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Subject: {ASSM} NEW: "T.Y.T.C. 4.6 - Teresa's Tale" - by The StoryMaster - [M+~TeenF+, nc] 6/?
Date: Mon, 29 May 2000 22:10:04 -0400
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The following story is a work of fiction. Its contents are of a
graphically sexual nature and may involve non-consensual sexual acts
between underage partners. Any resemblance to persons either alive or
dead is purely coincidental. This story is intended for ADULTS only.
If you are under the legal age of consent in your local jurisdiction,
or if you are easily offended, kindly STOP READING NOW.
________________________________________________________
Authors Note: As a rule I prefer not to post multi-part stories, but
this one is getting so very long that unfortunately, I must.
________________________________________________________
T.Y.T.C. 4.6 - Teresa's Tale - by - The StoryMaster
Her first few steps were rather painful actually as the seven inch
anal insert that the Center had provided her with jabbed painfully at
Teresa's insides. One could always tell a new Guest by her waddling
gate. After a few days, however, she would become used to it and
adjust herself around its continuous presence. But always it would be
there for her, drawing Teresa's attention away from those things that
are unimportant and helping her to focus.
Padding along behind her Handler, Teresa felt extremely exposed in her
present state of nakedness. "At least in that last hideous place
they'd dressed her," she thought to herself. "Let go of me," Teresa
snapped obstinately when after walking a few yards, the fact that she
was being led by the hand like a small child became abhorrent to her.
Without a word, Scott transferred his grip to her wrist and pulled the
upset teenager along behind him. "I said, let go!" Teresa shouted and
began to struggle with Scott.
"How quickly they forget," Scott muttered to himself. He didn't have
to look back for he knew what was about to take place. As he tugged
his stubborn charge along against her will, Cliff came up from behind.
Scott heard the telltale grunt characteristic of disciplinary CAP
management, and knew that Cliff had offered Teresa some encouragement.
She'd leaned over and nearly succeeded in biting Scott's hand when the
blow was struck. As a result, Teresa pitched forward and came very
close to falling when the vile instrument in her rear end was struck
by the second Handler. By design, the force of his blow was direction
to the base of Teresa's spine, knocking the wind out of the
disobedient teenager, and causing her knees to buckle. Cliff was
quick to grab her under her armpit thus preventing an embarrassing
spill. Scott, refusing to recognize the young woman's distress,
continued to tug on her wrist, forcing her to stumble behind him down
the corridor. Hearing her grunt a second time as a result of some
additional inspiration, Scott at last looked back at the chestnut
haired beauty he had in tow.
"Kindly keep up, Miss Davidson. We have a busy schedule this
evening." The look of astonishment the girl gave him was almost
comical. "They're all the same for the first week or so," Scott
mused. "Head strong, contentious, determined to resist, still certain
that somehow they will be delivered from their fate."
Since the Center opened nearly fourteen years ago, not a single Guest
has ever left the fold before her time. When at last, a young lady is
deemed ready to graduate, she is not the same young lady who once
stood before the Headmaster's desk at her "Double I". In addition,
the placement program at TYTC makes absolutely certain that the new
life she will be assuming is far removed from her past existence. No
details are left unattended to. All the "I's" are dotted and the
"T's" crossed. The security system at The Youth Training Center is
altogether failsafe.
Generally after the first week, Guests begin to become somewhat less
insubordinate. By the time they enter their second week, they have
usually come to grips with the fact that they will not be rescued or
released. Also, the daily training regimens they engage in tend to
keep them quite well occupied. After two weeks, the Center's
persistent program of conditioning using sexual impetus begins to
erode their sense of self. Then once the trappings of her old belief
system are cast aside, the work begins to create a new young woman
with fresh new ideals. Arrogance is replaced by willingness, vanity
by humility, and impertinence by obedience. Where once there was
discord, harmony reigns.
Teresa's life was far from harmonious at the moment. She'd ceased her
struggling following Cliff's second swat of her CAP Device. Now she
merely muttered curses under her breath while she was lead down a
labyrinth of corridors toward an uncertain future.
