discovering she had to join Miss Juniper's 
three other snuff victims. She would have given anything to be able to 
talk to her two classmates, and try to bargain with them for her life... 
or even to request a quick and painless death. But Miss Juniper had seen 
to it that she could ask for nothing. Bridget's tongue was immobilized, 
and her jaws wedged open with the cruelest of gags imaginable...The 
RG-61, Kilo's diabolical new ring gag, that was also being tested out on 
Miss J's students Tiffany and Samantha. This gag featured hidden 
extrudable barbs designed to pierce the victim's cheeks, tongue and 
palate, with the depression of a single button. 

This day had been full of surprises and smashed hopes. First it was 
Tiffany and Samantha surprising their class by volunteering to hang. 
This demonstration of a slow-hang was to be their dream come true. They 
had both planned to give a sexy 40 to 50 minute performance of pain, 
dancing on air in their slow nooses, before their final orgasms and 
death. But Miss Juniper's surprise announcement of Creativity Day had 
changed all that. Creativity Day, where once or twice a year, the 
students and teacher brainstorm on how to make a snuffee's ordeal 
infinitely more unpleasant. Now the two girls stood in front of their 
classroom, perched on thumbtack-lined 7-inch platform heel shoes, slowly 
hanging on tiptoe as they had for nearly 5 hours...with their torsos 
quivering in misery from yards of barb-wire wrapped tightly around their 
breasts, shoulders and back in gruesome parodies of brassieres. Their 
tender mouths were trapped open by ring-gags identical to poor 
Bridget's. Tiffany's mouth had already undergone the bloody extrusion of 
the RG-61's 1-inch spears, as poor Samantha looked on, tearfully 
awaiting a similar fate.

Then little Shara was asked to be Miss Juniper's helper, and she happily 
agreed. But in the process she unwittingly committed to becoming another 
snufftoy for her class, clad in the same fashionable heels as the two 
hanging volunteers wore. Shara was forced to perform fellatio and submit 
to garotte torture and ass rape, while kneeling in the breast crushing 
embrace of the MTP-5000. Her only hope was a deal she had struck with 
Miss J. that might allow her to see another day, but only if she 
performed enthusiastically and erotically enough for the class, and the 
millions of live-feed viewers. Then, to make matters worse, Shara's 
beautiful mother Linda was undergoing the same torments at home as her 
daughter was at school. Perched atop the third identical torture 
platform, and wearing the same heels, Linda was being brutalized by her 
husband, who had been so inspired by Miss J's broadcast that he ordered 
the equipment brought to his house within the hour. The Classroom 
Torture Channel had gotten in on the act, finding a way to link the 
doomed mother and daughter together through a two way vid-screen. They 
could keep virtual-company with each other as they suffered, while their 
viewing audience masturbated and made high-resolution recordings of the 
drama. CTC's worldwide broadcast of this outrage was, at this moment, 
enjoying the best ratings seen in years.

Now Bridget found herself caught in Miss Juniper's ever-widening snuff 
net. After agreeing to be another one of her teacher's high-heeled 
helpers, she soon found herself being hauled off by two of her 
classmates, who were just following Miss J's orders to prepare Bridget 
for a deadly ride aboard the MTP-5000. Life could be so cruel in Miss 
Juniper's Torture/Snuff Theory II class!

"Hey, you got those scissors?" Bobby asked Rene, "We have to remove her 
bra and flip this dildo strap around like Miss J. said. You decide where 
she gets to wear the stupid thing, OK?."

"Ok," Rene answered, pulling a pair of scissors out of a basket of 
supplies and handing them to Bobby, "We better hurry. It's a little past 
four now, and Miss J. is supposed to finish Tiff and Sam off by 5 
o'clock. I don't want to miss anything good." Rene was pretty, a very 
petite girl, almost as small as Osana, but with slightly larger boobs 
and a shapelier ass which she liked to show off in tight spandex pants. 
She had very dark hair, cut into a style shorter than most boys wear. 
Rene was far from butch-looking, though, because she always wore lots of 
makeup. Dark eyeliners and edgy lipsticks were her stock in trade. She 
had kept her pants and top on earlier, while she and the other girls 
were choosing dildos to use on Shara. Rene had left her equipment 
choices on her desk when Miss J. called for help in restraining Bridget.

"Cool." answered Bobby removing the blue silk coverlet, "Look at that, 
this MTP is different from the other two. It has those little spikes all 
over it, like Miss J. was telling us about."

"Snags, Bobby, snags," Rene said, making a face, "Don't you ever listen?"

While Bobby cut off Bridget's sports bra, Rene undid the buckle on 
Bridget's dildo strap, eyed the realistically-veined black rubber penis 
appreciatively, and tried to decide which opening to put it into. "I'm 
gonna put it in her ass, I think," she said finally, "but it needs some 
lube." She unzipped her fanny pack and pulled out a tube almost twice 
the size of a regular lipstick. "This colored lip-gloss is very oily and 
gooey. It should do the trick. Guys dig it cause it's super shiny. Plus 
it has this cool orange glitter in it, and has a wild cinnamon scent. It 
really heats up the lips when you kiss. But If you get much of it on 
your tongue it burns like hell. I'm going to put a half-bottle of it on 
this big cock and cram it up her butt. That should get her 
attention....." Bridget's eye's were fluttering wildly, and she was 
trying to grunt something, but nothing recognizable was coming from her 
mouth except large amounts of drool. Rene completely ignored her 
attempts at expression, talking to Bobby about her fate as if she wasn't 
even there.

This is completely normal behavior. From early childhood people are 
taught to understand that when a subject is bound and invoked, they are 
transformed. In a sense, they are no longer people, merely ready-to-use 
receptacles for pain and humiliation. Their gestalt is reduced to two 
simple functions. To stimulate us with the sights, sounds, and feelings 
of their suffering, and to provide us with a permanent record of their 
erotic demise. They arrive at that status consensually and legally. So 
it is appropriate for well-adjusted co-moderators, or hangman's helpers, 
to enjoy their victim's newly-chosen and correct purpose.

"Yeah, yeah, sure..." answered Bobby who had finished removing Bridget's 
bra, "You and Miss J. both got that thing going on about makeup. Like 
it's so damned important...." He pulled roughly on Bridget's chin, 
tugging her head down towards the MTP-5000. He caused her to stumble in 
her platform heels, and fall on the steel platform. Her knees crashed 
onto the baseplate, and the poor girl shrieked out in pain. "Scoot 
forward, bitch," he said to her casually, disregarding her plight with 
1/8 inch steel snags tearing into her defenseless knees. "Get in the 
middle of it, and push your tits toward the openings."

Sobbing horribly through the two-inch steel ring, and summoning all her 
courage, Bridget did her best to comply. She tried to go carefully, but 
it made no difference. The snags were everywhere, less than an inch 
apart, their cruelty uncompromising. They punctured her knees and shins 
with each movement, leaving little bloody tracks behind her. Bridget 
pressed forward an inch at a time in a dreadful exercise of 
self-mutilation.

"That's bullshit, Bobby," said Rene, "You know it excites you. But you 
don't want to admit it. I've never met a guy yet who didn't get turned 
on when he watched me put on my lipstick, or when he got close enough to 
smell it on my shiny lips." Smiling devilishly at the boy, she stepped 
up very close to him and took the open bottle, which had a bright orange 
ball on it, and rolled it around and around until her two sparkling 
orange-painted lips shone like lamps, throbbing like neon signs atop 
pavilions of sex flashing: Eat-at-Rene's.....Eat-at-Rene's. A rich 
cinnamon perfume filled the air, tinged with the pheromones of two 
sexually active teens. "Cinnamon-Orange.... Heat-Burst, Bobby....." she 
whispered to him with her lips barely an inch from his. "Now 
confess...." she added in the sultriest whisper she could manage, "Don't 
you just love ..... my new lipgloss?"

Bobby moved his mouth forward to taste her lips, but Rene pulled her 
face away, smiling triumphantly. "See there?" she said, pointing at the 
erection straining at his trousers, "I rest my case."

"OK, already," Bobby conceded, a little embarrassed, "Guess when you put 
it that way, I do kinda like it. We can discuss that some more later, 
OK? Right now we gotta finish doing her up. Miss J. wants her back in 
there pretty quick."

"That's a deal," Rene agreed cheerfully, rubbing her lipgloss all over 
the 8-inch rubber cock now destined for Bridget's pooper. Soon it was as 
slippery as her lips. "And a promise, Bobby. Cause I've got lots of 
other exciting lipstick tricks to show you." When she had the dildo 
drooling with the stuff, she kneeled down where Bridget was crouching 
and moaning in agony. She rolled the tube around  Bridget's anus several 
times, till it was dripping wet with orange sparkling goo. She pushed it 
against her anal opening until the ball disappeared, then pulled it back 
out. She repeated the motions a little bit deeper, until she was slowly 
fucking Bridget's ass with about half of the four inch long by one inch 
wide tube. Bridget started moaning in a higher pitch, as she felt the 
burning sensation start to mount. "Feel that, baby?" Rene asked her, "Of 
course you do...so nice and hot....Hey, Bobby, you got her tits through 
the openings on the breast-connect, yet?"

"Sort of, Ren," he answered from the other side, "But I need your help. 
She's wiggling around pretty bad, and resisting the faceplate cause it's 
got snags on it too, but my hands are busy holding on to her tits."

"No problem, be right there," She said, stroking Bridget's pussy and 
continuing to assfuck her with her lipstick tube. "Now Bridget, sweetie, 
you know we have to do this, and we need your help, so I'm going to park 
this pretty lipstick right in here for a minute, while we fix up your 
tits." She pushed the tube in further until it disappeared, and the 
flower of her wet anus closed around it, holding it fast. "Now be a good 
girl, and don't poop this back out yet, OK? I want you to think about 
how hot my little lipstick tube is making your ass feel. Remember, 
that's my horny little dick in there, keeping you warm and sexy for me. 
That'll help take your mind off your tits, and knees and everything. Now 
if you work with me, I'll be gentle with the dildo going in. But If you 
don't cooperate, I bet I can make you feel that rubber dick hit your 
tonsils. Plus, I could always throw that other lever and tell Miss J. 
that we speared your breasts by accident. So do we have a deal, baby?" 
Her middle finger tapped lightly on the bottom of the tube sitting just 
a fraction of an inch inside her tight anus, as she whispered her nasty 
warnings to the girl. Bridget nodded her head, and grunted in the 
affirmative. She would do her best. That was really all she could do 
anyway.

"Good girl!" said Rene, as she moved up near the front of the MTP-5000 
and to Bridget's left shoulder. "Arch your back for me, honey!" she 
said, "And push forward!" Rene held her left hand on the back of 
Bridget's neck, and her right hand pressed the middle of Bridget's back, 
under her bound arms, shoving her forward into the breast-connect. "Pull 
them through, Bobby!" Rene said to her accomplice. Bridget squealed with 
shock, as her breast flesh was pulled rudely thru the openings. She 
howled like a wild animal as the areas around the breast openings, 
heavily laden with snags, embraced her torso, piercing her in dozens of 
intimate places.

"Got em thru ok, Bobby? Rene called out, holding the pain-wracked girl 
against the vertical faceplate of the breast-connect module.

"You bet," he said, excitedly pulling on Bridget's breast flesh, "Far as 
these big boobs can go. Can you tighten the ratchet for me now?" His 
question was met with the clicking sounds of the ratchet lever going up 
and down, over and over. As Rene's right hand held Bridget against the 
plate, her left hand worked the lever, tightening the steel bands hidden 
inside the module. The devices encircling the base of Bridget's breasts 
were closing down, squeezing her tits ferociously. With each breath, 
Bridget screamed with a new found intensity, until finally Rene paused 
to ask Bobby if they were looking tight enough.

"Yeah, I guess so," Bobby said, grinning at his friend, "Look at them." 
Rene walked to the front and saw Bridget's size 37's poking out, 
misshapen, and turning purple. Her big nipples were pointing straight 
out, and looked to be so hard they could almost pop off. Their poor 
victim was just panting now, all out of screams, grateful that her 
tormentors had stopped smashing her poor mams. 

"Hey, that's looking pretty good," Rene exclaimed, "Even tighter than 
Shara's tits. Miss J. will really like that. Look how hard her nipples 
are, Bobby. Guess this is making you a pretty horny slut after all, huh, 
Bridget?" Bridget made some sad groans, which Rene disregarded. She 
walked back to the other end of the platform and picked up the slippery 
dildo and harness. "Time to get you buggered, girlfriend."

"Hey, what about that lipstick tube? Aren't you going to get it out 
first?" Bobby asked.

"Oh, yeah." Rene suddenly remembered, "It's still in there, isn't it?" 
She put her fingertip into Bridget's ass and felt for the bottom of the 
tube. "Yeah, there it is, parked right by the exit. But you know....It's 
almost empty now. Nahh, I don't need it anymore. Here you go, honey. 
I'll be nice and gentle, just like I promised you......" Rene placed the 
shiny dildo against the girl's anal opening and pushed. The head of the 
slippery black phallus popped inside without any problem. She twisted it 
gently and then pushed it in some more. Bridget squealed as she felt the 
fat rubber cock moving inside her, stretching her, and pushing an 
abandoned lipstick tube ahead of it. Both intruders were dripping with 
Rene's burning lip potion, making Bridget sweat all over from the fiery 
pain. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. Rene just kept 
screwing the damn thing deeper into her ass a little bit at a time, 
totally unconcerned that a lipstick was being shoved in there, being 
lost inside of her somewhere. It was incomprehensible.

"Ooooh, God, I can't believe that," said Bobby, "Look at that. That's so 
nasty. I can't believe it. You are soo-oo nasty." Rene's eyes were 
locked onto Bobby's, smiling the dirtiest smile a girl can make. Proudly 
fucking the girl with both a dildo and her discarded lipstick, and 
driving the boy insane with lust. Bobby's hands went right to his cock, 
freeing the stiff member from his pants, and stroking it, filling it up 
with the same pleasure that his eyes were drinking in, a pleasure that 
defied description. 

Bridget moaned and whimpered in torment, as Rene continued to fuck her 
ass. Her head slumped over the front of the MTP-5000. All of her tears 
were cried out. The girl was broken, degraded, her dignity crushed and 
forgotten. Rene was rubbing the girl's pussy continuously now, as she 
fucked the dildo in deeper and harder, cramming the lipstick tube 
farther into the unreachable abyss of Bridget's pretty butt. She 
couldn't believe it, but as she relaxed and surrendered herself to this 
hopeless predicament, something amazing began to happen. She was 
responding. Suddenly her pussy was radiating tremendous heat, more heat 
than her burning ass, tits and knees put together felt. Bridget began 
climaxing. Over and over, she came, jerking and rotating her hips, her 
pelvis grinding into her ass rape, her pussy spasming with pure 
spontaneous pleasure. "That's a good girl," Rene was saying to her over 
and over, "You're doing great. Go with it, girl....fuck my dildo, fuck 
my hand...that's my good girl" She had worked her hand almost completely 
inside the girls wet pussy, stretching and reaming it as rudely as the 
dildo was trashing her ass.

"Oh, shit, look at that, you're making the bitch come....." Bobby 
mumbled as his hand kept stroking his fully erect penis. "She's being 
tortured to pieces, Her breasts and knees are a mess. You're even 
cramming garbage up her ass....and still you've got her coming like a 
freight train. Oh, this is so totally hot....."

"Go for it, baby," Rene said to Bobby, "You're ready to pop one, aren't 
you? Then just go for it. Go over there and pour your love-juice in her 
mouth. It's opened up as wide as a girl can have it....."

"Shit yeah," said Bobby, "Why not?" He went over to Bridget's face and 
shoved his dick through the 2 inch opening of her RG-61. It was a tight 
fit, but with the girl's tongue pinned to the bottom of her mouth the 
coast was clear for sliding his big cock down Bridget's throat. He 
couldn't believe how good this felt. He moved it slowly in till it was 
buried in her throat. She was gagging, and trying to turn away, but 
couldn't resist him. Her breast bondage held her fast. "Oh this is 
great..." He said, as he slowly withdrew, then reentered her warm, 
slippery throat."Yeah. You can't do shit. Take me, bitch, take it all 
the way down that neck. Here you go. Here comes my nut.....yeah... 
oooohhhh...." Bobby started bucking his hips and shooting his sperm into 
Bridget's mouth. She was frantically trying to accept his cock and 
breath at the same time. It wasn't easy. She was choking, both on his 
thick liquid, and his big dick. The come just kept pouring out of him. 
"Shit, I can't believe this. I'm still going....I'm, oh, damn..... 
shit...aaahhhhh....shit, oh, eat me, you fucking bitch, eat it all up." 