The Youth Training Center was indeed immense. Constructed in utter
secrecy, the entire sprawling structure with its offices,
laboratories, dormitories, classrooms and other training facilities
was built three stories underground. Only one well concealed and
extremely well guarded portal allowed entrance and egress of both
pedestrian and vehicular traffic to the complex. Additionally, Adam
North alone knew of its precise location. Staff members as well as
Guests and the occasional visiting Client are ferried in by unmarked
shuttle vans. The van drivers are permitted to make one trip only for
which they are paid an enormous amount of money. Then they are given
a drug which in effect eradicates short term memory. The average duty
shift for Handlers and other Associates is six months. While in
residence, all of their needs are met and exceeded. The quality of
work life of its employees is extremely important to the Center, and
because of this, the system has worked flawlessly for over fourteen
years.
The soreness resulting from her unfamiliarity with her anal appliance
was becoming intolerable when at last Teresa was brought to a halt
before a recessed door marked "Fitting Room". Scott entered his pass
code on a keypad on the wall and the steel door hissed open.
Turning to Cliff he said, "Give me a hand getting her secured, and
then you may carry on." Cliff nodded his understanding, then placed a
hand on Teresa's back between her shoulder blades. With Scott leading
her by the hand and Cliff applying gentle but firm pressure from
behind, Teresa was ushered into the white tiled room. Momentarily
blinded by the bright lights glaring off the tile walls and floor,
Teresa hesitated in the entryway as the door hissed closed behind her.
"Come along now, Miss Davidson," Scott said as the two men pulled her
into the room.
As her eyes adjusted to the gleam of white tile and stainless steel,
Teresa was afforded a brief look around while she stumbled forward.
"The room looked a lot like an operating room in a hospital," she
thought as she eyed the grey surfaced lab benches and the many drawers
and cabinets that lined three of the room's four walls.
"Come now, Miss Davidson. Let's not dawdle," she heard the man named
Scott say. Looking at, then past the white coverall clad man, Teresa
saw what the two Handlers were guiding her toward.
At first glance, the apparatus looked like a form fitting fiberglass
chair with a high back and head rest. As she was pulled closer,
Teresa's anxiety level increased when she noticed the restraint bands
on the arms of the strange chair. What she really didn't like seeing
were the two gynecological style stainless steel stirrups, complete
with ankle restraints attached to the contrivance. What Teresa was
looking at, of course, is called "The Cooperation Seat".
The fiberglass, anatomically shaped seat standsd at approximately the
same height as a barber's chair and has controls that allow it to be
raised or lowered to any height. The entire chair can also be tilted,
allowing its occupant to be seated upright or leaned back into a
recumbent position. The real distinguishing feature of the apparatus
is the seat itself. The seat bottom is split into two sections such
that the occupant's thighs are cradled and supported while leaving her
buttocks free and accessible. Attached to the seat are two leg
extensions which end in stainless steel stirrups. The lower
extremity extensions are articulated such that they can be adjusted in
virtually any direction, side to side or up and down. On the sides of
the chair are arm rests which, like the leg extensions, are also
adjustable. Additionally, like the leg rests, they are equipped with
nylon restraint straps which fasten with velcro closures. Just above
the top of the seat back a padded restraint band is attached to a head
rest at neck level. Once seated in the "Cooperation Seat", and
restrained at the throat, arms and legs, a Guest is completely
immobilized.
Teresa wasn't given the opportunity to refuse or resist. Without a
word, the two Handlers each took an arm, and Teresa was lifted off her
feet and plopped summarily down into the specialty chair. With a
deftness and efficiency that only comes from practice, the dumbfounded
teenager was secured to the Cooperation Seat, and then, as promised,
Cliff was excused.
Scott stood gazing down at his young charge for several moments with
an approving look on his face. No one spoke. It wasn't until she was
securely strapped to the evil piece of furniture that Teresa got a
really good look at her tormentor. For the first time, Teresa
realized how young he was.
At last, breaking the uncomfortable silence, Scott said, "Well, if you
have no objections, Miss Davidson, we'll get started." Teresa opened
her mouth to say something, but Scott cut her off. "Silence, Miss
Davidson," he instructed. Then he quoted one of those damnable rules,
"A Guest shall only speak when told to do so." Gratifyingly, it
worked. The stubborn young woman shut her mouth and sat glaring at
him coldly.
Teresa was seated in a more or less upright position for the time
being. Her legs were bent at the knee and spread only slightly, her
ankles perhaps eighteen inches apart. She was somewhat reclined as
one might sit in a comfortable lounger. The ankle and wrist
restraints were fastened securely while the padded band about her neck
was left loose enough that she could turn her head freely. She looked
quite cozy, actually.
Picking up a metallic clipboard from a lab table beside her seat,
Scott said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, "We shall begin your
examination, Miss Davidson, with several questions. I expect for you
to answer them promptly and truthfully." Teresa refused to look at
him, and Scott allowed her transgression to slide for the moment in
favor of getting started. "According to our records, Miss Davidson,"
Scott began. "You are eighteen years of age. Your date of birth is
April 21, 1982." He paused and looked up at the young girl. No
response. Continuing, "You are five feet, six inches tall and weigh
one hundred eleven pounds. Brown hair, green eyes. Any other
distinguishing marks, Miss Davidson? Moles or birthmarks?" When
again she refused to answer, Scott muttered, "None noted." He
scribbled on his pad. "Your exterior dimension are currently Hips:
32", Waist: 20", Breasts: 35". Are we OK so far?" He waited. "At
some point, Miss Davidson, you will have to answer my questions. Your
repeated impertinence has been duly noted in your permanent records,
and I suggest that if you do not wish to suffer the consequences, you
should reconsider your position and cooperate." He glared at the
recalcitrant young woman. "Look at me when I address you, Miss
Davidson," Scott ordered. His patience was rapidly waning. Reaching
out, he took her chin in his hand and raised her face to his. Teresa
naturally tried to resist, but Scott, although young, was very strong
and easily overpowered her. "If you prefer, I can call in a volunteer
or two to assist you with the decision making process," he added
ominously. At last Teresa looked at him. Her emerald eyes were clear
and filled with defiance and willfulness. But as she stared into the
cold dark eyes of the young Handler, her confidence suddenly flagged,
and the obstinate young woman averted her gaze.
Having won the latest battle of wills, Scott released Teresa and
continued. His questions were innocuous and non-invasive. "Are you
experiencing any health problems, Miss Davidson, or are you under a
doctor's care at the present time?"
Glancing up, he was gratified to see Teresa shake her head, "No".
Scott paid very close attention to Teresa's body language during this
interview portion of the examination. The girl's shoulders had
drooped noticeably following his first question. "Are you currently
taking any prescribed medications?"
"No," Teresa replied softly.
With a nod in her direction Scott continued, "How about allergies,
Miss Davidson? Are you allergic to any prescription drugs like
penicillin, for example?"
Teresa lowered her gaze then shook her head.
"Thank you, Miss Davidson. Your cooperation is appreciated." He
smiled almost warmly. "Do you drink alcohol or smoke cigarettes?"
That question seemed to strike a cord with Teresa. Perhaps there was
some alcohol abuse in her past. "No way!" she responded adamantly.
"I'm not stupid, you know!"
"Very well, then," Scott continued calmly. He made a note in her
file. "Did father or estranged mother have a drinking problem?" He
would look into this possibility. It could be useful. "Have you used
any recreational drugs in the last six months, marijuana or cocaine,
perhaps?"
Teresa looked away sheepishly. She did not answer.