Bridget, of course, had no choice but to eat his scum all up. The fluid 
pumping out of his dick went directly down her throat, and into her 
stomach. The ring-gag allowed for nothing less. When his climax was 
finally spent, he relaxed, looked over at Rene, who was still smiling 
wickedly back at him. "Was that pretty good, Bobby?" she asked him 
coyly. She was taking the straps of the dildo harness and buckling them 
firmly around Bridget's hips, and tightening the crotch strap so that 
the girl's ass would remain fully packed with rubber for the foreseeable 
future.

The boy's smile said it all. His eyes were silently saying: "What do you 
think?". He just stood there on trembling knees, in a happy 
post-orgasmic trance, with his softening tool still lodged in their 
fucktoy's mouth. He took a couple of deep breaths and let out another 
moan. This moan was accompanied by a squeal from Bridget who began 
tensing up again. Her shoulders tried to twist away from him, but the 
MTP-5000, and his firm hands on her face, disallowed it. She was 
struggling frantically, strangling on something, choking, gagging...her 
throat muscles working overtime to keep her alive.

"Oooooh, you're doing it, aren't you?" Rene said to him, her smile 
bigger than ever, "You nasty boy! You're pissing into her throat, aren't 
you? I can see her swallowing like crazy..."

"Uhh-huh...." he answered, still in a dull haze of pleasure. A couple 
more deep breaths, and he was finally done. He pulled his penis from 
inside of Bridget's ring-gag, and zipped his pants back up. Bridget 
spluttered and coughed, desperate for air. She was blowing liquid from 
her nose as she panted and moaned piteously. They both ignored her 
cries. "I always wanted to do that to a fuck slut," Bobby said kind of 
sheepishly to Rene. "Man, I'm telling you, that felt so damn good..."

"I'll bet it did, you dirty boy." she said smiling, putting her creamy 
lips close to his. "But don't feel bad about it. I never saw that 
before, and it made me hot. I had lots of fun watching you do it...." 
She kissed his mouth gently, moving her lips around a little so he could 
taste her lipgloss, and feel the heat.

"Mmmm, that is pretty hot stuff..." he said, "I like it. Too bad you 
lost your tube inside of her."

"That's OK, I have lots more at home," Rene whispered, "And we'll have 
some more fun later!" 

"Let's go, baby." Rene said, as she held open the door that led back to 
the classroom. Bobby pushed Bridget's platform out to join Shara and the 
others. As they re-entered the room, everyone broke into applause, 
complete with whistles and cheers. There had been cameras in the 
storeroom, capturing every nuance of their erotic experience, and 
transmitting it back to their teacher and classmates, and millions of 
bug-eyed viewers. Their performance had apparently gone over very well. 
Bobby and Rene hugged each other and laughed out loud, knowing that 
their families would enjoy a small but very valuable share in the 
vid-royalties, something called a "live share" since Rene didn't have to 
die to earn her portion of it.

"Bravo!" They could hear Miss Juniper calling out above the din of happy 
applause. "Bravo, students! The best live share marks I've seen. Bring 
our sweet Bridget up to the front here next to Shara. We have only 30 
minutes left before finishing off Tiff and Sam, and we still have to 
vote on Bridget and Shara's fate."


End of part VII
© 2000, Aiken

"High-heeled hell" Part VIII
By Aiken 2000

Pulling up to the large Victorian-style home, Allie parked alongside the 
other vehicles in her friends' driveway, and leaned into her rear view 
mirror to check her makeup. She had retouched her cheeks and lips 
several minutes earlier, before entering the liquor store, and they 
still passed Allie's freshness test. Her shining red lips were still 
impeccably lined, moist and kissable, her cheeks were still richly 
contoured with powder and blush. Her beautiful eyes were the same as 
they always were...permanently lined and shadowed, and full of 
smoldering sex appeal. But they sparkled with an extra mirth tonight. 
Allie had just gotten a raise, and her long-awaited promotion. She 
couldn't wait to share this good news with her two dearest friends.

Clutching her purse under one arm and a bottle of chilled champaign 
under the other arm, she shut her car door and made her way up the steps 
to the front door, moving sinuously in her tight green vinyl dress and 
matching high heels. Allie hadn't gone home to change clothes yet, so 
this new lady executive and program director at a local radio station 
would be wearing her power dressing a bit longer than usual. But that 
was fine, since she knew Dirk and Belinda loved to see her at her 
feminine best. There hadn't been enough time to plan anything more 
extravagant than this. But taking off from work an hour early, buying a 
bottle of bubbly, and an impromptu get-together with her old college 
chums would have to do. With her provocative look, it might even lead to 
something they all loved to share together... sex.

She rang the bell and waited. A moment later Dirk appeared at the 
doorway, smiling broadly. He was wearing a bathrobe, and quickly 
welcomed her inside. "Hi, Al!" he said, hugging her warmly, "You look 
good enough to eat! What brings you by tonight?"

"Feast away, baby. I came to celebrate my new promotion with you and 
BeBe," Allie said, holding up the bottle of champagne. Dirk always 
called his wife Linda, but Allie still loved to call her BeBe, using 
Belinda's pet name that their sorority sisters had given her 15 years 
ago.

"That's great news, Al." he said, taking the bottle from her hands, 
giving her a hard kiss and another hug, "Congratulations. You picked the 
perfect time to party with us, too. Come see what that wild girlfriend 
of yours is up to." His kiss and comments sent tingles careening up 
Allie's spine. This was perfect. Apparently they were already up to 
something hot and sexy that she could slip right into....

Allie, who recently turned 33, was an absolute knockout. She was a tall 
statuesque blonde with greenish-blue eyes. At nearly five foot, eight 
inches, she stood taller than most women, especially in her 5-inch 
heels. But Dirk still towered over her at 6 foot, 6 inches. Allie had 
been married for seven years while in her twenties, but her Stanley died 
in a train wreck when she was 28. His insurance policies, and the 
lawsuit settlements hadn't made her rich, but they allowed her to live 
very comfortably, while raising her one daughter, and cultivating a 
radio career. She loved Stanley, but he had been a hard husband, moody 
and cruel, especially in bed. She often worried that he would snuff her 
himself, which every husband has the freedom to do, or enter her in one 
of the public wive's lotteries, as he often threatened her, either for 
the prize money, or just to punish her for something.

Wive's lotteries culled hundreds of women each day to be publicly 
tortured, hung or roasted, or to live out short lives of brutal 
servitude in a variety of sex industries. If a man wanted the freedom to 
remarry, or if he was bored or in any way dissatisfied with his wife, he 
could choose to have her identity code included in one of these 
lotteries. Once entered, a wife's code would be automatically re-entered 
each day for two years, or until selected. A husband submitting her to 
the lottery collected a sizeable cash award up front, and a much larger 
sum of money when she was chosen. He could not change his mind, or her 
possible fate, till her time ran out, and was not allowed to snuff her 
in the interim without repaying the cash award. If a wife escaped 
selection for two years she was declared a survivor, automatically 
granted a divorce, and given a substantial cash settlement to begin a 
new life.

Surviving a lottery was the only legal way a woman could obtain a 
divorce from her husband. For that reason, some women would sign 
themselves up and take their chances. This of course required the 
husband's consent, and all prize monies were issued to him just the 
same. Odds of her being picked for one of twenty-six different lethal 
assignments on any given day were usually about one in 2000. A wife 
could be selected and taken away as quickly as 24 hours, but her number 
rarely surfaced for several months. This daily suspense could torture a 
girl more than almost anything. Keen public interest in wive's lotteries 
and their ensuing events bankrolled the operation. Gate receipts at 
weekly festivals, feast days, hangings, and dozens of other attractions 
featuring lottery victims primed the pump. But the big revenue came 
through the sale of lottery chances, or tickets. People bought tickets 
trying to match one of the selected wive's secret identity codes, or the 
randomly selected numbers of her assignment group. Players could win 
huge cash prizes, as well as options to participate directly in the 
rape, torture, and snuff of one or more of the women in question. 

But Allie was spared any such fate with the untimely death of her 
spouse. Her pressure to satisfy him had been lifted for 5 years, and she 
discovered that she rather enjoyed being unmarried. Lottery-surviving 
divorcees, as well as unremarried widows with one or more children to 
raise were called "loophole ladies." They were set free from any husband 
commandeering them, and having ultimate commission over their life and 
death. But Allie deeply missed having a husband, and enjoying sanctioned 
sex every night, even if it meant being bound up, whipped, strangled, 
threatened, or otherwise mistreated sometimes. That's why her friendship 
with Dirk and Belinda was so important to her. She turned to them often 
for companionship, and highly fulfilling, if sometimes kinky, sex.

Dirk shut the front door, and locked it securely, then took Allie gently 
by the arm. They crossed the spacious entry hall together, stepping over 
a number of heavy cables and equipment boxes along the way. It struck 
Allie as kind of odd that Dirk was in his bathrobe, and this foreign 
clutter was laying about his usually immaculate home. She quickly 
brushed those thoughts aside. She was here to relax and have fun, after 
all. Inside the living room Allie got the shock of her life.

In the middle of the floor her lifelong friend was kneeling on a bizarre 
platform with her arms tightly bound behind her. A front piece of the 
platform clamped her large breasts like some kind of modern-day stocks. 
Except for a pair of outrageously tall white platform heels, and an 
unusually heavy layer of makeup on her face, Belinda was entirely naked. 
Her head hung limply over a padded rail atop the metal faceplate that 
enclosed her tits. Belinda's breasts were severely swollen, and a dark 
splotchy blue. Her face was ashen. Professional looking video equipment 
was positioned around the room on rolling racks. Three muscular 
technicians were present, two of them manning portable cameras, roving 
quietly around the room. A third man was standing at a narrow console, 
speaking softly into a headset. This explained the cables and equipment 
boxes, as well as the extra cars in the driveway, but nothing else.

"My god, Dirk," Allie cried, rushing over to lift Belinda¹s head from 
the rail, "What have you done to her? What's this twisted around her 
neck? Rope... Oh! The poor dear....you've been strangling her 
again....have you killed her this time? My poor, poor baby." One of the 
camera men moved closer, directing his lens at her and her motionless 
friend. Behind him Allie saw her own tear-filled expression appear on 
one of the video monitors.

"No, of course not." Dirk answered, "Now take it easy, Al. She's fine. 
Just unconscious for a couple of minutes, recovering from some 
asphyxia-induced orgasms. She'll come around soon enough, ready for 
another go. This device around her throat is a garotte. It's the sexiest 
breath-play toy you've ever seen, and I know you've seen plenty of them. 
I've been strangling her off and on for the last couple of hours. That 
hot teacher over at Shara's torture and snuff class gave me the idea of 
using the garotte and all these other gadgets on Linda here. I requested 
them to be sent here, along with these network boys. I'm having a blast, 
and we're getting the best live-ratings CTC has pulled since all those 
ambassadors' daughters were hanged a few years ago. This thing is making 
us incredibly rich, Al."

"The Classroom Torture Channel?" Allie asked, her expression changing 
from stunned to dubious, what are they doing broadcasting here? This 
isn't a schoolroom."

"No, of course it isn't." Dirk replied, smiling bigger than before. But 
that is..." He pointed to a large monitor mounted on a low rack in front 
of Belinda. In the monitor another girl was shown kneeling in the same 
fashion as Allie's dear friend. "That's Shara right now at school, in 
Miss J's class, getting the same treatment as her mother here. They are 
linked up through a real-time vid connection. That little asian girl has 
been reaming her ass with a cone-shaped dildo, and choking her into 
submission just like I have been doing to Linda. This is the first time 
ever for a mother/daughter combo, with them keeping each other company 
over a live vid link. Viewers worldwide are going bonkers over this 
thing, and so is our bank account."

"Jesus, Dirk," Allie said, her expression switching back to shock, then 
horror, "You can't be serious... Not Shara too. Your own daughter. I 
held her in my arms not too many years ago. She can't be ready for 
something as miserable as this."

"What do you mean? It all started with her." Dirk responded, "She 
volunteered today at school. That's right...she signed a quick-release 
and everything. Really surprised us too. As you know, law forbids 
parents from participating in any way when a daughter volunteers. But 
the liaison officer notified us and gave us the option to say goodbye 
over the link. Then I got this neat idea to do Linda too, just like Miss 
Juniper does her girls. You know, with the same high heels, lipstick, 
and everything. We were both so turned on by the things Miss J. was 
talking about, and demonstrating on the girls, It sounded too good not 
to try it out. The school and network guys loved my idea, and jumped all 
over it. I've lost track of how many times I've come so far. But I'll 
bet Linda and Shara have climaxed more times than I have...That's the 
way that damn garotte thing works. Now go ahead and puff some air into 
Linda's mouth, Allie. That should wake her up a little faster. She'll 
have plenty more to tell you about all this if her voice is still 
working."

Allie was distraught seeing her friend in such a dire predicament. But 
at least she understood now. Just like Stanley used to do, Dirk enjoyed 
playing rough bondage games with his wife. Strangling her and whipping 
her was a regular part of their sex life, and Allie had often enjoyed 
these activities with them. But Bebe always said she knew where it would 
end up someday. Could that day really be today? Allie knelt down in 
front of her friend's tranquil face, pressed her lips to Belinda's lips 
and blew steadily into her. One breath, then two. In the corner of her 
eye she saw Dirk open his bathrobe slightly and begin to stroke his 
enormous cock. "The bastard," she thought, "Even now..." He always loved 
the sight of women kissing. Whenever two ladies' thickly painted lips 
met in a kiss it completed an electric circuit for him, with hot sparks 
dancing through his dick. She and Belinda had spent many happy hours 
igniting those sparks.

Belinda was a gorgeous shapely 35 year old woman, with large brown eyes 
and medium-length chestnut hair, streaked with henna highlights. She 
worked on her figure relentlessly, and it showed. Her waist was trim and 
hard, and her succulent boobs were large to die for. She had lived far 
longer than most married women do in this strange Dolcettian world, 
probably for doing such a good job of pleasing her husband in bed, and 
for participating in wild groupsex with him and close friends like 
Allie. And also because she was such a great-looking trophy wife who 
truly enjoyed the submissive role of women in the late 2100's. Dirk was 
the kind of large domineering man that fulfilled her in every way. His 
family had built a small chain of dry cleaners and laundromats that made 
him very well-to-do. Dirk often teased of snuffing Belinda by age 40 and 
trading her in for two twenties. But the closer she got to that age the 
more the girls were starting to believe his threat. The idea both 
frightened and excited Belinda, who adored her rich, handsome husband 
beyond all measure.

Now it was Allie's turn to be frightened, as she kept puffing little 
bits of air into Belinda's mouth. She might lose her closest female 
friend in all the world, and on the same day that her career took the 
biggest jump ever. Suddenly Belinda jerked a couple of times and cried 
out. She was coming to...

"BeBe, can you hear me?" Allie said, holding the woman's face and 
watching for her eyes to clear, "It's Allie. Honey, are you OK? Please, 
wake up, baby."

"Mnn-hmm." Belinda answered her, slowly finding her senses, "I didn't 
know you were coming over, Al....I'd give you a hug, but you see how it 
is...."

"Of course I do," Allie said, hugging her friend's tear-streaked face, 
smelling the rich perfume of her hairspray and cosmetics. With their 
left cheeks pressed tightly together, she whispered into her ear, "Are 
you alright, Be? You had me scared there. It looked like Dirk had gone 
all the way with you, and made you his snuff victim."

"I know," Belinda said in a scratchy sing-song voice, "And that's 
exactly what he's going to do. But I'm alright, Allie. Well, what I mean 
is...I'm not alright. This hurts like absolute living hell, but that's 
OK. I've never seen my husband so pleased. He's getting all of me today, 
and that makes me the happiest woman alive. He says I am making him the 
richest man in town. He says he'll make me last as long as he can, give 
me as many orgasms as a woman can have. He's taking exactly what he 
wants from me, and I want him to have it. Easy with my breasts hon' 
....you can't imagine how this thing makes them feel. It's like someone 
stuffed my boobs into a tight bag, pounded them with a meat tenderizer, 
then made the bag even tighter. It's strange, because I don't think 
Dirk's hardly touched them."