"Miss Davidson, answer the question, please," Scott prompted after a
suitable pause. "Do you use drugs other than prescription drugs?" He
waited. When no answer was forthcoming, Scott again took the young
woman by her chin and forced her to look at him. "You were doing so
well, Miss Davidson. Please don't disappoint me. We will find out,
you know, either through outside sources or drug testing, so you might
just as well cooperate." Staring into the troubled green eyes of his
young charge, Scott could see `the wheels turning' as Teresa
considered her options.
At last, in a tiny guilt ridden voice the teenager whispered, "I
smoked some pot with my brother this summer."
"I beg your pardon, Miss Davidson," Scott responded. He'd heard what
she said but wanted her to repeat her admission. He jotted another
note in her file. "Brother...Drugs?"
Teresa stared in disbelief into the young man's dark eyes. "Are you
deaf?" she asked incredulously. "I said that I smoked some pot with
my brother. What's it to you anyway?"
In a very stern tone of voice, Scott retorted, "It is not your place
to question our motives, Miss Davidson. Simply answer the questions.
Any other drug use?" he asked flatly. "Very well, I'll consider your
silence to mean "No"," Scott said after a moment. He released his
grip on her chin, and she looked away. "What about birth control
pills, Miss Davidson?" It was his first somewhat personal question.
Surprisingly, she answered rather promptly. "No," Teresa replied
flatly. Then she added under her breath, "Not that it's any of your
business."
Again Scott was forced to correct her. "To the contrary, Miss
Davidson. Everything about you is our business." He let his
statement sink in for a moment, then went on. "Let's discuss your
gynecological history."
Teresa gazed up at him in utter astonishment. "This is unbelievable!"
she thought.
"At what age did you begin menstruating and are your periods usually
light or heavy?" Scott asked the stupefied teenager.
Teresa was so astounded by the gall of the man that she caught herself
staring at him with her mouth hanging open, and several moments passed
before she found her voice. "Who do you think you are, asking me a
personal question like that! You're no doctor. You can go to hell,
if you think I'm going to answer you!" With that, Teresa shut her
mouth and sat in obstinate silence, glaring defiantly at Scott, daring
him with her eyes to test her determination.
Scott stood in thoughtful silence for a good long time while he
assessed the situation. Then like the professional he was, he made
his decision. Teresa tracked him warily with her eyes as he moved to
an intercom panel on the far wall. She could not hear what was said,
but she didn't have to wait long to find out the results of his
communication. It seemed like only a matter of seconds before the
door opened and a tall man dressed in the garb of a TYTC Handler
walked in. Teresa knew instantly that she was in trouble. Scott had
called her bluff.
"Hello, Scott. Long time no see," the tall Handler said as he walked
toward the Cooperation Seat and its stubborn occupant. "Got a
difficult one, I hear."
"Hi, Larry," Scott replied cordially. "It has been awhile. Haven't
seen you around much lately. How have you been?"
"Just great," the other man answered as he stepped up beside Teresa
and looked down at her appraisingly.
"Larry, this is Miss Teresa Davidson, and you're correct, she is
indeed proving to be troublesome."
"Hmmm," Larry said thoughtfully. "She's not bad looking. Nice
breasts. Perhaps a little on the old side," he chuckled good
naturedly. Then he added, "What's her story?" Without compunction,
the tall Handler placed a hand on Teresa's right breast and began to
manipulate its supple flesh.
"Fuck you!" Teresa screeched in response. "Get your hand off of me,
you filthy pervert!" she hissed while attempting to twist her torso
away from his invasive touch.
"Both mens' eyebrows went up in surprise. Then Larry chortled, "Oh, I
see." He continued to fondle Teresa despite her protests.
"Yeah," Scott sighed, unable to mask his growing frustration. "She
was sent over from The Facility. From what I understand, one of their
clients who's been spending some time with her wants to take her home,
but she's caused so much trouble during her stay that he wanted her
sent to us for some remedial training and preparation. Can't honestly
say that I blame the man. She's been nothing but trouble since she
arrived. I don't know what anyone would want with this one." Scott
shook his head in perplexity.
"Well," Larry offered after a brief pause. "Perhaps I can be of some
assistance here." He stared down at the recalcitrant young woman in
the Cooperation Seat. "You've got quite a reputation, young lady," he
said to Teresa, then pinched her nipple quite hard.
"Ow! You bastard!" Teresa yelped. She stared hotly up at the Handler
named Larry who was a good bit older than either she or her younger
tormentor. "Do you get your jollies by abusing helpless women like
the rest of your animal friends?" she hissed with a distinct air of
contempt. She was rewarded with another pinch.
Ignoring the disrespectful teenager, Larry said to his younger
coworker. "I've been away at school for the last month or so,
finishing up my degree. I learned some interesting new techniques
having to do with anal manipulation which might be pertinent here, and
it appears that Miss Davidson could use some encouragement." Both men
gazed down at Teresa for a minute, thinking. "So, what do you say?"
Larry asked, holding his hands out toward Scott plaintively.
"Sure, Larry," Scott replied gratefully. "If you have the time and
don't mind. I could certainly use some help."
"No problem at all, my friend," Larry said cheerfully. "Glad to help
out. So what're you using for Presence at the moment?"
"We put a size seven in her at her Double I," Scott informed the older
man. "She was such a challenge, the Headmaster insisted that Alex CAP
her early."
Teresa looked from one odious man to the other while they discussed
her like a side of beef. She couldn't believe this was happening.
"Have you the authority to remove it?" Larry asked, referring to
Teresa's anal appliance.
"Sure do," Scott said.
"OK, go ahead and clear her anal passage while I get set up," Larry
instructed, holding up a kit that looked like a canvass tool roll.
Then he turned and placed it on the small table nearby.
"Hey, what're you... huhhh!" Teresa's query was cut short when Scott
stooped and reached beneath the seat of the Cooperation Chair. By
design, the young lady's rear end was easily accessible, so with a
slow twisting motion, Scott withdrew the seven inch long CAP Device
that had been a part of Teresa for the passed several hours. In spite
of the distastefulness of the events leading up its placement inside
of her, the teenager experienced a distinct feeling of emptiness and
incompleteness following its removal, thanks in part to the wonder
drug, Thelazine. Scott took the torpedo shaped device to the lab sink
and cleaned it, then returned and placed it on the side table, ready
for re-insertion later.
Meanwhile, the older Handler, Larry, busied himself with his kit. He
unrolled the canvass pouch revealing several smaller compartments.
Each contained a tool or device of uncertain purpose. Scott looked on
with great interest while his Associate prepared his instruments.
"New stuff," Scott commented astutely.
"You bet," Larry replied. Then he removed from the kit a stainless
steel cylinder about ten inches in length and approximately the
diameter of a "C" cell flashlight.
When his partner held the device up for his inspection, Scott noted
that its surface was knurled to afford the operator a better grip.
Scott also noticed six small metal buttons near one end of the
cylinder. "Here, feel the weight," Larry said, offering the
instrument to his fellow Handler. We call it the Inter-Colonic
Exciter; ICE for short.
The device proved to be a bit heavier than Scott would have guessed as
he studied the instrument more closely. One end of the cylinder was
blunt and appeared to have a removable end cap, while the other
tapered to a diameter of approximately one quarter inch. At the end
of the taper was a shining steel sphere of perhaps twice that
diameter. Scott turned the instrument over in his hand slowly, then
he looked up at Larry. "What do the controls do?" he asked.
"Press the top center button," Larry said.
"Wow!" Scott commented appreciatively when the narrow end of the
device began to silently elongate. Looking closer, Scott couldn't see
any sign of a joint or seam where the quarter inch shaft slowly
telescoped outward from within the larger diameter handle. "How long
will it get?" he asked, releasing the button. In his hand he held the
knurled handle of the device which before his eyes had sprouted an
extrusion practically eighteen inches in length and a quarter of an
inch in diameter. At its end was the shining sphere.