"That's because of the swelling, dear." Allie said, "They look awful. 
Maybe I can release them and get some circulation going back into 
them..."

"No, no..." Belinda warned, "You mustn't try that. Well, what I mean is 
you can't. The bands that hold my breasts are locked into place. Dirk 
has the only key that can release them, and he doesn't intend to use it. 
But there's more. There are these little spears that he plans to unleash 
later.....they will stab into them, doing all kinds of damage. So what I 
am feeling now is really nothing.... compared to what it will feel like 
then. Besides, Shara is experiencing everything the same as me. That's 
giving me some courage. If she can take it, then so must I."

"Oohh, Bebe... we have to stop this." Allie cried, "This can't be 
happening to my best friend. Dirk, we have to stop this right now."

"You don't understand do you?" Dirk said gently, "She really wants to do 
this. Forget her pain and all that being-brave-for-her-daughter 
bullshit. She's our snufftoy now, and she's already hooked on the sex, 
on the orgasms that only the garotte can give her. Hell, if I turned her 
loose right now she'd probably fight me to get back under its spell." 
They both turned to look at Belinda. She looked up at Dirk and Allie 
with a silent half-smile that didn't deny anything he had just said.

"That's bullshit," said Allie, after a thoughtful pause, "The kind of 
stuff a hard cock wants to hear, and nothing more. She's 
confused...delirious. She should be set free right now, and so should 
her daughter. There has to be some mistake with that business at the 
school anyway. Shara's too young to be subjected to anything so cruel." 
Dirk backed away from the baleful stare of the cameras, and silently 
motioned Allie into the hallway with him, where he could speak to her 
conspiratorially.

"Listen, Allie, I see how you're feeling, all shocked and everything," 
Dirk said in a low whisper. "But you need to settle your ass down right 
now. Your demands aren't going to change anything here. And I don't need 
to remind you of the trouble you can get into for interfering with a 
legal snuff. The law is one hundred percent on my side, and so is public 
opinion. But it would sure mean a lot to Linda if you could support her 
on this decision. You always were her absolute favorite love partner 
....and mine. What if you were to stick around and sort of be a 
hangman's helper? It would comfort her so much to know it was you 
helping me out in there. And don't forget that little thing called a 
live-share. By participating, you would receive a nice slice of the 
royalties we're creating, which are going to be enormous. Sure you can 
go manage that radio station at your new job, but you could buy the 
whole damn station with the money you'll be making here tonight, and 
making your best friend happy at the same time. It's the chance of a 
lifetime, Al. What do you say?"

"Damnit, Dirk," Allie said, after a long moment of looking into his 
eyes, "You always were a master salesman. BeBe's known you were going to 
do this to her someday. So have I, but I wanted her to put it off as 
long as possible. You know I'm no shrinking violet. We've done lots of 
kinky things together over the years, haven't we? Attended lots of 
catered snuff parties, female barbecues, you name it, and had a ball. 
But she's like my sister in there..."

"All the more reason to honor her wishes, wouldn't you say?" Dirk said 
with his eyes twinkling, "Besides, she asked me to make a hard run at 
courting you after she's gone. Cause she knows I've always been crazy 
about you. I plan to honor that wish as thoroughly as I can." Allie's 
face broke into a smile when she heard this, and she hugged Dirk closely.

"Ohh, Dirk, I'm sorry." Allie sighed, suddenly seeing another white 
dress in her future, "Guess I'm a little bit selfish when it comes to 
her. Are you really sure about her wanting this now? And Shara too? It 
just seems so difficult for them, and I don't want to feel guilty about 
any of this. I've got to know...."

"Of course I'm sure," Dirk said. "Positive. Ask her for yourself. No, 
you just did that. Ask her again. Or just go look at the video statement 
she made. The cameras never lie. And they all say the same thing, Al. 
It's good enough for legal invokement, open and shut, even if she 
weren¹t my wife. Shouldn't that be good enough for you?"

"Well.....OK." Allie finally conceded, smiling sheepishly. "I guess I 
should go give you a hand, then. Damn! I wanted to come and celebrate 
the evening with you two. Now look at what I've gotten myself into."

"That's the spirit, Baby!" Dirk whispered excitedly, "You're coming over 
tonight was more perfect than you'll ever know. Now, you remember what 
live-share performances demand. Complete enthusiastic participation. The 
wilder, sexier and meaner, the better. That's what spikes the ratings 
and drives your share. Now let's get back in there and knock 'em dead!"

"Yes sir!" Allie answered, winking at Dirk for the pun he fully intended.


End of part VIII
© 2000, Aiken

"High-heeled hell" Part IX
By Aiken ©2000

"Students," Miss Juniper said in a voice that meant everyone had better 
hush and listen, "I know all of you got a thrill out of the treatment 
Bridget just received in the storeroom. I have no doubt sales of that 
thirty minute vid will top the charts in the T&S market. Bobby and Rene, 
you were superb in there. I was as impressed with your pitiless 
treatment of Bridget as I was delighted with the creative ways you found 
to exploit her situation. As soon as Fred finishes with his turn at 
raping Shara's mouth, we will proceed to the next step in our enjoyment 
of Bridget and Shara's fate. In the meantime, we are nearing the end of 
Tiffany and Samantha's hanging lesson. Observe..." Miss J walked over to 
where her two slow hanging volunteers trembled and twisted in agony, 
barely touching the floor on their 7 inch tall platform heeled tiptoes.

While Bridget endured Bobby and Rene's brutality in the storeroom, Miss 
J had been busy with Tiffany and Samantha. She had lowered their 
platform again by several inches and the girls had been slowhanging all 
this time. New elements were added to their plight, though. Their ankles 
had not been retethered to each other's breast wires, but were free to 
roam about, searching in vain for a better connection to the floor. New 
double strands of barb wire had been connected to the bottom of the each 
girl's barb wire breast harness.

Mercilessly tight, these new wires bound their torsos together directly 
through their crotches. In addition to the misery their breasts, 
shoulders and backs felt from the cruel brassiere-like wire 
constructions, steel barbs now tormented them from sternum to sternum, 
violating two aching pussies as they went. Every squirm of one girl was 
felt by the other through this connection. The spears in Samantha's 
horrible ring-gag had also been deployed at some point during the 
storeroom activities, making her misery equal to that of Tiffany's. 
Strands of bloody saliva spilled from both girls tortured mouths as they 
strained against their neckropes. Salty tears dripped onto the riverlets 
of blood oozing from the wounds caused by the bonds encircling their 
breasts and cleaving their tummies.

"Isn't this perfect?," Miss Juniper said, smiling beside her volunteers, 
"As you can see, their struggles have taken on a new-found intensity. 
These poor feet are just able to touch my platform as they stretch and 
kick in these sexy high heeled shoes. But this offers our girls little 
solace. If our motorized platform were a half inch higher, it would 
allow them to take some weight off of these nooses and ease the terrible 
pressure at their necks. One inch lower and they could just give up to 
hang freely. At this exact spot there is no respite. They are in that 
special hell hangmen call their happy medium, when the victim is at peak 
distress. She will expend every ounce of energy fighting to survive, 
knowing there is a place to put her feet, but not quite able to rest 
them there. Any questions, class?"

Her classroom was packed. In addition to the twenty-four 6th period 
students in Miss Juniper's Torture and Snuff theory II class, about 
twenty more pupils had entered the room, and were standing along the 
back wall. These were the students from earlier periods Miss Juniper had 
invited back to watch Tiffany and Samantha's final ordeal after school. 
Their faces were flushed with excitement and anticipation. Some were 
clearly shocked to see the girls in such agony. But all of them were 
aroused. It was like no slow hanging demonstration any of them had ever 
witnessed. 

"Miss Juniper?" Tony, one of the returning students asked her, "Is this 
the final stage for them? Umm, what I mean is, do we need to do anything 
else at this point to finish them off?"

"Good question, Tony," Miss J. smiled, "No, we could leave them just 
like this and death would claim them, but it would take a while. Even 
with the blood loss and the shock, these two could last another three or 
four hours. You see, our ladies are drawing strength from each other 
now. There is something about being bound to another victim while being 
tortured and hung that makes girls fight harder and last longer. No one 
is really sure why, but somehow they give each other strength and 
endurance that neither would have if she suffered alone."

"But they are only supposed to survive until 5 pm, aren't they?" Shandra 
asked, "That's just 30 more minutes."
 
"That's correct," Miss J. responded, "And that brings me back to Tony's 
question. Because we need to wrap this up in about half an hour, we 
still need something else, something special for our volunteers to 
experience. Any ideas, class?"

"How about we whip them," Terri asked, "I remember reading that 
whippings were a popular way to finish off victims at public executions 
in the middle ages."

"That's a very good idea, Terri," said Miss J., "Whipping is an 
excellent way to hasten a girl's death on the gallows or the cross. But 
canes might be better in this case, because they leave such lovely 
marks. Cane beatings don't draw as much messy blood as the whip, but the 
searing pain a cane inflicts is in a class by itself. Something that 
would work very well for Tiff and Sam here is the Kilocane. Kilo 
Industrials introduced it a couple of years ago. Quite brilliant and 
often copied, it is a swishy 30 inch natural cane that leaves a wicked 
stripe. It also features a button at one end that sprouts a pinching 
tool out of the other end, similar to a mechanics grab tool, but much 
stronger. Using these pinchers, Kilocanes can be attached anywhere on 
the victim's body to dangle painfully from her like a picador's lance at 
a bullfight. At slightly over a pound each, the additional weight of 
each Kilocane adds to any hanging girl's torment, to say nothing of what 
the cane strokes themselves will do. Terri, I have about forty of these 
canes in my entry closet if you would like to get them for us."   
 
"Yes Ma'am!" Terri responded, and eagerly went to the small closet at 
the side of the room to find a wheeled tub that held the canes. She 
rolled the cane bucket over to Miss Juniper past where Fred stood 
reaming his cock into Shara's brightly painted mouth. Just as Mike, 
Cindi and Osana had done before him, taking their turns with Shara, he 
was enjoying the splendid sensation of manipulating her garrote, 
alternately denying her of breath, then feeding her his cock. Shara was 
choking and groaning in unspeakable pain, just as her mother was doing 
in the vid-link screen before her. Fred moaned and withdrew his cock 
from Shara, ready to spray his come. Miss J. silently motioned with her 
finger for Fred to pump his seed into Bridget's mouth, through the same 
ring-gag Bobby had invaded moments earlier in the storeroom, when he 
sprayed his semen and liquid waste into Bridget's tummy. Fred grinned at 
his teacher, as he urgently found the back of Bridget's throat to give 
her more of the same.

"I'll need about forty students to line up for this," The cruel teacher 
said, "Twenty for Samantha, and twenty for Tiffany. Each of you will 
take a Kilocane and give your girl three good whacks. Make them as hard 
as you like, placing them anywhere you choose. Then attach your Kilocane 
wherever you think she should feel a nice hard pinch with a one pound 
cane wagging behind it. Terri, you may go first on lovely Samantha here."

Miss J's students wasted no time clambering to the front of the room to 
take their place in line. Terri picked up the first cane and sliced it 
through the air. She watched Sam's eyes dart about and her body tense up 
as the frightful swishing noise came closer to her, the sound of 
impending doom. Once satisfied she had a feel for it, Terri took careful 
aim at Samantha's upper left thigh. With a full left arm swing Terri 
brought the cane down hard. Before Sam's shriek could subside, another 
stroke slammed into her right hip, then a devastating backhand, perhaps 
the hardest blow of all, smashed into Sam's left breast. Dark weals 
formed instantly at each spot, resembling second degree burns. Her body 
behaved as if electric currents were passing through it. Samantha was in 
unbearable pain, and so was Tiffany, whose own screams were elicited 
from the wires and nooses the two victims shared. Sam kept bucking and 
screaming as if the blows were still arriving, but they weren't. Terri 
was experimenting with the cane's button. It was digitally controlled 
and motorized. With a subtle touch on the button six steel talons began 
exiting and widening from the other end. She realized that at whatever 
instant the button was released, the talons would recede from that spot, 
drawing in whatever size pinch the operator chose, from the tiniest nip 
to its largest bite at nearly three inches wide.

"It's all according to how long you hold the button down before 
releasing it," Miss J instructed her charge sweetly, "Remember to angle 
the cane up nice and high, so that when it drops there is an extra 
twisting effect to its pinch. The button control is instantaneous. If 
you miss the size grab you want, just release it, let the pinchers 
recede, then start them over again. When the moment is just perfect you 
push it hard against your girl, release the button, drop your cane and 
watch the delicious result. It takes a bit of a touch, doesn't it?"

"Yes it does, Ma'am," said Terri, pressing the cane's pinchers into 
Samantha's left nipple and releasing its talons from mid-extrusion, "But 
I think I've got it now."

Whimpering Sam hadn't recovered yet from the blinding pain Terri's blow 
had deposited in her left breast when the Kilocane captured Sam's left 
nipple and aureole. Its shining steel claws clamped into Sam's teat and 
pulled. The cane's automatic motor squeezed it's bite with predetermined 
pressure, almost consuming the tender parcel of flesh into the end of 
the cane. Sam emitted a high-pitched squeal that dropped into a low 
agonized howl as Terri let go of the cane. The cane's weight fell 
sharply from Terri's hold perpendicular to Sam's body, but held fast to 
its prize, swinging freely from Sam's bleeding nipple as she jerked and 
writhed in uncontrollable misery.  

"Yes, I believe you do have it now," Miss Juniper said, hugging Terri's 
shoulders, "See there, darling? You've given her beautiful breast a gift 
that lasts...mmmm. And look here, she just pissed herself a little." 
Miss J. felt Terri shudder in her arms as an orgasm suddenly washed over 
the girl. Terri's knees started to buckle, but Miss J. held her firmly 
and safely until Terri's waves of pleasure subsided. It was a beautiful 
moment between teacher and student.

"Thank you, Ma'am," Terri said, a minute later, giving her teacher a 
warm hug and a light kiss on the lips, "I think I'll go sit down now and 
watch the others." Smiling to her classmembers somewhat apologetically, 
Terri moved back to her desk on shaky legs.

"Ok, students," Miss Juniper said, "Move quickly now. Three stripes from 
each of you. Then pick out your pinch spot and release the cane. By the 
way, there is a dial control near the bottom of your cane that regulates 
its grabbing power. Be sure it is set to level 4 only. At 5 or 6 the 
pinchers can slice right thru the flesh, spoiling our purpose today."

Her students moved rapidly through their turns, filling the air with the 
remorseless whistles and cracks of vicious cane blows, and the 
heartbreaking screams of their two victims. During the next 20 minutes 
nearly all of Miss Juniper's Kilocanes were used, carving angry weals 
into two heaving, sweaty bodies. Dozens of stripes defiled each of the 
girls from their shoulders to their shins. Nearly obscuring those marks 
however were the canes that produced them. Thirty eight of them clung to 
the poor girls, clattering about when each new blow descended, and as 
Tiffany and Samantha feebly tried to shake them loose. The last two 
students, Jerry and Stephanie, had taken their three hardest swings, and 
prepared to engage the pinchers, but were having trouble finding any 
fresh spots. The girls' nipples and breasts had felt the bite of the 
canes early on, then their pubic regions, ears and underarms. Tiff and 
Sam were just barely moving now. Almost all of their kick was gone. Each 
of them was bearing an extra twenty five pounds of Kilocane. Little by 
little, this weight had taken a toll at their nooses, diminishing their 
deadly dance. Their throats were almost entirely closed now, and could 
barely produce a sound. Their chests convulsed, looking for tiny scraps 
of air and finding none. Deprived of oxygen and blood their faces had 
turned dark red, bordering on black.

"Why not go for their tongues?" Miss J. asked them, "They are so close 
now, one more tug against the ropes might finish them off." Jerry and 
Stef smiled at each other and nodded. Raising their canes high in the 
air, the students poked talons expanded to the widest aperture into 
their victims' mouths. They released their buttons and dropped the canes 
simultaneously. Following the pull of the canes, two faces tipped 
forward until their chins rested against their chests. Their legs went 
limp. Their mouths fell silent. No sound or movement was evident but for 
the tapping of urine hitting the floor as Tiff and Sam voided the 
remaining contents of their bladders. 