"Pretty remarkable, huh?" Larry commented proudly. He had been
selected out of a group of ten candidates in his class to test the new
device in the field. "It's totally new technology. I see you noticed
there's no visible junction between the handle and the wand."
Scott nodded, looking closely at the device again.
"Would you believe the wand will extend to almost three feet!"
"Wow!" Scott responded in amazement.
Meanwhile, Teresa sat staring at the ominous looking device with a
rising sense of dread.
"So what's it do?" Scott asked of his partner.
"You're familiar with our Vaginal Micrometer, no doubt."
Scott nodded to the affirmative.
"This proto-type basically has similar stimulative functions to the
VM, although the R&D boys haven't built in the measuring capabilities
yet. They say they'll have that ready in the next model release. But
for now, this little jewel will deliver a variety of interesting and
useful sensations to areas of the female anatomy that were previously
unreachable without surgery," Larry explained. The two men were
silent for a moment as they gazed at the extraordinary instrument
which Scott held. "One remarkable feature is that although the wand
appears to be metallic, it is actually made of a highly advanced
polymer compound. Here let me show you something." Larry took the
unit from Scott, then holding it almost reverently, he pressed and
held the top, left button.
"Holy shit!" Scott exclaimed in a somewhat unprofessional manner.
Before his eyes the eighteen inch wand started to bow in an almost
lifelike fashion. Larry let the bending continue until the wand had
achieved practically a ninety degree angle to the handle. Then upon
releasing the control, the two men watched the wand return to its
original linear configuration.
"Another interesting thing about this polymer is that it's completely
non-conductive," Larry said. When Scott gave him a curious look, he
explained further. "All stimulative issuances are confined to the
half inch sphere at the end of the wand. Nothing is transmitted down
the surface of the shaft."
"Ahh," Scott responded, immediately grasping the significance of what
Larry described.
"Rightttt," Larry said with a grin. "Because of this we are afforded
enormous control over what part or parts of her we tingle." He
grinned again. "And tingle it does. It'll do burst pulses of up to
four hundred watt seconds, and it's harmonic resonance capabilities
are greatly improved over those of the Vaginal Micrometer," Larry went
on to explain. "It can do some really neat stuff," the older Handler
said proudly. He pushed another button and retracted the wand into
its handle then he said to Scott, "So let's see how your troublesome
Miss Davidson responds to our new toy, shall we?"
"You bet," Scott agreed enthusiastically. "There's a low stool over
there, if you need it," the younger Handler said, pointing.
Teresa had remained uncharacteristically silent all the while that
Larry was describing his hideous new plaything, but when the man drew
a small, padded stool up next to the Cooperation Seat and sat down
with the ICE in hand, she could contain herself no longer. "You just
wait a damn minute, you monster!" she threatened idly. Turning her
head, Teresa glared at the older man. Quickly, though, she felt
Scott's fingers on her chin.
"Look at me, Miss Davidson and be silent," her Handler ordered.
"We're going to continue with our little question and answer session
now, and I expect for you to pay close attention to me."
Unable to look away from Scott, Teresa didn't see the other Handler
move his shining instrument beneath her. She suddenly parted her lips
with a slight gasp, and her eyes became wide with concern when
initially Teresa felt a cool pressure against her nether entrance.
Scott watched her face closely, holding her by the chin and preventing
her from looking away. When he saw her make one prolonged blink of
her emerald green eyes, the young Handler knew that his fellow
Associate was in.
All that Teresa felt at first was a mildly increased sense of pressure
followed by a tiny bit of stretching, then abruptly her anal sphincter
dilated and admitted the small spherical end of the Inter-Colonic
Exciter. That sense of conspicuous presence that accompanies the
insertion of a CAP Device was not a factor when Larry extended his
magic wand. In fact, Teresa would have been shocked to learn just how
deeply she'd been penetrated by the time Scott asked his first
question.
"Getting back to your menstrual information, Miss Davidson," Scott
said after clearing his throat to gain Teresa's attention. "Would you
say that your customary flow is heavy or light?" He stared brazenly
at the young woman.
Teresa was quite confused and flustered by the recent goings on, and
consequently answered haltingly before thinking. "I...I guess
l...light," she replied. "Well... Medium, maybe." She felt herself
flex around the thin shaft in her rear end. Due to its extraordinary
design, it was impossible for Teresa to discern the actual depth to
which the shining sphere had traveled under the expert guidance of the
second Handler who sat silently beside her.
"Good," Scott said. "Thank you, Miss Davidson. And at what age did
you begin to menstruate?"
Teresa was having a difficult time concentrating on her Handler's
questions even though Larry held the ICE absolutely still. "I.. I.."
she stammered. "I.. Twelve, I guess. No, eleven." she answered.
"And do you normally use pads, tampons or both?"
The questions came faster now. Teresa was somewhat dazed, but she
replied none the less, "B..both, sometimes."
Unwittingly, Teresa started to respond to the rather probing and
personal questions almost reflexively.
"Do you suffer from PMS?" When after a half a minute, the distracted
teenager didn't answer, Scott asked again. "Miss Davidson, do you
develop PMS symptoms or not?" He was most insistent. Knowing the
girl was bewildered, Scott wanted to get as many answers out of her as
possible before she regained her composure.
Teresa shook her head as if to clear the cobwebs. "No," she answered
a bit more directly. The initial shock and apprehension of being
subjected to insertion of the ICE was starting to wear off.
"Do you ever experience vaginal discharge other than lubricating
fluids resulting from arousal?" This question garnered a look of
confused exasperation.
"N..no, but..."
"Very well. Are you receiving regular GYN checkups, Miss Davidson?"
"I... yes... I... but why do you want..?"
"Yes or no will do, Miss Davidson," Scott said interrupting her. She
was coming around.
"At what age did you lose your virginity, Miss Davidson, and to whom?"
Scott watched the confusion on Teresa's face gradually turn to
outrage, then to outright rage.
The teenager sat for several moments, her mouth opening and closing in
silence. Then at last she found her voice. In a low growl, she said,
"That is none of your damn business!" On her face she wore an
expression of unmitigated hostility.
The first thing Teresa felt was an almost imperceptible motion deep
inside of her. She remembered thinking that the supposedly wonderful
new toy that these horrible men possessed wasn't going to do a damn
thing to her. That was just before the pulse hit. The sensation was
not unlike being kicked in the rib cage, at once knocking the wind out
of her and filling her entire body with a thudding agony. Teresa
thought she was going to black out. Then gradually, as the fog of
pain that enshrouded her lifted, Teresa recognized a familiar voice
asking, "At what age did you lose your virginity, Miss Davidson and to
whom?"
Unable to form coherent thoughts, Teresa sat stunned and shaking for
several seconds before the question was put to her again.
"Pay attention, Miss Davidson. Look at me and answer the question,
please. Who did you lose your virginity to, and how old were you at
the time?"
All of Scott's questions were, of course, premeditated and designed
expressly to erode the subject's sense of personal space and privacy.
The shock value alone derived from the invasive interrogation was
enough to keep the otherwise rather well composed young woman off
balance and befuddled.
At a nod from the young Handler, Larry obligingly thumbed the controls
of the ICE. Inside the dark, moist reaches of Teresa's excretory
system, the highly advanced polymer wand flexed. Bowing forward, the
shrining exciter sphere pressed downward against the top of the
teenager's uterus which is located directly above her urinary bladder.
Taking Teresa by her chin, Scott forced her to gaze directly into his
eyes. He intentionally treated her like an errant child as he
repeated his question in a most patronizing tone of voice. "How old
were you when you first had intercourse, Miss Davidson? It's a simple
question, really."
Teresa was gradually recovering from the deep routed blow to her
person. The resulting waves of nausea slowly subsided, and she
regained a small degree of composure. With that composure came a
greater comprehension of her situation. With that comprehension,
Teresa's inherent self-righteous indignation returned in spades.