"End of the road..." Miss Juniper said gently to her students, "Say 
goodbye to our sweet volunteers Tiffany and Samantha, and may they sleep 
well." The classroom burst into applause as Miss J's students registered 
appreciation for the show they had witnessed, and the history that was 
made.

"Two minutes til 5 o¹clock, Miss J!" Shandra called out, "Bravo! That's 
almost perfect!"

"Thank you, students," the teacher smiled, "Thank you, but the credit 
all goes to our lovely ladies here, who gave us all they had to give. 
Without their tremendous effort and delightful consent, none of this 
could have been possible." The applause grew louder as classmates gave 
their departed friends a hearty hand, accompanied by whistles and shouts.

"Our demonstration is finished for today, class," Miss J announced as 
the racket subsided. "Several of you who need to get dressed should do 
so quickly so our custodians can clean the room and lock up the school. 
Thank goodness it's Friday; we can all get a little bit of rest. Oh, I 
almost forgot, we need to vote on Shara's fate. How many of you think 
Shara performed sexily enough for us today, and should be given a 
temporary reprieve?"

Most of the students' hands went up, including everyone who had a turn 
at abusing her.

"That looks pretty positive, Shara." Miss J said to the exhausted girl 
in the mobile torture platform. "And I agree with them. You did a 
wonderful job today. Unfortunately our time ran out before you could 
suck off all of your classmates. But you'll get a chance to service the 
rest of them soon, since they voted to let you live a while longer." The 
teacher took the key on her necklace and turned it inside the lock above 
the handle that imprisoned Shara's breasts inside the MTP-5000. 
Automatic clicking sounds could be heard beneath the aluminum panels of 
the breast module, as spring tensioners coiled around Shara's boobs were 
instantly released. Shara winced as feeling returned to her tender 
globes.

"There's nothing like having nipple clamps removed, is there dear?" Miss 
J. cood, "They hurt so much worse when they come off and the blood 
returns to them." After unclipping the tight jaws from Shara's nipples, 
she lifted the girl's bruised breasts and carefully pushed them back 
through the holes in the module. They were badly swollen, and it took 
some coaxing before they were freed.

"Ohhhh, thank you ma'am," Shara groaned, "God, they hurt something 
awful, but I'm so glad you're freeing them. Thank you so much for 
releasing my titties."      

Four men dressed in blue scrubs wheeled two mop buckets and two steel 
gurneys into the room and prepared to cut the girls down. "Gentlemen," 
said Miss J looking up from her crouch next to Shara's platform, "Those 
two cadavers need to be taken to our chilled body lockers down at the 
science lab. Be sure you clean and disinfect the entire platform area, 
and all my canes and ring gags as you remove them and store them in my 
closet. When you are done tidying up you may satisfy yourselves with 
Bridget here. All of her rape points are permissible. When you are 
finished enjoying Bridget I want you to wheel her, in living condition 
please, over to the Journalism department. They'll be staying late 
tonight working on the yearbook. Students there will be doing some photo 
essays of her and our fascinating new equipment, as well as indulging 
themselves in some late night entertainment. Be careful not to release 
the spears on her gag or breast connect... our photo students will want 
to make careful studies of those events. And be sure to take one of 
these satin coverlets with you so she won't get chilled."

"Yes Ma'am," two of the men responded, grinning at the thought of having 
some fun with Bridget. Working for this bitch definitely had it's good 
points.

"That would have been your fate as well, my dear," Miss Juniper 
whispered to Shara, "If you had not won us over with your sexy 
performance." With the teacher's gentle assistance, Shara managed to 
rise to her feet, her legs quivering with exhaustion. 

"Hand me a robe, please," Miss J. asked a nearby student, "We need to 
warm this girl up, she's shaking like a leaf." With the thick terrycloth 
robe wrapped around her student, Miss J. wound her arms around the girl 
and squeezed her tightly, rubbing warmth into her shoulders. Shara burst 
into tears as she hugged her teacher. Her loud sobs continued while her 
teacher held her close. "My goodness, darling, you'll be alright," the 
teacher whispered, "It's over for now... and you were beautiful. You've 
earned your extra time, dear.  Now come with me and get some rest."

"W...with you...?" the student asked, blinking away her tears of relief. 

"Certainly with me," Miss Juniper assured her, "You're in my custody 
now. Until I reactivate the terms of your invokement you will stay in my 
home, and follow my directions. I'll have you cleaned up and rested in 
no time. Then I plan to train you, and teach you lots of new things. 
We'll have so much fun!"

Suddenly Shara understood. Her life as she had ever known it was indeed 
over. Her lusty performance on the MTP-5000 had done the trick and 
bought her some more time, how much she couldn't be sure. But it was 
borrowed time only, strictly at the disposal of Miss Juniper.

"Yes... yes of course," Shara said closing her eyes and resting her head 
on Miss J.'s shoulder, "Thank you so much Ma'am. I'm feeling much better 
now. I'll need to get my things, though. May I go home first?"

"Everything I need for you is at my home already," her teacher said, 
stroking Shara's smooth blond hair and slowly walking her into the 
hallway. "I have all the lingerie and powders and creams you could ever 
imagine. There's a hot tub and a huge warm featherbed waiting for you, 
along with some very clever toys. And, dear, you won't believe my shoe 
collection."


End of part IX
© 2000, Aiken

"High-heeled hell" Part X
By Aiken ©2000

Dirk and Allie and were taking a break from torturing Dirk's lovely wife 
Linda. They had prepared a snack of tuna sandwiches and tomato soup. 
"Got to keep our strength up, boys," Dirk said, as he passed a platter 
of sandwiches and a pitcher of milk to the CTC video technicians hard at 
work in his living room. The 3 techs had been filming the outrageous 
events taking place in Dirk's spacious living room for the previous 
three hours, and uplinking them worldwide via the Classroom Torture 
Channel. Dirk and Linda's lifelong friend Allie were honoring Linda's 
invokement request, and garnering a fortune in broadcast royalties while 
they abused the poor woman.

Dirk had spent most of the last half hour cock-choking his beautiful 
35-year old brunette spouse and spraying her mouth with hot come as she 
knelt in the pitiless confines of the MTP-5000, a wheeled torture 
platform that imprisoned her breasts with tight steel bands. Meanwhile, 
Allie had been strangling her dear friend by gently twisting a rope 
garotte into Linda's smooth throat with her left hand, while she 
patiently whipped Linda's ass with her right. Linda's bound hands 
squirmed behind her back as her body quivered in pain. She was powerless 
to stop her abusers. Allie used a thin fiberglass whipping rod she and 
her two friends had always been fond of. Barely an eighth of an inch 
thick, the lightest strokes with this slender tool were amazingly 
effective. Allie knew it was best to ply the rod with light to medium 
force at about one tap per second. Using her wrist instead of her arm 
was the key, so a whipping could last almost indefinitely without tiring 
the arm. Each swish left an identifiable red stripe while the resulting 
pain and swelling from each blow mounted imperceptibly upon the last. 
The agony this steady process generates is beyond anyone's ability to 
cope. For centuries the technique had been popular for interrogations. A 
man's testicles subjected to hours of light flicks from a stiff twig 
would swell to grotesque proportions, as would a woman's breasts. A 
victim would confess to anything to end the torment. By the time Dirk 
had climaxed and Linda had blacked out again from Allie's breath-play, 
Linda's ass cheeks bore hundreds of narrow red welts, some of which 
oozed blood.

During their breather Dirk and Allie had kept their eyes glued to the 
vidlink monitor tuned to Miss Juniper's classroom, in CTC's special dual 
broadcast. They had just witnessed Tiffany and Samantha's grand finale 
at the hands of the girls' cruel teacher and classmates. Those 
once-consensual snuff victims had endured over 6 hours of the worst 
tortures imaginable. In dying they were released from Miss Juniper's 
capricious domain of hellish pain to enter the world's pantheon of T&S 
celebrity greats. "God that was spectacular!" Dirk said to Allie, "Could 
you believe that? Hall of fame stuff for sure...."

"It was unbelievable...," Allie said. "Unbelievably... hot." It was kind 
of embarrassing for Allie to admit she had enjoyed watching Miss 
Juniper's class finish off their two beautiful volunteers. "Their 
parents must be very proud. But, Dirk, I've never seen two girls go 
through so much unnecessary anguish. I mean, there they were, totally 
sweet, consensual gallows girls, looking forward to their orgasms on the 
slow noose. And look what their classmates were allowed to put them 
through... Are you sure that what Miss Juniper is doing over there is 
completely legal?"

"Of course it is, Al," Dirk countered before taking another huge bite of 
his sandwich, "Do you think she would have a worldwide live-feed of this 
thing going if it wasn't?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Allie said, munching thoughtfully, "I just 
never thought classroom snuff lessons were allowed to involve so much 
torture..." 

"Yeah, most schools avoid it, but not because they have to," Dirk 
responded, "A few states prohibit creativity days like she has, so 
schools in other places wimp out to avoid the controversy. They 
micromanage everything. Slow hanging can't last longer than 30 minutes. 
No rapes or whippings can take place unless they are performed 
consensually before the hanging lessons begin. Lots of silly bullshit 
rules like that. Kind of stupid if you ask me..."

"I have to admit it was very exciting to watch.." Allie added, "It's the 
unpredictability factor isn't it? It's that you don't know exactly how 
it will play out, and neither do her poor girls...makes the absolute 
helplessness of their situation so intriguing."

"I agree with you," said Dirk putting his plate down and wiping his 
mouth, "Not to mention more realistic. Professional hangmen don't 
observe any fucking rules unless they make them up themselves. So why 
water it down in the schools? Students should know exactly what's 
happening to women out there."

"I guess that's right." Allie agreed, smiling, "The ratings certainly 
seem to think so too. Say, Dirk, isn't it great that Shara won her 
little deal with Miss J.? She'll get to live for a while longer now. 
Shara sort of belongs to her teacher at this point, doesn't she? Wonder 
what that will mean for your little girl...."

"Say Al, I'd love to feel your lips around my cock right about now," 
Dirk said, grinning broadly and changing the subject, "Would that be OK 
with you?"

"I thought you'd never ask, lover...." Allie winked.

"But..." Dirk added, "Could you, uhhm... you know, fix your lips first?"

"Sure! I'll put it on really heavy just for you, baby," Allie said, 
opening up her purse, "I know how much you love getting your cock sucked 
when a woman has fresh lipstick on..." 

"Yeah..."  Dirk said, his voice growing heavy with lust, "Bet It won't 
stay too fresh with me around though..."

"Sure it will, dear," Allie chirped, withdrawing a lipstick from her 
purse. "If I keep putting it right back on for you...." This product was 
one of Allie's favorites, from Stickylip Cosmetics. It was called a 
Double Shot Duo, and featured two separate colors drawn from two 
lipstick barrels joined side by side. The popular products combined a 
light and dark variety of a similar color. Or, for a wilder look, 
complimentary colors were teamed up, creating stark contrasts and 
drawing remarkable attention to a girl's lips. Unusual duets like pinks 
and blues, or oranges and greens were top sellers.  "Treat your lips to 
a double dose of glossy excitement," the video ads urged, "with Double 
Shot Duos."  Interlacing the sound track with shotgun blasts and the 
sighs of enraptured lovers, their ads went on to show a variety of duo 
applications on actresses' lips. One cute blond was shown sitting at her 
office, opening a lipstick called Double Shot Fire and Ice. Dipping into 
one barrel with it's short wand and flat brush, she applied a blazing 
red lipstick to her lips and winked at a young male associate. "Velvety 
smooth Double Shot Lipsticks set in seconds to a lustrous finish that 
lasts hours and hours. Go from your sexy daytime simmer," the announcer 
suggested, "To an explosive nighttime look no man can resist..." The 
same girl was shown pausing at a dance club entrance to add another 
color to her lips from the second barrel. This color covered the red 
shade beneath it with a perfect layer of incandescent blue. It sparkled 
like sapphires on her upper lip, while the shimmering red still adorned 
her lower lip. The girl smiled coquettishly into the camera before 
turning to join her admiring friends in the club. 

"Create your own fascinating style.... and watch the excitement grow!" 
the announcer crooned as dozens of duo combinations flashed across the 
screen. Some lips wore subtle accents, with colors switching at the 
cupid's bow. Others bore startling designs, fusing every two colors 
imaginable. Some of the examples showed girls' lips outlined in a 
neutral color, such as white or black, further articulating their 
dramatic appeal.

"Stickylip's unique blend of richly pigmented, opaque latex polymers, 
and nourishing lip moisturizers give your lips dependable coverage all 
day long... and all night too... but be careful. We can't be responsible 
for the pleasure Double Shot Duos can lead you to!" The advertisement 
concluded with a close up of the blond woman's erotically painted face, 
her lips still impeccably coated with Fire and Ice. But her eyes were 
wild; her mouth agape, quivering silently with a mixture of arousal and 
pain. The camera pulled back slowly to reveal her throat caught in a 
pillow-loop. A popular accessory on beds these days, a pillow-loop was a 
sturdy snare of white rope leading through special slots in the mattress 
to a motorized winch under the bed. Using his remote control, a man 
could precisely tuck in his girl for a deliciously long night of 
strangling torment, intensified by the slightest bed movements. Her arms 
appeared to be bound behind her in some way. Her male lover was shown 
atop her, slowly pumping his cock into her ass as she agonized and 
orgasmed helplessly on her noose. "Let your imaginations run wild," a 
woman's voice whispered seductively as the picture slowly faded to 
black, "With Double Shot Duos, exclusively from Stickylip. At Dolco 
stores everywhere...."

"Yeah....baby, that's it!" Dirk said dreamily, watching Allie stroke the 
sticky solution onto her full lips. She stood very close to him as she 
performed this ritual. The color was one of Allie's favorites, called 
Double Shot Sunfire Glaze. A blazing red, bordering on orange, it packed 
enough heat and shine to illuminate a room. The second color in Allie's 
Duo was a pearlescent green that she loved using as a contrasting outer 
lip liner. Each Duo applicator wand had a reversible tip that snapped in 
and out of its slim retaining straw, allowing a woman to select either 
the 3/16 inch flat brush, or a very narrow detail brush when decorating 
her lips. She used the pointed end of the smaller brush to apply a 
stripe of Green Lantern Glaze all around her mouth, just outside the 
vermillion. The color change was dazzling to the eye, and also enlarged 
the appearance of her lips. Peering into the small rectangular mirror 
that folded up from the bottom of the two tubes, Allie pressed her lips 
together and pouted a few times. She was very satisfied with her look. 
It was a combination Allie personally found to be very daring and 
delicious, and most effective for driving the onlooker's libido. Allie 
loved to see boys' heads turn whenever she wore it. She could imagine 
every cock growing instantly stiff as she walked past. The girls would 
always stare at her lips too, trying not to be too obvious, and glancing 
away before Allie could return their gaze. 

Her preparations now complete, Allie kneeled in front of the sofa where 
Dirk seated himself, and spread Dirk's bathrobe open. She blew on his 
stiff penis, teasing it for a moment. "Already hard for me, baby?" she 
asked coyly, watching his erection quiver under her warm breath. "Right 
on cue for your blowjob, aren't you...?" She rested her smooth lips 
against the end of his cock very lightly, without pursing them or making 
a smooching sound. Allie repeated this gesture, planting silent, 
frustratingly soft kisses down the sides of Dirk's penis, then up the 
bottom of it and all around his oozing knob. She could hear Dirk 
groaning, desperately wanting more. These weren't real kisses. He'd not 
felt her tongue yet, only the buttery soft touches of her lips. Flicking 
her tongue out to capture a drop of Dirk's precome, she felt his hips 
rotate forward, needing more pressure, more warmth. He had to be inside 
that mouth now, where her luscious tongue resided. Allie loved this 
moment so much, when she had a mans cock bursting with need. It must be 
painful to him, she thought, to want inside a woman's body so badly. 
With so much energy...

With that thought she suddenly engulfed his organ with her mouth, 
swirling her tongue lovingly under him and pressing his knob deep into 
the back of her throat.

"Ah...hhhhhhaaa," Dirk gasped in surprise, his cock's desire suddenly 
granted. He trembled with the unannounced ecstacy of entering Allie's 
throat. A moment later Allie withdrew very slowly, sucking him hard as 
she went, until just his cockhead remained clasped by her gleaming lips. 
Looking up into his eyes, she was rewarded with his expression of total 
pleasure. Cloud nine, she thought, right where I want him to be. Allie 
smirked, as much as a lady can when her painted lips are stretched 
around a man's meat pole. She descended his cock once again, very slowly 
taking him in and out. Back up to the eyes; same look, same happy smile. 
Allie initiated her rhythm now, slowly and steadily. Up and down she 
went swallowing his penis, lovingly fellating this powerful man and 
giving him the sweetest blowjob imaginable.

"Guess Miss J has something real interesting planned for Shara back at 
her house, huh?" Dirk mused while Allie's adoring mouth serviced him.  
"Winning herself some extra life might turn into a good deal for Shara. 
But... then again, maybe it won't be so good for her... "

"My money's...," Allie replied, between mouthfuls of Dirks hot penis, 
"On not... Miss Juniper is just too wicked, Dirk...... She's bound to do 
some awful things..... when she gets your little girl home."

"Yeah, I guess so," Dirk answered, "Hey you suck cock real good, lady."

"Mmmm....hmm..." Allie hummed, transmitting her answer through his groin.

 "You're one hell of a cock-sucker, you know that?" Dirk asked, with a 
familiar grin forming on his face, "You're a dirty cock-sucking 
whore.... Does your mamma know you suck cock like that?"

"Mmmmmm...." Allie hummed inconclusively. Her pussy was on fire as she 
continued to suck him. Her body always reacted instantly to this kind of 
talk. Like a hard slap on her ass, it created an intense rush of sexual 
pleasure and need. She never understood it, but she didn't have to. Her 
body loved his degrading words even if her mind hated them.

"You painted lady..." Dirk continued, his teeth clenched in erotic 
delirium, "Eat me, you bitch ...filthy cunt...You're just a nasty 
cock-swallowing whore, aren't you?..... Does your mamma know you suck 
dick this good? Does your mamma know about that?"

"Mamma taught me..." Allie whispered back to him, pausing for an instant 
to smile wickedly up at him, concluding the nasty conversation they had 
enjoyed so many times before. Allie slid her red-orange lips down to the 
base of Dirk's penis, wedging his meaty cock back into her throat. Dirk 
groaned with supreme pleasure. She remained there, holding very still, 
knowing what would happen next. As expected, Dirks cock twitched and 
throbbed and jetted a full load of his warm sperm down her throat. Allie 
shivered with pleasure as she rubbed and pinched her breasts thru her 
dress, bringing herself off too.

While they rested for a moment enjoying the residue of their orgasms, 
Dirk glanced over to his wife. Slumped over the breast restraining panel 
of her steel prison, Linda was whimpering softly, slowly coming around 
from asphyxia-induced sleep. Dirk looked at the two roving camera 
technicians, who had captured the entire blowjob for CTC's viewers. 
Large smiles could be seen beneath the stare of the men's dark camera 
lenses. The third technician at the control board flashed a thumb's up 
signal to Dirk, and held up two fingers. Dirk basked in the knowledge 
that their live-share rating had gone up another two points. "That's 
another million for me," he thought, "and another million for Allie...."

"Ok, Boys. It's your turn to have a go at Linda there." Dirk said, We'll 
be back in a little while to fit the RG-61 into her mouth and have some 
more fun. Allie I want you to come with me for a few minutes. There's 
something very special I want you to see."

"Ok, sugar," Allie said cheerfully, rising awkwardly to her feet in her 
form-fitting green vinyl dress and matching high-heeled pumps. Taking 
her tall beau by the hand she followed him out into the hallway. The 
eager technicians behind them mounted their cameras onto robotic tripods 
that would capture the action faithfully while they took their turns 
abusing Linda.

Out in the hallway, Dirk grinned at Allie and pointed to the square 
steel devices attached to each of the walls, no bigger than a hotel bar 
of soap. These boxes held small red lights at their tops and small round 
lenses in front.

"My entire house is staged for wireless video and audio processing," he 
chuckled, "That guy at the control panel in there is routing everything 
up to the satellite. Using split screen edits, viewers can watch 
anything they like that happens in here. Pretty wild, huh?" Dirk opened 
a door that led into a small room he used as a study. Entering the room 
he switched on a video screen, then got Allie comfortably seated in a 
straight-backed velour chair.

"This is something I never knew about until today," Dirk said to her, 
kissing her tenderly on the lips. He looked deeply into her eyes, as if 
he were searching for something. Suddenly his face broke into a happy 
smile, "I want you to relax now and watch... this is so exciting, isn't 
it, baby?"

"Yes. Of course it is...." Allie said, breathlessly, "Go ahead, dear, 
let me see it." She was very excited. She felt like a bridesmaid again, 
but she couldn't quite understand.. Why this growing sense of dread?

The screen on the wall came to life as Dirk hit the play button on his 
controller. The image of Linda's beautifully made-up face appeared, 
almost filling the two foot wide by 18 inch tall laser-illuminated video 
panel. She held a look of excitement and concern in her large brown eyes.

"Umm, Hi, Allie," Linda said, smiling shyly, "I'm not sure when Dirk 
will be showing this vid to you, but I have to hurry. He just had some 
weird equipment delivered from Shara's classroom, and some guys are 
coming in from the classroom torture network. They'll be here any minute 
to broadcast Dirk raping me on that equipment. Shara volunteered for a 
snuff assignment at school today. Then Dirk got worked up to give it to 
me the same as Shara. So...here I am wearing the same high heels and 
lipstick Miss J puts on her volunteers. My hands are tied behind my 
back, too.  

"So, uhhhm, anyway," Linda continued, smirking and twisting her 
shoulders in mock struggle, "Guess I'm as invoked as a girl can be now. 
But there's something else I wanted to tell you, honey. Besides that I 
love you of course... Its about the letter, baby. Remember our 
friendship letter? We haven't talked about it in years, have we? I know 
we agreed to tear them up, but I could never bring myself to destroy my 
copy. Don't know why keeping it all this time felt so special and 
intimate. But it did. I gave it to Dirk today, so he controls it now. I 
hope you're not mad at me... or afraid. He's been a wonderful husband to 
me, Allie, I've enjoyed every minute of my time with him. And I know you 
will too, baby. Don't be sad for me, OK? And I won't be too jealous of 
you... Bye bye!"

The screen went dark as Linda's short message ended. Allie couldn't 
believe her ears. Their friendship letter! Allie's thoughts turned back, 
remembering the time when she and Linda had signed each other's letters. 
It was so many years ago. They came out of cereal boxes in those days, 
two identical documents with special instructions, a pen, and a cheap 
thumbprinting kit. Girlfriends were encouraged to sign them and keep 
them as lifelong agreements of devoted friendship. Cereal-box friendship 
letters were a craze that lasted for many years, and were especially 
popular among teenagers from the first generation following the 
Volunteer Snuff Act. Advertisements showed girls filling them out 
happily, with each girl locking up her letter in some secret place. Any 
girl could share a letter with as many friends as she liked. What the 
letters really meant was that if either one of them got snuffed through 
legal voluntary invokement, the other one would automatically go too. In 
for a penny, in for a pound. Producing a friendship letter even 
posthumously would invoke the other party, or parties, without appeal.

Basically a PR campaign to minimize remaining public resistance to the 
voluntary snuff laws of 2116, and 2124, signing friendship letters was 
depicted as lots of fun, and a thoughtful way for two women to show pure 
love and support for one other. But there was a much darker side to the 
loyal bravery and commitment friendship letters conveyed. Either letter 
could be cashed in like a property deed. If a girl gave, or sold her 
friendship letter to another person prior to, or during, her invokement, 
the recipient could claim and snuff her corresponding friend, or 
friends, immediately upon invokement, or at any subsequent time. 
Unawarded letters became the property of the state, as well as any 
unfortunate friends the letters designated.

Letter holders rights had been contested in court many times over the 
years by signatories trying to get off the hook and break their 
agreement. However, provided it was one of two genuinely signed 
originals, laws always upheld the power of a friendship letter. The only 
way to break a letter's authority was for both originals to be destroyed 
before either woman was invoked. Allie and Linda had agreed back in 
their early-twenties to destroy the two letters they had signed in their 
teens. Or at least Allie thought they had. Allie shredded hers in front 
of her friend, and Linda shredded a document too, but Allie realized it 
must have been a fake, slyly substituted for the real thing.

Allie's face flushed with a torrent of conflicting thoughts and 
emotions. How could her friend do this to her? Trick her like this? She 
felt shock, betrayal, grief and fear, and all of it suffused by the 
damnable erotic fervor she bathed in whenever she visited Dirk and 
Linda's home. It wasn't fair. She had been suckerpunched. But the worst 
part was that her pussy still boiled with desire. She was so turned on 
now she couldn't stand it. That woman in the living room whose breasts 
had been mauled by Miss Juniper's sadistic toys, and her ass cheeks 
decimated by Allies whip strokes, that dear friend who had been raped 
and strangled for hours, who even now was being sexually assaulted by 
two tireless CTC cameramen....and would most likely be snuffed before 
the night was through...that woman could be Allie a few days, hours, or 
even minutes from now.

Allie's fate rested solely on the whims of her letter holder now, and 
there was nothing she could do about it. Tears of humiliation rolled 
down her soft cheeks as she looked up at Dirk, who stood smiling proudly 
beside Allie's chair.

"I never knew that you and Linda did a letter, baby," Dirk said, wiping 
away a large tear that had collected at Allie's chin. "I am so amazed at 
you two. What a sexy thing to do...."

"Sure, for you maybe..." Allie said, her voice laden with emotion and 
sarcasm, "It was kind of a secret, you know? It was just between BeBe 
and me, and it was a very long time ago. We agreed to do away with them 
later. But...I guess she fooled me and held on to her half. Damn! I 
never imagined it would come back to bite me on the ass...what a stupid 
thing to do."

"Well, I'm certainly glad you did it," Dirk smiled, "Ecstatic, even! But 
if you've got any regrets now, Al, why did you do it in the first 
place?" 

"All the girls were signing them then," Allie reflected, "We thought it 
was real sexy and grown up at the time, one of those exclusively naughty 
things that girls were counselled not to do, but still couldn't wait to 
do the minute they came of age. We were so excited at the time; I recall 
we had tremendous sex with each other right after. Well, it sure as hell 
doesn't feel sexy right now...."

"Are you sure about that...?" Dirk asked, maneuvering his lips very 
close to Allie's generously painted mouth, "The sensor here in your 
chair thinks differently. It shows you near the top of the scale for 
pelvic heat and electricity..."

"Ohhh...." Allie groaned in defeat, realizing her chair was equipped 
with sensors that measured her sexual arousal with digital readouts on 
the side. Her own body had betrayed her again. "Ummm... most of that is 
probably fear anyway, Dirk...I'm pretty much scared to death here."

"That's Ok, baby," he said getting ready to kiss her, "Fear can be sexy, 
too..." He placed his lips over hers and slowly probed her mouth with 
his tongue. This was the first time he had fondled Allie since welcoming 
her into his home. Allie responded, pressing her creamy lips into his 
mouth and working her tongue in lazy circular motions around his tongue. 
Allie felt another shiver race up her spine as he reached down to touch 
her breasts through her dress. Her hardened nipples ached with 
excitement as Dirk continued to kiss her and gently squeeze her full 
breasts through the shiny fabric. She was completely in Dirk's hands 
now; her destiny linked to his will, just as certainly as it had once 
been to Stanley's.

But Allie couldn't help but be aroused. She had secretly loved this man 
for a very long time, and had always felt connected to him. But that 
connection had just been propelled to its ultimate terms, and with it, 
her emotional bond. From this moment forward making Dirk happy was the 
only thing that could possibly matter to Allie. Brushing aside the 
whispers of fear and shame that sway the mind of every woman upon her 
invokement, Allie yielded to his touch. She could feel Dirk's desire 
surging into her with his tender kiss, filling his lovely possession 
with newfound ecstacy and contentment. She arched her back and pressed 
herself further into his kiss. 

A series of soft beeps could be heard from the back of Allies chair. It 
was programmed to sound a gentle alarm when its occupant was ready to 
climax.

"That will be quite enough of that, young lady," Dirk said, suddenly 
breaking off their kiss to reset the control on the chair and silence 
the beeps, "We'll have plenty of time for that later. We should get back 
to our party now, dear. There's much more fun to be had..."

Allie shuddered with a mixture of excitement and frustration. "Yeah, I 
guess you're right," she said, "Damn chair... I was so close to another 
orgasm!" She accepted Dirk's hand as she stood up, and he clasped her 
into his arms. Allie hugged him for a surprisingly long time, savoring 
the strength of his powerful embrace. She thought about the fun he had 
been referring to, and realized that when they returned to his living 
room, things could go much differently for her now. Her status had 
irrevocably changed from a happy, well-paid co-moderator to a somewhat 
remorseful friendship letter designate. As her pre-nuptial advisor had 
told her long ago before marrying Stanley, Allie would do well to expect 
the worst from here on.


End of part X
© 2000, Aiken

"High-heeled hell" Part XI
© Aiken 2001

Miss Dana Juniper opened the door of her apartment and stepped inside 
with young Shara Simmonds in tow. She flipped on her entry hall light, 
set her purse down on the buffet and locked the door securely behind her.

"My humble abode, dear," she said cheerfully, pulling her student gently 
by the arm. Shara tiptoed along clumsily. Balancing on her tall shoes 
was a difficult proposition for the girl as her wrists were still tied 
behind her back under the thick terrycloth robe. With an anxious 
expression Shara glanced around the meticulously neat apartment. She had 
managed to stop crying and collect her wits somewhat during their 20 
minute drive from school, but she was still in a state of shock. This 
day had been a violent whirlwind of events for Shara, from watching an 
exciting slow-hang snuff being imposed on two of her schoolmates, 
Tiffany and Samantha, to being caught up in that fatal demonstration 
herself.

It was just after lunch, and two and a half hours into Tiff and Sam's 
agony when Miss J. made her move. She surprized Shara by asking her if 
she wanted to help, tempting the girl with a chance to wear some sexy 
high heels while she assisted her teacher. Overcome with the eroticism 
of the moment and of the footwear, Shara eagerly agreed, and signed 
something called a quick release, then disrobed to put on the high 
platformed heels that were identical to the shoes the two hanging 
victims wore. Before Shara could voice any objection, though, Miss 
Juniper tied the stunned girl's hands behind her back. Soon afterward 
Shara discovered that these seemingly innocent actions constituted her 
legal invokement, the turning point where a woman officially gives up 
her right to life, to receive instead a slow and agonizing death, often 
accompanied by rape and torture, and always observed by millions of 
aroused viewers. Shara pleaded for release, but it was too late.

Under the cruel guidance of her teacher, Shara was subjected to several 
hours of mouth rape and agonizing garotte strangulation by her fellow 
students while the girl kneeled, helplessly restrained by the MTP-5000, 
a wheeled platform that anchored her into place by clenching her boobs 
with steel bands. Another curious student, Bridget, was lured by similar 
tactics, and soon found herself trapped upon a torture platform as well. 
While Tiffany and Samantha's brutal slow-hanging torture continued, 
Shara and Bridget completed Miss J's surreal snuff-circus, and 
electrified a record-high Classroom Torture Channel viewership. At the 
end of their school day, when Tiffany and Samantha's ordeal was 
finished, It was decided by a vote of Shara's classmates that she had 
given an exciting enough performance for her death to be postponed till 
another day, with all details and timing to be determined solely by Miss 
Juniper. Bridget, however, got no such reprieve. Her fate was left to 
the devices of four horny custodial workers and the whims of the late 
night journalism department. Meanwhile Miss J released Shara from the 
platform and took the trembling waif home with her.

As everyone in this day and age knew, a woman's Invokement was an 
irreversible act, but few young women realized they could be invoked as 
casually and serendipitously as Shara and Bridget were. That was exactly 
why Miss Juniper liked tricking her girls sometimes, to better prepare 
both student and viewer for the subtleties of real world snuff. People 
often saw invokement as a highly formal matter, requiring weeks of 
counseling, meditation, paperwork and preparation. But just as people 
often plan big church weddings rather than elopements, a long drawn out 
candidacy was merely one possible choice. The friendly, spur of the 
moment approach Miss Juniper chose for Shara illustrated how 
capriciously a girl could be consigned to her hangman. Yet it was still 
entirely legal and binding. A girl was expected to read and understand 
any contract she signed, especially if someone attempted to tie her up 
afterward. Particularly someone as treacherously smooth and cunning as 
Miss Juniper.