"How dare he ask such a question!" her irate thoughts screamed. "Why
he's nothing more than a demented child! These filthy, cretinous
thugs won't get anything more out of me!" she vowed silently.
Teresa couldn't have been more wrong. Scott, having seen these exact
same signs of wilfulness in other Guests Teresa's age, or perhaps
slightly younger, was well prepared for such an eventuality. Nodding
again to his assistant, Scott watched the pretty girl's facial
expressions begin to change. First came the raised eyebrows and the
look of surprise. Then as the harmonic resonance emitted by the
shining exciter sphere gradually increased, and the muscles
responsible for bladder control began to fibrillate, Teresa's face
reflected growing concern. It was when the warm urine began to
trickle between her buttocks, that the stubborn teenager really began
to exhibit those unmistakable signs of alarm.
"Wait... Nnnno...," she whined, seeing Scott's knowing smirk, but try
as she might, she could do nothing to stem the rapidly increasing
flow.
Reaching between Teresa's legs, her Handler casually cupped her full
vulva in his hand. "This would go much quicker and easier if you
would cooperate, Miss Davidson," Scott explained patiently as he
allowed his hand to fill with the warm and pungent liquid. "I ask
only that you answer my questions," the young Handler continued. Then
to Teresa's utter disgust and dismay, he raised his cupped hand from
between her thighs and poured its brimming warm contents onto her
belly. Teresa shuddered as the cooling urine flowed across her tummy,
filling her navel, then trickling downward on either side of her slim
waist. It had been several hours since Teresa'd last visited the
bathroom, so her urine continued to flow, making a spattering sound on
the tile floor.
"We can make this examination very unpleasant for you, little lady,"
Larry said from his seat beside Teresa's right shoulder. To drive
home his point, the older man twisted the handle of the ICE device,
causing Teresa to groan in response when the elongated probe shifted
position deep in her bowel. It felt like the thing was pushing
against the back side of her belly button. It was a most invasive and
uncomfortable sensation indeed.
"How old were you, Miss Davidson, when you took your first lover?"
Scott asked calmly. After returning his hand to Teresa's most private
flesh, he slowly rubbed her, spreading her urine over her soft skin
until she was through.
Teresa was mortified. This was by far the most degrading thing these
monstrous men had done to her thus far, and as a result, she began to
re-think her strategy of outright defiance.
A moment of silence...
"I was fourteen and a half," the headstrong teenager murmured almost
inaudibly.
"I beg your pardon," Scott responded instantly. He wanted his willful
charge to repeat her confession.
"I said, I was almost fifteen," Teresa replied in a miffed tone of
voice.
"That's a bit early, isn't it, young lady?" Larry chimed in.
Teresa reddened noticeably but said nothing.
"And with whom did you have intercourse your first time, Miss
Davidson?" Scott immediately inquired, wishing to capitalize on
Teresa's momentary affability.
"Oh, God!" she thought miserably. Teresa had sincerely hoped that
this one particular secret would go with her to her grave, but this
was not to be.
"I... It... It was," Teresa began. Her expression of nervous
embarrassment was unmistakable.
"Go on, young lady," Larry prompted. He moved the ICE ever so
slightly in Teresa's rear end as encouragement. Scott immediately
shot the older man a glance that, in no uncertain terms said, "I'll
thank you not to intervene unless asked." Larry nodded his
understanding with a sheepish grin.
"Answer the question, Miss Davidson," Scott ordered.
With a pained and crushed look upon her pretty face, Teresa replied at
last. "It was my boyfriend's dad."
"That explains her predilection for older men," Scott surmised. "And
what led up to this relationship, Miss Davidson?" the young Handler
asked, knowing full well this was a topic that the girl would prefer
not to discuss. After a prolonged period of strained silence, Teresa
began to tell her tale. What she would divulge to the two complete
strangers was the truth about a part of her life of which she was the
least proud. It was, until this moment, Teresa Davidson's darkest and
most carefully guarded secret.
Continued...
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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