Miss Juniper always loved the moment of truth for her poor snufftoys. 
Once their hands were tied and they realized what was happening, the 
girls were long past the point of no return. It was so dramatic! They 
knew their pleas and protestations would fall on unsympathetic ears, but 
they offered them anyway with absolute predictability. Miss J thought 
that was so adorable. She frequently took time to make up the girls' 
eyes and lips while they cried and begged. She loved being very close to 
their faces as they struggled with their emotions. With tenderness that 
belied the violent and painful struggles to come, the teacher would 
paint their faces, allowing the subtle perfume of cosmetics to mingle 
with the scent of Miss Juniper's arousal, and her victim's fear. Miss 
J's soothing voice and gentle brush strokes somehow reassured the girls. 
There was a calming effect when she matter of factly applied fresh 
lipstick and gloss, underscoring the fact that they were truly in for it 
now. Regardless of the circumstances they were part of the show, and 
were required to look beautiful and sexy in their last performance.  

"Are you ok now, honey?" Miss J asked her charge, "I was a little 
worried about you there when I released your breasts and you got the 
shakes. I've seen volunteers get chilled and shocky like that before. 
They can sometimes die on you in an instant."

"Yes, Ma'am," Shara replied in a soft voice, shifting her sore feet on 
the thick blue carpet beneath her, "Thank you for bringing me here. I'm 
warmer now, feeling much better, but my breasts hurt an awful lot, and 
so does my throat. And...umm... I need to use the restroom too, if 
that's OK?"

"That's understandable, dear," said Miss J sweetly, while taking the 
terry robe from the girl's shoulders and putting it in a middle drawer 
of the buffet. "I'll take you to the bathroom in a few moments. You were 
given quite a workout today, so you're bound to be sore. But I wouldn't 
be too grateful just yet. Your execution has only been suspended. It 
must still be carried out when your time comes. In the meantime...well, 
let's just say you won't be too bored here. Turn around and face the 
wall, please. It's time to get you ready for your stay. I require all my 
young lady tenants to wear special garments in my home." Miss J took a 
single sleeved rubber armbinder from a drawer and pulled it over Shara's 
bound wrists and up her arms.

"You mean... you have other girls here too?" Shara asked with a quiver 
in her voice.

"Oh, yes," her teacher answered, "I often board young ladies like you 
whose invokements are on suspension. They sort of keep me in T&S 
practice. I am licensed to lodge as many as three here at any one time. 
Whenever I bring in a fourth girl, I have 48 hours to finalize one of 
the others. Usually I choose the one who's been here the longest. That 
would be Amber. She's been with me for a little over a year. I picked 
her out at a wives' lottery auction a few days after her 23rd birthday." 

Shara's mouth opened in astonishment, "How awful. My simply being here 
means that another girl has to die?"

"Afraid so," Miss J answered, tugging a pair of straps at the top of the 
armbinder around Shara's shoulders and buckling them firmly just above 
her two swollen breasts, "Don't trouble yourself about it, though. She 
understands the rules I live by. Like you, her death was already 
recorded the day she arrived. She's been on borrowed time for an 
enjoyable and profitable extra year, and should be grateful in any case. 
Turn back around now."

"Where are they now, Ma'am?" Shara asked, turning awkwardly in the 
uncomfortable embrace of her armbinder. She noticed the apartment seemed 
entirely silent and unoccupied.

"Tucked away in their lockers, of course," Miss J said cheerily. When 
I'm at school I keep them under full restraint. If they've been good I 
allow them to view my classroom activities on a vid screen. If not, 
well, you'll find out soon enough. Right now we must put on your face. 
My girls wear very special makeup for me, night and day. It's another 
one of my rules." Miss Juniper took a silver tray from another drawer 
and set it on top of the buffet. It was filled with cosmetics. She 
stirred around until she found the items she was looking for. Opening a 
small jar of white creme, she scooped up a dollop with her fingers and 
placed two wet dots on Shara's forehead, then a dot each on her chin, 
nose and both cheeks.

"Eyes closed, please," Miss J. ordered, taking a bit more creme from the 
jar. She began spreading the white substance around Shara's face, 
distributing it with swift circular motions from jawline to hairline, 
and creating the smooth white masque that mimes and geishas are known 
for. "Open your eyes, and take a look at yourself, honey." said Miss J. 
Seeing her image in the mirror above the buffet, Shara blinked. 
Virtually unrecognizable, her face was painted entirely in white, even 
her lips, eyes and brows. It was a startling change.

"Odd isn't it?" Miss Juniper asked as she wiped her fingers with a 
tissue, "What an amazing effect white foundation has. This is a 
professional grade of make up many stage performers use. It starts out 
greasy, but dries perfectly matte. In two minutes, it sets so well even 
soap and water can't budge it."

"Wh...why do you use this stuff, Miss Juniper?" Shara asked, staring at 
the foreign reflection in the mirror. The makeup had a strange smell, 
and she could feel it drying and tightening up on her skin. "It looks so 
odd, like I'm dead... or, some kind of a space alien."

"That's because I haven't drawn your eyes and lips back on yet," Miss 
Juniper chuckled, "Just wait. When I'm done you'll be delectable. You'll 
have the perfect face of a porcelain doll... one of my very special 
dolls." After taking a couple of items from the tray, she moved close to 
Shara's face again. "Now, close your eyes, and keep your lips slightly 
parted." her teacher whispered.

A few minutes later Miss Juniper announced that she was finished, and 
when Shara looked at herself again she was transfixed. Her lips were 
painted a bright glossy red. Against the bone white contrast of her skin 
her lips appeared huge and petulantly sexy. Thick black eyelashes 
accented her expressions, framing eyes that were articulated with dark 
liner on both her top and bottom lids. Delicately thin eyebrows, drawn 
in a classic arch, had been traced onto the smooth white expanse of 
Shara's forehead. Like some impossible paragon of femininity, her face 
came straight out of a myth. "Or at least from an upscale department 
store mannequin," Shara thought as she stared, captivated by her 
transformation. "Like it or hate it, though," Shara thought reverently, 
"you still have to look."         

"See what I mean, doll?" Miss Juniper asked proudly, standing behind the 
girl who was lost in thought. Miss J. suddenly took the leather 
drawstring that was located just above Shara's elbows and pulled it 
hard, moving her elbows closer together, and wringing a helpless gasp 
from the girl. 

"Oh, ahhhg! God, Miss J!" the girl winced, torn from her reverie and 
twisting her torso in desperation, "That hurts my arms. . . could you 
loosen it a little?"

"Certainly not," her teacher replied coolly, "This binder is rather 
loose by my standards. It will be tightened to its proper setting over 
the next few days with the help of some additional straps. It appears 
you've never worn a single sleeve before. It takes some getting used to, 
doesn't it? I love keeping my girls elbows locked together, you know. 
The poor dears look extraordinarily sexy that way. But don't worry about 
it. As you adjust, you will find that this is the natural state of 
things here. Except for a couple of hours of stretching each day, you 
will wear one of my binders continuously from now on."

Shara's eyes were full of tears again as she listened to her teacher's 
ominous words, and wrestled with the burning pain in her elbows, 
shoulders and breasts. The thing was unyielding, and she quickly 
realized that struggling only made it hurt worse. Shara's mind raced 
with fear. Natural state? How could she deal with it? Surely she would 
die if she had to wear something like this all of the time. As she 
agonized with the strain of her binder, Miss Juniper knelt to unbuckle 
Shara's platform heels. She guided her feet out of those tall shoes to 
rest on the carpet. She then removed the girl's white ankle socks and 
dropped them into a wastebasket, leaving her barefoot as well as 
entirely naked, except for the tight armbinder and the smooth rope 
garotte that gripped her gently by the throat.

"Almost ready for your bathroom break and shower," Miss Juniper said, 
"And you certainly need it. Those socks are soaked with perspiration. I 
have some very special boots to put on your later, after we get you 
cleaned up. Have you ever worn a tongue ring, my dear?"

"Umm... yes Ma'am," Shara responded, surprised by the question, "I just 
didn't put it in today. I wear it about half the time to condition my 
piercing."

"Very smart girl!" Miss J smiled, "You saved me the chore of piercing 
your tongue just now. Tongue rings are one of my favorite things. And 
not just for their visual appeal, which I do find very enticing. I like 
to employ them in creative ways to coerce and restrain my girls. There's 
nothing like it." Miss J. withdrew a two-foot length of medium chain 
from one of the top drawers. It had a ring at one end and a couple of 
clips at the other.

"Ooh, shit...," Shara said, letting her thoughts slip out of her mouth, 
"I have a feeling that I'm not going to like this very much."

"Oh, I can definitely guarantee you won't," Miss Juniper laughed, "Open 
up that pretty mouth of yours please . . . and extend your tongue."

Shedding more tears, Shara did as she was told. Miss J snapped open the 
hinged ring at the end of the chain, inserted it through the hole at the 
middle of Shara's tongue, then snapped the ring back together. The ring 
was an inch and a half in diameter, and pivoted to the front of Shara's 
tongue as Miss J. pulled gently on the chain.

"There we go!" the teacher said, tugging the girl's head experimentally 
from side to side with the chain, "I love the feeling of control a 
tongue tether gives me. It's so effective... I can never get enough of 
it. What do you think of it so far, dear?" Miss Juniper yanked the chain 
up sharply, tipping the frightened girl's head backwards.

"Annhhnnn. . . gghhaa!" Shara groaned helplessly with her tongue jutted 
out as far as it could go. Her throat muscles were very sore from the 
mouth rape she had endured earlier in class. The way her teacher was 
pulling her around did more than just hurt. It denied her of intelligent 
speech, relegating her at once to the status of an animal. It was 
unbelievably humiliating. Tears of pain and anger streamed down her 
clown-white cheeks as plaintive moans registered her distress. 

"Ohh... Don't you like my present?" Her teacher said in mock 
disappointment, "Well I think you look lovely this way. But the best is 
yet to come. Soon I'll be showing you how practical this part of your 
new uniform really is. Like my arm binders, you'll get used to your 
tongue bondage too, in time. Come with me, Shara. It's time to go potty 
and take your shower.

This was welcome news to Shara. Though fiery pain wracked her arms and 
mouth, she had greater troubles working in her bladder and colon. She 
needed to use a toilet in the worst way. And she was terrified of having 
an accident and angering her wicked hostess. 

Pulling steadily on the girl's tongue chain, Miss J led Shara down a 
hallway that ended with a door opening into a very large tile-covered 
restroom. It was equipped with every bathroom appliance Shara had ever 
seen, and several more she didn't recognize. The brightly-lit room and 
all of its gleaming porcelain and steel contents had a disquieting 
commercial-duty look to them. Miss J guided Shara to an unusual toilet 
along the far wall. It was very low and wide and would require Shara to 
perform almost a full squat to rest upon its seat. As the teacher bade 
her to sit, Shara noticed that there was a large protrusion at the 
center of the bowl. She blinked in astonishment when she realized that 
sitting on this thing would require screwing herself onto that oblong 
plug.

"That's right, dear," Miss Juniper said, recognizing the girl's plight, 
"You must sit down so that this porcelain plug goes all the way inside 
your cute ass. No cheating either; you must rest properly on the toilet 
seat to do your business like a good girl. Trust me, with your armbinder 
on, it won't be easy at first. Nor is it supposed to be. You see, this 
is more than just a bathroom. It is a disciplinary room where I teach my 
girls many things, and punish them too. This appliance is made for 
peeing only. No pooping is allowed in it, hence this attachment that 
plugs your ass while you sit down to pee. By the way, this is the only 
place my girls are allowed to pee in this restroom. There is another 
potty next to it here with the exact opposite purpose, see? Pooping 
only, and no peeing. So it has a sanitized cock-shaped appliance 
suitably sized and positioned to fill your pussy while you poop. That is 
the only place where you are permitted to do number two. When you 
relieve yourself in this room you must always use the pee potty first, 
then the poop potty, understood? Good! You may begin now." Miss 
Juniper's last four words had a harsh edge to them, and her eyes shone 
with excitement as she tugged on Shara's tongue chain with her right 
hand, and with her left hand pointed imperiously to the device Shara was 
to impale herself on.

As usual, the woman's cruel logic was as inescapable as it was bizarre. 
Shifting her body from side to side, Shara groaned and nodded in 
torment, desperately needing to urinate. She straddled the appliance and 
crouched slowly, trying to aim her asshole over the plug which appeared 
to rise 6 or 7 inches above the yawning rim of the commode. When her 
anus brushed the tip of it, Shara was grateful to feel that it was 
smoothly lubricated with some kind of grease. Shara began to push down 
on the hateful object, swallowing inch after inch of it with her ass, 
straining and sobbing as she went, until she seemed to hit a standstill. 

"That's right, my love," Miss Juniper cood, pulling up rudely on the 
tongue chain and looking Shara deep in the eyes, "Go on. Don't be 
scared. A little bit further and you'll be able to relieve yourself." 

Shara was packed so full she doubted that she could travel any further 
down the plug, but she was still an inch or two away from resting on the 
toilet seat. It was terrible. The height of the apparatus was carefully 
designed so that when the plug was at its fattest and panic set in, a 
victim's leg muscles would begin to cramp and lose coordination, 
especially without the use of her arms. At this point Shara's legs lost 
control and she fell the rest of the way down. She shrieked as her fall 
thrust the plug further up her ass. "God, what a horrible exercise to 
perform whenever a girl needs to pee!" Shara thought bitterly, "How can 
any of her girls survive this?" 

Once she was resting on the seat, Shara tried to compose herself, and 
concentrate on voiding her overfilled bladder, but found it to be a very 
difficult proposition with her bottom so thoroughly stuffed. She forced 
out one trickle, and then another. Finally she was peeing steadily, and 
gaining some relief. But about the time Shara felt her bladder was half 
empty, she felt something very warm squirting inside her ass. It 
startled her. The plug apparently had a water jet inside of it. Like a 
bidet from hell, it was spouting hot liquid into her. Shara looked up at 
Miss Juniper fearfully, wondering what was happening.

"It's OK, dear," her teacher reassured her, "Go right on peeing, the 
pee-pot always does that. It captures your flow, and when it measures a 
certain volume of urine it heats it up and begins to spray it deep 
inside your ass. On its current settings it won't hurt you. The device 
is self cleaning, and your urine is essentially sterile to begin with. 
Soon this slippery liquid will help facilitate your bowel movement as 
you proceed to job number two. Isn't that lovely?"

Shara wasn't sure what to think. A lot of words came to mind, but lovely 
certainly wasn't one of them. It was a strange, troubling sensation to 
know the piss she was struggling so hard to void was being heated and 
sprayed deep into her bowels. And miss Juniper's persistent tugs on her 
tongue ring weren't helping her to concentrate as she tried to finish 
pissing.

Then Miss Juniper did something very strange. She reached down with her 
free hand and rolled her fingers inside Shara's wide open mouth, 
lubricating them with the girl's spit. Then she moved her hand to 
Shara's breasts and began stroking them, and pulling gently on her 
nipples. Shara's nipples perked up immediately under her teacher's 
tender touch, and began to tingle. Shara's tits had always been 
unusually sensitive. She had occasionally achieved orgasms by 
manipulating them and nothing else. But even so, Shara couldn't believe 
how good they were feeling under these terrible conditions. It didn't 
make sense. Miss Juniper looked into Shara's eyes after she felt the 
girl's nipples harden, listening to the slight change of tone in Shara's 
moans. Miss J understood all too well. It was time to teach her love-pet 
something brand new.

With a few swift movements Miss Juniper unbuttoned her sleeveless knit 
dress down to her waist and pulled off her bra, exposing two beautiful 
breasts with very prominent nipples. She then hiked up her dress and 
crouched down in front of Shara until her golden brown tits were 
directly in front of Shara's face. She gave the girl's tongue chain a 
couple of meaningfully sharp tugs and Shara immediately responded with 
energetic sucking and licking. At first this activity felt awkward to 
Shara with her tongue bondage in place, but she adjusted to it quickly, 
once her teacher's free hand resumed stroking the girl's breasts. Shara 
relaxed somewhat and felt some more urine flow out of her. She closed 
her eyes and continued to suckle her mistress's breasts as she felt 
another hot squirt go into her backside. With a face full of perfumed 
breast flesh, she was beginning to forget the trouble in her arms and 
inside her ass. She even found herself wishing she could reach her 
clitoris somehow, but that was out of the question. Her hands might as 
well have been on the moon.

Suddenly Shara felt warm liquid strike her pussy and thighs. Without any 
warning, Miss Juniper had begun pissing too, right through her 
pantyhose! Her strong-smelling urine was splashing through the opening 
in front of Shara's crotch and into the toilet, with a good amount of it 
first landing on Shara's tummy and legs along the way. As she continued 
her nipple loving duties, Shara looked up questioningly at her teacher, 
whose eyes burned with lust.

"Yes baby, that's right," Miss Juniper groaned ecstatically, "My piss 
will soon be joining yours, deep inside your ass. And I have a whole lot 
of it for you, too. You're going to be one very full love-doll, did you 
know that? All filled up and anointed with your mistress's piss.... How 
do you feel about that, sweetie? Is it just too nasty for words? 
Mmmmmm.... Isn't this about the sexiest thing you ever heard of?" Miss J 
tugged and twisted Shara's nipples while she continued to piss and taunt.

Shara couldn't believe this was happening. Miss Juniper had degraded her 
in ways she could never have imagined. Taken away everything she had... 
her future, her freedom, her speech, her dignity, even the simple 
sanctity of eliminating her body wastes. All gone. This woman had seized 
control of everything her life consisted of, and had been cruel about it 
in every way. But here Shara was, inexplicably loving it anyway. The 
mere fact that she was finding pleasure in all this, and that her 
mistress knew it, was the final straw. Miss J knew exactly where Shara 
was now, tied to the tracks of the orgasm express, and this was the 
ultimate humiliation for Shara. But it really didn't matter, because 
even that felt good now. Bucking and bobbing on a blissful ocean of 
submissive sensations, Shara was on the verge of coming. If only... she 
could reach her clitoris...

Suddenly the piss fountain went to work again, spurting her teacher's 
copious offering into Shara's bottom. But Miss Juniper hadn't even 
slowed down yet. She was still pissing like a racehorse, pouring her 
fluid into the commode, and eventually, into her bound love vessel.

"There it goes!" her mistress whispered excitedly and sensuously, "I can 
hear the pump starting up. It's sending me straight inside of your body, 
Shara. Warming you up, cleaning you out, filling you to the brim with my 
essence...tell me this isn't lovely... your body betrays you, my dear. 
You love this... don't you?"

"It is lovely. Yes... So lovely!" Shara's thoughts reeled feverishly as 
her tongue continued its work. 

Miss Juniper was nearing the end of her expulsion of piss, and she knew 
from the desperate sounds Shara was making that her student was close to 
a life-altering climax. She leaned down toward Shara's mouth, while 
pulling the girl's ringed tongue up towards her, forcibly initiating 
that mouth to be kissed. But the sly woman applied her kisses very 
tenderly, as she delicately stroked and tasted the girl's rouged lips 
with her brightly painted mouth. Meanwhile she took her hand away from 
Shara's breasts and attacked the girl's pussy instead, it was soaking 
wet with urine and the secretions of her arousal. Shara immediately 
began crying and babbling into Miss J's mouth as her mistress rubbed her 
sex furiously.

Half mad with pleasure, and aching with need, Shara orgasmed with all of 
her strength. She came, twisting and straining helplessly on her nozzle 
as it injected the balance of her mistress's waste. With the pain in her 
breasts and arms a mere afterthought, Shara came again and again with 
her tormentress's hand rubbing her pussy, and her butter-soft tongue 
sliding coyly into Shara's mouth. High on a misty mountaintop of 
pleasure Shara beheld her fate, a life of servitude to this woman who 
knew how to make Shara crave every painful and degrading trial a person 
could dream up.


End of part XI
© Aiken, 2001
All rights reserved

"High-heeled hell" Part XII
(c) Aiken 2004


"Hi Paul!" Miss Juniper exclaimed to her old college chum standing in her
doorway, "Come in. You're right on time. Do you need some help with that?"

Kilo's Industrial Corp.'s top engineer Paul Ning had phoned Dana Juniper three
days earlier, wanting to show off another one of his remarkable inventions.
Ludmilla Hinton, Paul's 22-year old security intern was field testing the new
device for a scholastic paper on proper slave training techniques. Looking
forward to a fun weekend Miss J. eagerly invited him over.

"No thanks, I've got it," Paul smiled as he stepped in carrying a heavy case.
"Miss Juniper, may I present to you Lou Hinton, the graduate student I was
telling you about, and her volunteer Otis Fenn."

Ludmilla entered the apartment carrying two padded equipment bags and greeted
Miss Juniper with her most radiant smile. Otis, following Ludmilla warily into
the room, glanced in all directions.

Otis had been wooing Ludmilla for nearly a year, but she'd rebuffed his frequent
proposals for marriage. She made it clear that any chance he had to retain her
good favor required him to submit to her bizarre research, and endure a series
of painful and rigorous tests. Her experiments required strict controls and
precise data, and offered little in the way of kindness or comfort. He didn't
like the sound of that, but hoping to satisfy her demands and ultimately win her
marital consent, Otis agreed to her mysterious and frightening terms anyway.

Miss Juniper led her three guests through her living and dining rooms and down a
short hallway to a sparsely-furnished area she called her playroom. It was
actually a large skylit atrium leading to her ninth-floor balcony and two guest
rooms. Miss J found the spacious, brightly lit area perfect for parties and
domination games.

She was wearing one of her favorite outfits for Saturday entertaining - a black
leather vest cut tight at the bodice and high-waisted leather pants with corset
lacing, custom fitted to her slender hips and shapely ass. Knee-high black
leather boots with tall heels completed her stylish tone. A long-sleeved white
blouse with delicate embroidery added a touch of softness and contrast to her
aggressive riding leathers; two buttons left undone at the top drew Paul's eyes
to a touch of cleavage at her breasts. Her eyelids were shadowed in a smoky
color; her lips were as famously red and glossy as ever. Small wisps of her
loosely pinned-up auburn hair strayed occasionally into her eyes, completing the
lusty illusion of an impetuous senorita fresh from her morning romp on
horseback.

"Well, here we all are..." She said, expectantly clasping her hands together,
"Would any of you like some water, juice or coffee perhaps?"

"Thanks, Dana," Paul replied. He rested the oversized case on the floor and
began to unlatch it, "I'm good for now. Maybe some coffee later though... I'll
unpack this unit and let these two get started. What about you, Lou?"

"Thank you, Miss Juniper," Ludmilla answered, "A pitcher of ice water and some
dry towels could be helpful to us later in our presentation."

Ludmilla placed her bags near one of the large ferns at the perimeter of the
room and took a deep breath, feeling tiny butterflies of stage fright, even
though she was looking her best. She wore her royal blue rayon skirt-suit and
jacket, dark nylons and sleek four-inch tall black leather pumps. The suit's
slim cut and split skirt made the most of her trim figure and long legs, and its
color always accentuated her blonde hair, which she wore medium length with a
slight curl. Her white silk blouse and tie looked fresh and sexy framed by the
jacket's narrow blue lapels.

Lou hoped her dressy attire and lavishly applied makeup would please her
hostess, who had a well-known passion for such things. Performing in the home of
Miss Juniper, a domme Lou had revered for years, excited the young intern beyond
measure. Nothing would satisfy Lou more than giving back a fraction of the
pleasure the notorious teacher had already given her. Juniper's soft yet lethal
style of torturing young ladies entranced Ludmilla every time she watched her
idol perform live on CTC, or in dozens of popular Miss J. torture vids and
tutorials. And her eternal penchant for sexy heels and flamboyant lipsticks had
inspired Lou right from the beginning. Lou emulated those same delightfully
femme fetishes in her own emerging style of dominance, which for some reason she
preferred to dispense upon men rather than women.

Consensual torture and invokement of women was a highly visible and publicly
celebrated form of art these days, but subjugating men in a similar fashion was
considered a risky proposition, to be arranged in whispers and conducted behind
sealed doors only. That was one of the aspects that attracted Lou so much to
dominating males. Its taboo nature made it a form of edge play, even though a
wealth of men secretly craved such harsh treatment. Kilo's engineers had been
looking in the same direction for new profits when they hired Lou. Their
marketing chiefs saw a strong business potential in male torture, which she
could help them develop and refine.

Lou pointed a well-manicured fingertip at Otis's belt. Following her silent cue
he hurriedly began to undress. As he fumbled with his clothing, she removed two
cameras and matching tripods from her bags and expertly mounted them at right
angles to the center of the room. Lou trained in live production arts as a teen
and worked as a studio engineer during college as she pursued a degree in
security management. Three weeks after commencement she was working at Kilo
Corporation, directly under the legendary Paul Ning. She felt lucky and blessed.

"Dana, this is our new MST-2200 in its easy-traveling design," Paul said. He
lifted a mass of metal from the case and began unfolding the complex mechanism
at the center of the room's tile-covered floor. Paul's hands moved quickly,
snapping sturdy alloy struts into place until a rigid three-foot tall
rectangular-shaped table began to appear.

"It's part of a new system of self-punishment tools we've been developing
exclusively for men." Paul explained as he worked, "We're testing it in tandem
with Lou's research. When her paper is published in the trades later this
summer, we'll have these for sale in all of the usual outlets."

"How exciting," said Miss J, "I've been anxious to see this demonstration ever
since you teased me mercilessly on the phone the other day." She poured two cups
of coffee at the kitchenette in a small alcove of her playroom, and strolled
back to watch her friend assemble his toy.

"A smooth surface like your floor here is ideal," Paul said as he finished up
and slid his empty case out of harm's way, "Its six legs have suction-clamp
feet. They'll keep everything stable, even during the roughest sessions. The
MST-2200 excels in participatory incarcerations and self-torture. The prisoner
crouches over the trainer, slipping his knees into these padded stretch-cups at
the back. They're just tall enough to trap his legs in a tightly bent position.
The arms slide through these steel rings fixed near the top corners of the
table's opposite end. See those two handlebar grips near the bottoms of the far
legs? He'll be just able to reach them when he fully reclines over the table's
frame. Steel wrist restraints are activated automatically when he grasps both of
the handles. That single action imprisons a subject on the table by his manacled
wrists, isolating him from any contact with the floor. By this time both his
thighs will be resting against vertical plastic pads at the back of the frame.
The tight geometry of this bondage locks both hips in position, insuring that
his knees can't be lifted out of their rubbery pouches. A prisoner's back can't
be arched more than a fraction of an inch, nor can his arms be heaved from side
to side, thanks to the cuffs and harm hoops keeping his wrists and elbows in
check. He will remain thus, securely bound by his own hands until someone
releases his wrist cuffs with a key, or until his sentence is served, assuming
the unit has been configured for timed release."

"Ah!" Miss Juniper mused, handing Paul his cup of coffee, "Self-bondage done
right, eh?"

"Yes, but there is more," Paul smiled, "Though a subject's body is kept in rigid
bondage, the unit itself is nevertheless designed for a special type of
movement. Flexing his wrists up and down against his handgrips, the entire
framework holding his body slides backward and forward on a lubricated inner
carriage. Its travel can be regulated from zero to twenty centimeters. The
reason for this oscillation will become clear to you during today's tests."

"This is starting to sound pretty good," Miss J chuckled, "It almost reminds me
of those MTP units of yours we tested on Shara Simmonds and her mother last
month. They used a single means of restraint also. But the portability of this
design looks terrific. So does the easy access it gives to a victim's buttocks.
It should make an ideal whipping table."

"Oh yes, It's perfect for whippings and canings," Paul replied, "and ass
fuckings too. But the added charm of this device comes from how intelligent it
is. It's actually a customizable torture robot, with a huge capacity of
programmable actions. Weeks worth of rules and instructions can be stored on a
removable disk half the size of a credit card. The same disk can also record a
mind-boggling amount of data about virtually everything that occurs on the
table. It tracks body temperatures, respiratory cycles, electrical properties,
pain levels, session audio, speed and distances traveled - you name it. Up to
one month of continuous activity can be stored on a single disk. It gives us an
unheard-of ability for research and record keeping."

Standing across the large room, Ludmilla and Otis were unaware of Paul and
Dana's brisk conversation. Ludmilla had finished setting her cameras on
auto-record. She stood facing her naked boyfriend, reapplying an intense shade
of red lipstick to her mouth in a ritual she followed a dozen or more times each
day. With hands folded behind his back, Otis held a three-inch square mirror for
her, gripping a rubber mouthpiece behind the mirror with his teeth, and standing
as motionless as possible while she painted her sexy lips. Between strokes she
stopped to press her lips together languorously and admire her glossy
reflection, mere inches from his face and close enough for him to smell the
subtle perfume of her cosmetics. Every so often she paused to pluck at her
boyfriend's nipples with her sharp fingernails before resuming her application.

"This unit has been pre-sized to Otis's exact dimensions," Paul continued. "So
the leg cups should fit like a glove. The four-point restraint is a precise body
match too. Another important customization has to do with his genitals, which
fit inside a rectangular tray as he stretches across the table. The PT tray as
we often call it is a three-sided stainless steel box containing sophisticated
instruments for penile torture. It will abuse a man's penis, balls and ass in a
variety of preselected ways. The tray remains stationary along with the table's
handlebars and sub-chassis, even as the rest of the unit slides with the
prisoner's wrist motions. Indeed the tray will require him to do just that...
move smoothly and deliberately forward and back."

"How delightful," said Miss Juniper, patting a loveseat for her and Paul to sit
in, "Tell me some more about the genital tortures!"

"I knew you'd be interested in that part, Dana," Paul answered with a grin,
"Perhaps it's best explained by demonstration. Are you and your subject ready
for an equipment shakedown, Lou?"

"Yes Mr. Ning, all set," Ludmilla answered, scraping her bright red nails across
Otis's chest and looking into his frightened eyes, "Aren't you, Odie? Well...
except for this thing."

Shivering slightly, Otis saw his ladylove frown in displeasure over his flaccid
penis.

"You promised to keep yourself suitably stiff for me," She said with a pout,
"Remember Odie, I want my subjects to enjoy whatever I do to them. It's a sign
of their love, and a vital part of my tests."

"Uh, sorry," he said, touching his cock. It felt distant and cold, an extension
of the anxiety the rest of him was feeling, "I don't know, maybe I'm too scared
or something."

"We'll have to work on that problem," she said, pulling open one of her
equipment bags, "I won't tolerate a disobedient penis. Fortunately I have a
stim-ring, but disappointing me is going to cost you."

Ludmilla placed a small rubbery-looking doughnut around the head of Otis's penis
and pressed a button on the underside of it. The circlet inflated slightly and
emitted a faint humming noise. A row of tiny lights began flashing in a circular
pattern around the ring. Otis gasped with immediate pleasure. His organ bathed
in the warm impulses flashing through the ring. In less than a minute the shy
penis ascended to a fully hardened state, drooling a bit of pre-seminal fluid
and nodding with apparent lust in tempo with the man's excited heartbeat.

"There... much better," she said humorlessly, "But you'll get a larger probe on
account of this."

"I've trained him to respond to my lipstick and nipple play for several weeks
now," Ludmilla said to Paul and Miss Juniper, "He was maintaining nice hardons
for me, even with the weights I kept on his balls. But we're in a new setting
today. His conditioning seems to have faltered."

"It's OK," said Paul, "First-timer's nerves. Make a note of this in your chart
for tracking his improvement. Are you ready to coach him into the device now?"

"Absolutely, Sir!" she smiled for Paul. "He's hard and ready... and so indeed am
I."

"You may proceed," Paul said.

Come with me," Ludmilla commanded her lover, steering him tenderly by his right
arm, "I'll be guiding you this time. But after the first session you'll have to
do it all by yourself."

Otis first thought of lifting himself up by his arms and placing both knees in
the cups at once, but he soon discovered that wouldn't work. His muscular legs
had to be manually pressed into tight jack-knives to fit inside the stretchy
knee cups. With Lou's hands assisting him, Otis lifted his right leg and folded
it firmly behind him before dropping his right knee into the first cup. By the
way it enveloped his leg, Otis knew he wouldn't be going anywhere soon.

It now became a challenge to lift his left leg high enough to angle it into the
second cup. His helper offered no assistance this time. She waited for him to
solve the problem by himself. Finally he turned his hip outward and tried
leaning his upper body away from the left cup and pressing the leg into a tight
fold with his left arm. After a couple of tries he felt his left knee go in at
last. His legs were fully fused inside the cups, which seemed to ensnare him
like oversized Chinese finger puzzles. Otis doubted he could withdraw himself
later without some assistance, especially if he grew tired and sore from his
bondage.

"You did your second leg very nicely," Lou said, patting him on his back, "Here
comes the tricky part though. We need to insert this item into your penis."

"What?" Otis blinked apprehensively as his girlfriend held up a silver-colored
rod. It was nearly nine inches long and as wide as a soda straw. He noticed the
rod swelled to a one-inch thick knob about an inch away from the top end. Above
that nob the rod resumed its soda-straw thickness again. She tugged the
stim-ring off the head of Otis's penis and gave his engorged organ a friendly
little squeeze.

"Still nice and firm." she said proudly, "Good. Now it's time to anchor the
penis probe into place." She pressed the rod into a round socket of the two-inch
high lip at the far end of the PT tray so that the probe's rounded tip pointed
backward toward Otis's genitals. A soft click could be heard followed by a small
beeping tone.

"Testing chime," she said eagerly as she crouched on the right side of her
nervous boyfriend and swirled a pinkie finger in the sticky fluid at the end of
his cock, "I just love that sound."

"Sockets and probes have micro-electric connectors inside them." she explained,
"They sense lots of business going on, including how much probe is buried inside
you at any given moment. This model is one size up from the narrowest one I'd
planned on using today, but it's relatively very slim. There are eight larger
sizes too, and ten shapes for each size. Think of it... a hundred different ways
I can choose from to train a boyfriend's naughty penis!"

Otis stared at her in astonishment, not quite believing her alien-sounding
words. He hoped she was joking, but it didn't appear to sound that way.

As she spoke, Lou produced a small tube of ointment and squeezed a stripe of
clear gel atop the seven inches of probe beneath its ball-shaped knob. She then
placed a large blob of gel at the opening of Otis's penis and tossed the tube
away. Lifting up at the knob near the socketed end of the probe, Lou angled the
flexible spear upward. She tilted the young man's erection down with her other
hand, and without further ado gently placed the tip of the probe into the
buttered eye of his penis.

"Push," she said simply, "Use your body, not your hands."

"Ohhh.." Otis moaned, frightened and surprised by the acute sensation he felt.

"That's right... drive yourself forward," she cood, stroking his erection with
two delicate fingers.

"Oh God, it's stabbing me!" he yelped, gripping the frame as he moved his penis
forward, "This hurts!"

"I know it does dear, but keep leaning forward anyway" she said, lightly tracing
his penis with her fingers and squeezing his buttocks with her other hand, "This
is only number two warmer-gel I'm using, but then I'll bet your dick has never
been raped before. Look how smoothly it slides in anyway, violating your poor
penis... Isn't this sexy? Maybe it will help you not to watch. We're impaling
you very naturally just by lying across my table."

Lou was flushed with excitement as she saw the second inch of silvery plastic
disappear into her boyfriend's defenseless cock. She took a moment to friction
her vulva through her pantyhosed crotch. Its tight silken gusset already swam in
the secretions of her arousal. Lou adored the feelings it gave her to control a
man's body so unconditionally. She also loved the idea of making a man's penis
perform an act clearly opposite to its genetic purpose. But to insist that he
subjugate his own cock in this way to satisfy her requirements was sweet icing
on her cake.

"I don't like this..." Otis complained again, "Not a bit. I don't think I can
continue..." He was trembling in pain and dripping sweat. Panic rose in his
throat.

"Nonsense," Lou replied tapping at his nipples with her left hand and squeezing
his cock firmly with her right, "You're doing great - better than you know.
There's lots of room left inside this dick of yours, Odie, and my probe is
barely halfway in. We don't dare stop."

"I'm telling you I can't do this," he cried, "I hate it. It burns... please, we
have to quit." He began struggling from side to side, unconsciously increasing
the distress inside his cock.

"Forget that silly talk and keep going," she said, taking a firm grab of his
scrotum to end the hysterics. "You don't hate this at all... what you hate is a
probe four sizes bigger than this one, or one with ten little balls on it, or
the rippled models that rotate, with number seven warmer-gel to drill through.
That's exactly what you'll get if you don't cooperate. Now do as I say and get
your body forward. Put those arms up through the stirrups and lay yourself down.
That's all you need to do. Your penis is at the right angle now. More than three
inches of my silver phallus is fucking you nicely. The rest of it will slide in
all by itself if you'll quit being such a crybaby."

The man whimpered as he tried to heed his lover's callous commands. Inching his
fingers up the sides of the frame, he reached for the arm hoops and felt the
probe driving deeper into his helpless penis. Otis groaned loudly as he thrust
his elbows past the hoops, then fell forward with a sob, crashing his chest into
the top of the table. A wave of agony stabbed the base of his cock as the head
of his penis came to rest against the probe's large knob.

"Well done!" Ludmilla cheered with a clap of her hands.

"Mmmm..." Miss J. growled softly to Paul as they sat watching from their nearby
seat. "Paul, this is lovely. I wonder what a tool like that could do for some of
the big tough board members at my school."

"They find humility pretty fast," Paul suggested, "We have a dozen couples
beta-testing these tables right now. The results so far are spectacular. But
none of them are being supervised like Lou and Otis here are. We gave her 3
weeks of intensive training on how to dominate a man using the MST-2200. Otis
doesn't know what he's up against. She's following the exact recipe we taught
her for reducing any would-be husband to a fully compliant slave, if not a
babbling slut masochist, in about a month. Nothing compares to the power this
unit has, either as a male disciplinary method, or as a means for completely
restructuring a man's behavior."

"Not to mention an excellent sex toy," Miss Juniper chimed in cheerfully, "I'm
getting off just watching the two of them. Ludmilla has a real talent for this.
As you know, torturing men isn't my area of interest. I've always preferred
semi-consensual young ladies. But, that gadget and your intern are inspiring me
to try a little of it. Do you mind if I masturbate?"

"I would love for you to do that," Paul said smiling, "and so would Lou I think.
She idolizes you quite a bit. She wants this demonstration to make you very
happy."

"I really must have one of these tables," she said, squeezing his leg for
emphasis as her other hand snaked its way down to her leather-covered clitoris.

"I was hoping you'd feel that way," Paul replied with a wink, "And don't worry,
our bargain is still in effect. I'll have one of them delivered to you whenever
you're ready to experiment with it, or feature it in one of your network
broadcasts."

"You'll want to work on improving your style points in future sessions, Odie."
Ludmilla said grinning and fiddling with her gold bracelet, "And that whining of
yours definitely has to go. But I admit you did pretty well for a first-timer.
Now, feel for those two handles and squeeze on them hard. That's all it takes
now to lock yourself in."

Choking back a sob, her defeated boyfriend complied with her final instructions.
Grasping the two handlebars tightly he felt a steel handcuff ensnare each wrist.
Preset for his exact wrist size, they held him securely yet without any
additional pain.

"OK. I'm done with your test," he sighed, cooling his cheek on the flat section
of table frame beneath his head. He was keeping his lower body absolutely
motionless in hopes that his penis wouldn't need to suffer anymore. "Would you
mind helping me out of this mess?"

"Don't be rude," Lou replied, "I plan to help you up as soon as your lesson is
finished, but it actually hasn't begun yet. Your first lesson was supposed to
include twenty minutes of PT tray activities. But since you took more than the
three minutes you're allotted for climbing aboard the MST, you've earned seven
extra disciplinary minutes, for a total of twenty-seven minutes of penile
punishment."

"What are you talking about?" Otis said trying to blink the stinging
perspiration from his eyes. All of a sudden Lou was using the word lesson
instead of session, and punishment instead of training. This talk was
frightening him.

"Punishments for what?" He asked incredulously.

"You'll get better at this, darling," she said, patting the sweat from his neck
with a cool cloth, "Your performance will improve tomorrow and the next day and
each day after that. I'm sure of it. The idea is for you to hop aboard my table
efficiently without any fussing or trouble, fill your cock to the brim and lock
your body down at the exact times I've designated; you'll even do it by yourself
if I'm not around. I'll have my cameras positioned to record your progress as
you ride my table for longer and longer durations, while using various exotic
probes I've selected for screwing your penis. Of course the MST keeps track of
everything too. It tabulates each minute of your suffering. It also counts the
seconds between your knee cuppings and your wrist cuff engagements. If more than
three minutes elapse you earn the seven extra minutes of trouble. More than five
minutes gets you another ten. It's based on a conditioning program I devised
just for you. I didn't set guidelines higher than five minutes because I have
faith in your desire to toe my marks. But, Odie, stay on the lookout for those
penalties to increase without warning. Also, after a certain number of sessions
tough penalties will be levied against your two and three minute mountings. And
those times will shorten again and again. See how it works? And no I won't tell
you how many sessions it takes to activate those changes, or even if it's
random. That's irrelevant anyway. What's important is your desire to improve
your lockdown times for me, and to anticipate my desires, or even leap ahead of
them. So be aware of such rule changes from now on."

"But you're not even telling me the rules," he said, close to tears, "How am I
supposed to know them?"

"I don't expect you to know," Ludmilla said, "I expect you to remain sincere."
It's a key part of my research for you not to know when I'm counting the
seconds, or grading you on actions you should be doing to your utmost anyway.
Otherwise, you'd try to coast along the rest of the time. What better way to
discover the importance of doing exactly as I've wished, and not waste time
about it, than to take the very punishments I've set out for you? You must
experience them anyway for my data to be complete, but doing it this way is more
fun, plus it makes you a better table slave. So... I expect you to strive and
learn. When you come up short, which will be often, I'll expect you to suffer
for a while and take it like a man. Don't cry about it. This first lesson is the
easiest one of all, a mere twenty-seven minutes, even with your penalty. And
you've lucked out too. You missed getting another ten-minute penance by eleven
seconds. Count your blessings for that. In any case on days two through seven
I've got you scheduled for thirty-six minutes of minimum table torture. However,
any slack in following my instructions, or laziness shown in less conspicuous
ways will earn you extra minutes, or extra sessions, or any of dozens more ways
I have of chastising you."

"Damn," Otis thought to himself. "Days and days of this, and dozens of
punishments? None of it sounds right. How can my sweetheart be saying these
words to me? If it weren't for the ache in my penis and the strain in my arms
and legs, I'd say I was dreaming. But it's real. My pain is real, and so are
Ludmilla's cruel smiles."

"Lou, how long is this crazy shit going to last?" he asked his captress.

"It isn't polite to make fun of someone's research," Lou said, "But since you've
asked, I have a five-week schedule of lessons for you already programmed into
the MST. I should have enough data by then to compile my final report and earn
my masters degree in universal security. Your trials should be over then also,
unless you wish to engage in further experimentation."

"Say, haven't we been using up those twenty-seven minutes?" Otis thought
suddenly, "I guess we've knocked out about a dozen of them already, right?"

"Good try," She smiled tenderly, "But those minutes still await you, Odie. The
sequence would have started long before now, sixty seconds after your wrist
cuffing in fact. But I paused your torture so we could chat awhile. Everything
looks spooky to a test subject during a trial run. So it makes sense to take
matters slowly the first time, and do some explaining. This is actually your
toughest test of all, my love. Now that you know the kinds of tasks I'll be
demanding from you over the next several weeks you'll need all your courage to
move beyond this point. There will be no more pausing after today, and no
mornings, afternoons or evenings off. We must proceed ahead on schedule, and you
must cope the best way you can."

"The best way I can..." he repeated dubiously, finding fresh pangs of fear in
her words, "Five weeks you say... I wonder if I can be that strong."

"Dearest, you already are that strong!" Lou smiled. She kneeled again, bringing
her face very close and stroking his hair. She grazed his cheek with her
enameled lips and teased him with her scented whispers, "You're here with me
right now aren't you? I've chosen you... and you've accepted my challenge.
There's your strength. All you have to do is keep it. Keep your strength and
you'll keep me. Work hard to finish this and you'll become my hero, the man who
completes me, my treasure always. If you ran away from all this, I couldn't
blame you a bit. I've told you these tests would be miserable at times, but that
I would make them as easy for you as I possibly could. Still only a man with the
greatest love and commitment can finish my inquiry. And that man is you. I know
the strength is inside you, as surely as that probe sits in your penis right
now. Naturally if you don't agree and choose to give up, I will never set eyes
on you again. We already spoke of that, remember? If you want to quit, let me
know now. I'll understand. I'll set you free immediately and we'll say goodbye."

"Oh come on, baby..." Otis moaned, "Why does it have to be like this? You know I
don't want that. I want you. I want to help you with your project and I want us
to stay in love. But I'm still afraid. I'm not afraid of the pain. I fear not
knowing, being left in the dark. I don't have a clue why it is you need to hurt
me so much, Lou, or what the end result is supposed to be. What can any of this
junk be telling you? You're poking things up my dick? Why would anyone want such
data?"

"I know it sounds crazy," she said, "But you just have to trust me. And no, I
will not be sticking things inside your penis. You will be doing that. Each time
you do it you'll be proving your love for me all over again, and I will love you
for that. Every time you reach a new high in your training, I'll be there to
cheer you on and celebrate your bravery until you finish my course. And you will
finish it - trust me. It won't all be pain and punishments, darling. I'll kiss
you and give you strength when you need it the most. Could you have jammed that
probe up your cock just now and climbed over this table without my
encouragements?"

"No way." he replied thoughtfully, "I could never have done it. Then again, not
in a million years would I have wanted to..."

"There, see what I mean?" she said, positioning her smiling lips close to his,
"Something so nutty you'd never dream of doing it, or of having the strength for
it - but look at you now. You're very much alive and none the worse for wear.
You're hurting in places, but that's because I'm still teaching you things - new
rules about yourself, and about us, and about an amazing new device that
thousands of men will be discovering soon. I'm taking you places you don't
understand yet. But you will... you'll dare to understand each lesson at the
correct time. Think darling... in ten or twelve days I'll have you trained
beautifully. You will impale your cock without the use of your hands at all. You
won't need a stim-ring either. Your man will stay stiff as a board for me as you
line him up and slide right up onto one of my prongs - more difficult ones than
that skinny poker you're wearing today... and all that to honor me! I'll be so
proud when you can do that, and for all the other hurdles you'll cross. And at
every new level there will be kisses for you. Love and sex and more kisses. The
best ones you ever had. Do you want my sex and kisses, sweetheart? Do you want
them right now?"

"Yes! Of course I do," he cried eagerly.

"You're wonderful!" Lou smiled joyously, "I knew you could do this for me!"

Ludmilla gave her beau a powerful kiss on the lips, smearing her bright lipstick
onto his mouth, leaving her sultry red trademarks upon his lips and tongue, and
her heady perfume close to his nostrils. He pressed forward for another heavenly
taste of her just as she eased away. Lou stood and backed up a few steps,
clicking her narrow black heels ominously against the tiles. She placed her left
hand over the gold bracelet she wore, which doubled as a remote MST controller.
She was ready to press the tiny buttons that would unlock the table's movable
carriage, and engage the events she'd carefully planned for Otis's first harsh
lesson - the twenty-seven minutes of pitiless training he would never forget.

"Just a taste of your mistress before we begin your schooling, dear," she smiled
wickedly, "The love and sex comes first - my special love and sex that is. We'll
kiss like mad at the ten-minute mark. Can you wait ten short minutes for my
kisses, love? Promise me you'll hold out that long?"

"The woman is crazy," he thought in bewilderment, "With wacky ways of loving
someone. A guy has to be nuts for loving her back -but God help me, I do. Should
I endure ten more minutes of who-knows-what to collect on those kisses?" Otis
struggled a long moment for his answer.

"Umm... uh. Ok..." Otis replied at last, his voice tightening in fear of what
Ludmilla would do next.


End of part XII
(c) Aiken, 2004
All rights reserved

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